Now just as a youngster with a lot of innovative ideas and revolutionary blood, me with a few close friends of mine planned to do a drama day. And although the drama day never happened it has some very pleasant memories with me and Kavita. (Who is Kavita? ' In two words she is my love and life.) Well it happened so that with the help of the drama day I auditioned her in one of my play's and from thereon I took a fourth gear.

At the beginning of the year all of us were a serious lot with some regular class attendance and a good rapo with the teachers, many of us were inspired to hit back at our academics which had let us down in the twelth grade. So you must be eager to know, what else we did other than attending classes. Now usually since we didn't have large sums of money to throw up with, we sat in the parking lane of the English Department soaking up the sun and occasionally finding some place to hide just in case the professor is on the prowl. One such gentleman was 'manu' that ofcourse wasn't his real name, but something that he should thank us on account of his additional English classes. Lost, confused and Darna Mana Hai were something's that I felt were always connected to his personality.

Other than the ups and downs that keep rocking your college life, there are those moments that whenever you remember it you feel like jumping from the roof. One such personality was Shyamu or our so called Chacha or the tragedy guy. What was the problem with this guy, was something that no one could actually get hold of. I mean at first he wanted a bike, when the bike was there he wanted a cellphone and when that arrived he drowned it in the rain of his life. And even after all this he finally did get some girlfriends too, but sad part was the tragedy was his better half. So his first girlfriend ditched him and started to date his best friend, and the other one ditched him too. Now I understand why he sand ghazals, even when he was in love.

Everytime I remember about college, I remember some very hot people. So hot were they that they never had 'Chutas' (Change in currency) with them and every time they did that you realized how hot they could get you going. The second problem was one had to stand in long ques and then when you were finally there you had to feel the heat of the clerks who always complained of incomplete information on the form. Trust me getting your ID-card made or submitting the examination from was probably tougher than running a Mumbai- Marathon.

Among all this and that, that I have mentioned you must be wondering that why haven't I discussed about my canteen. Well to be frank, canteen in my college was a place where the 'gundas' resided. And trust me neither me nor my dear foe Chachaji wanted to do a Bollywood repeat, fighting the gundas and thrashing the canteen furniture.

Going back in time and remembering all those moments surely makes one nostalgic. Although my relations with my professors was something that I hardly want to quote, but then there were some of those like Ansari Sir, Dr. Rajaram and ofcourse the sweethearts of our college, myself and my pals Utpala Madam and Ashir Sir. The icing on the cake was that they were husband and wife. If one had that softness by which everyone wanted to be taught by her, the other one so good looking that his style couldn't resist you missing his lectures. And mind you, am not talking gay here, but its pure admiration.

Talking of college days, friends are a vital part of this journey. And so has been my journey too, accompanied by Parth and Prathit. Now parth is one guy who flirts, dresses thinking he is very cool and changes girlfriends or rather juggles them all the time. I mean agreed that the guy has done a lot of nuisance to his life, but the thing is as a friend he is among the best. With prathit I have always felt the level of common sense understanding higher than parth, but then his distance of being parth's brother has always made me feel that as person prathit may be a better individual but as a friend Sparshji (Parth) that's his other name, (God knows where did it come from?) is surely the more understanding one.
Well the story of my college days doesn't end here. But it's the words that have to stop somewhere. And so I will take your leave, thanking you for spending some precious moments in my paathshala days.

Take care and keep reading.