Confessions of a Bibliophile..

"A good book should leave you...slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading it." -William Stryon

Have you ever smelled a book? A well aged one. Just like fine wine, the aroma gets better with time. Though the smell is just an extra perk, its not the reason you opened the book for. When you start reading a book you are transformed, you are in a new world. Every book takes you to a new horizon. You begin to see things differently. You see the sunrise and the sunset as never seen before. Sometimes you get wrapped in a blanket of love while sometimes you are scared to death for the protagonist.

You have the same feelings as Alice when she went down the rabbit hole. A world full of wonders. A dreamland! A place where you are small and can fly or a place where you are the giant. It may be a conference between world leaders, or it may be an adventurous quest for the Holy Grail. You feel the desperation, the pain, sorrow of the protagonist. You fall in love with the princess with the glass slipper. Or was it the lady in the green scarf. No matter who it was or what it was every time

you sit back in your chair and open another book you simply become addicted. You are oblivious to everything else going around you.

Words become the air you breathe, consuming, holding you tight in your thoughts.

Welcome to the world of Bibliophiles. Bibliophilia is the love of books and a bibliophile is an individual who loves books. The trouble with being a bibliophile is that once you come out of the world of books even real life seems dull at times. And you feel and urge to get back to your own world. Sometimes you feel there is a dearth of books. That is when the classic "Bibliophile Threat" is really carried out.

"If some one does not speedily indite

A volume that is worthy of my shelf,

I'll have to buy materials and write

A novel and some poetry myself. "

John Kendrick Bangs

Whatever one says or thinks about it once you have entered the world of books you are bound to be mesmerized by it, consumed in it, intoxicated by it to an extent that you are ready to ignore your "real life".

Waiting for my angel...

Why do I read the same book again and again, listen to the same song again and again and watch the same movie number of times? There must be some reason behind this "apparent" monotonic monotonicity. The reason is that we can relate to it, connect to it in ways that only our subconscious mind is aware of.I realized this just now when I was again reading an extract from "DOCTORS" by Erich Segal. Many incoherent thoughts occupy my mind. There are so many things I want to do, so many things I want to read but why am I still stuck with this book that I've already read 5 times? Its confusing, at the same time its frustrating. I’m frustrated about being frustrated. I’m angry about being angry.I’m mad about being mad.I’m tired of being tired. I need somebody to accompany me..to break my silence..to invade my solitude..to share my thoughts.. to listen to me..to speak to me..to guide me..to corroborate me..and to be there for me.Sometimes I think I am asking too much. Sometimes in life, its easier talking to a stranger.Maybe its just human nature to socialize..to be loved and to love? But still everyone asks us to be wary of strangers. why are we estranged from strangers? Why do we search for known faces every place we go. Why do we want to live in the shadow of the past. I know there are few friends I would love to be with most of the time, but I need some time to be myself. I need someone apart from my friends. Someone who completes me. Someone gets the best out of me. I am no stranger to love, but I am still waiting for my angel. The angel who would drive the devil out of my mind.

The Change..

He didn't know what he was doing there. He didn't remember how he had got there.He wanted to get out of here but couldn't find an exit. He was angry but there was no one he could take out his anger on. He was screaming but no one could hear him. He was trapped in that oddly shaped close room. When he no longer had the strength to continue shouting and screaming he got down on his knees. Slowly the anger subsided, and he started to look around and think. The room was filled with a lot of sheets of paper. He picked up one of them and started reading. The surprise was plainly visible on his face. He started picking up sheets after sheets and reading them frantically. There was a restlessness and urgency in his movements. And then he started cursing and swearing.

     The ringing of the alarm clock sounded like a knell. He woke up with a start. He realized that it was just a nightmare and was relieved. He clearly remembered what was written on those sheets. Each and every dream he had ever had, all his unfulfilled desires, all his failures were written on the sheets. He was feeling depressed. Why should he have such a dream? Why couldn't he have happy dreams instead of these nightmares. Then he remembered it hadn't always been the same. As a little boy he had happy dreams, dreams about a future where he'd be a successful person. Hadn't he always been excited to tell everyone about his dreams. Why had it all changed?

He thought about it for a while and then he concluded that it was because of his own mistakes. This ill temper he had,the way he couldn't handle his anger, the outlook he had on life had messed up his life. It had destroyed who he was inside and out.It had made him a wrong person and had caused only grief and sorrow to him and those around him. He remembered how often he had opportunities to make it count and how easily he had blown them all. How many times he had chances to redeem himself and every time he had messed it up. He felt a tinge of remorse but he couldn't change the past. He now understood the meaning of his dream. That oddly shaped room full of sheets was his personal hell, of his own making. He was trapped in his own mind. He knew there was only one way he could avoid it; by setting things right and getting rid of this anger. He made a promise to himself that he would change from hereafter. Change for the good...

My Best Friend..

I knew her only by school,
Not really like friends,
But when we came to college,
She started to be my friend.

She would be there for me,
If i had a tear in my eye;
And always had a joke,
To make me laugh and cry.

My best friend comforts me
And listens to what I say.
She is always there for me,
Anytime, any day.

I know she cares for me.
I too care for her.
She's my best friend
And I hope to be hers...

A-Z of life at SIT.....

A

ANU....

AUDI

***HOLE

"ARE YOU ABLE TO VISIBLE"

ABCL

AUTONOMOUS

B

BENGA

BBC

BACKGATE

BLUE MOON

BACHA

BHAKKU

BORA

BALTI

BAURAI KE

BABA

BABA BHOMBA

C

COFFEE

CHILTU

CHUHA

CANTEEN

CHAI WALA

CGPA

CHAPPAL

CECELIA

CD

"CHALO VIRENDER"

CONTRA BABA

D

DATUGA

DAILY BREAD

DHOLAKIA

DARU PRASAD

DHOBI

DEBSOC

DEALING

E

EC CHOWK

F

FONU

F**THOLE

F(UCK)RU

FUNSIWALA

G

GOLU

GOOGLE

GOGO NOGO POGO

GAS

H

H****I PANDA

HOLA BHAIYA

HORNY

I

"IDIOT FELLOW"

J

JHOLA

JULIE

JACKIE

JB

JHO JHO

K

K***I

KUTTA

KOOKABURRA

KP

L

LUI

L****A BOILER

LESHUN

M

MANHOLE

MERIDIEN

MIDSEM

MADU BEHENIYA

MOGLI

"MY PROCTOR STUDENTS"

MISHRA JI

N

N**U

NATRU

NARAYANA

NADI KE G**D ME GADDI

NIMMU

NANGU

O

O****A

P

P****I

PILU

PU2

PMC

PAGLU PIGGY

PROXY

PRESIDENT

Q

QUEST??

QUIZ

R

RABBIT

RMC

RIKSHAW WALI

S

SWEETSANKU :)

SPL

SGPA

SUTTA POINT

SKANDA

SINHA JI

SPICY

SIMRAN

SANDWICH

SPRING MADHU

SCOOTER

T

TOMMY

TERRACE

TUFFRY

TULSIRAM

TIKAI JHA

"TOMMY KA MAALIK"

U

"UMMI DE DE CHUMMI"

V

VELLAPANTI

VAISHALI

VISHAL XEROX

VENUS XEROX

VIGNESHWARA

W

WATER(RECYCLED)

X

XEROX CENTRE

Y

YUMMY MESS FOOD

Z

ZERO IN QUIZ

The Search...

"A heart, ever searching, reaching, but never finding....

 A soul,  ever seeking, yearning, but never resting....

 A thought, ever striving, wanting, but never fulfilling...

 A life, ever planning, hopeful, but never complete........."

That heart, that soul, that thought and that life was mine before I met you. A hope to find you, an idea to fulfill my dream was what started the "Search". The search for someone who I could share my thoughts with, someone who could understand me even when I didn't express myself, someone with whom I could be myself. And then I found you, with wings sent from above, an angelic face among all mayhem. You taught me life's greatest lesson that true love is when two hearts merge and not just one heart giving away its love.

You changed my world with a blink of an eye,

That is something that I can not deny.

You just don't know what you have done for me,

You even pushed me to the best that I can be.

I know you don't feel the same way as I do, but I know my "Search" is over. I took me a long time to find you and I'm ready to wait if it takes a long time to be with you. I'll put my feelings for you in a rhyme.

My love is not written on sand,

for the waters to wash away.

It is written in my heart to stand,

all the difficulty that comes its way.

Rumblings of a Typhoid Patient :(

Thanks to the shithead college administration and their neglect of the fact that the water purifier wasn't purifying water anymore almost half my college is down with typhoid. SITians are so regularly ill that the local Manipal hospital offers 15% discount to anyone from SIT. But I'm deviating from the topic. I have got loads of negative points to write about my college but for now I'll concentrate on Typhoid. 

I certainly don't remember contracting any of of these long term sickness before. This was my first experience. Being a Typhoid patient earned me a new title "TYPHI", although I cannot lay complete claim to it as many others share it with me. This stupid typhoid has sucked all the strength out of me just as a leech sucks blood. For anyone who has read Harry Potter I'd liken Typhoid to a dementor. Once it has made contact you feel you'll never be strong again.

To regain my strength my friends force me to eat apples. I have hated apples since I was a kid. Any ailment that makes me have apples everyday certainly can't be in my good books. Add to that the fact that it has got me bedridden in my last few days at college. And worst of all it prevents me from having chicken. For all the above reasons I hate Typhoid.