Coming back home has always been a pleasant experience. And when its your alma mater, nothing comes closer. Visiting the college once you have passed out is like travelling back to one of your most memorable times. Immaterial of whether you were ragged, or your proposal was turned down or you topped a course, you always come back smiling. Well at least all MICAns do it.
MICAns as we know of, will match a group of at least 10 when it comes to expressing. So, when the dates were the DATES of the year, MICA could look only more beautiful. And it did look. Clad with light bulbs in the beautiful February night, leaves accompanying feet on ground and spirit giving company to head at high places. The food was good, no wonder I heard someone whispering into ears of another “OH MY!!DID I MESS YOU?” The giggling followed. But these weren’t the only two laughing. The whole college was. Whether it was the people sitting at the registration desk or the accommodation desk or the store, people were having fun everywhere.
Some old acquaintances, some fights, some old smiles, high fives, winks, mas and behans. Nothing had changed but then nothing had remained the same. People have new friends now, new priorities, new tensions. But these people had not come to MICA, they had stayed back at their places and those who came to MICA were the people who had left mica. How else do you explain 4 generations of MICAns sitting in one room, every one having his own roll to play. Sankalp you listening? The best internship one could have asked for. These sessions taught us that there is much more to them than just getting high.
Be it bapu’s antics at the gates. (yeah he made four people walk from palash till gate to get this bugger a pack of nothing less than parle-g). Or nanda’s charm at the registration desk ( don’t know why but people just wanted to be done away with registration asap), everything was adding to the fun. All roads then lead to the accommodation desk. The accommodation desk was a place to be because it had most accommodating people. Four generations of MICA gelled into a joint family around that desk and stories started flowing. Secrets of seniors to some more secrets of some more seniors. Gbs of info flowed in and it was like seeing at facets of MICA we dint even know existed.
Shivratri only added to the flavour. People started with “ Hamari Bhangein puri karo” and after 3-4 glasses same people were sloshed. Getting kicks even after sleeping. “Khoon bhari Bhang” I guess. We had a typical MICA party, the only thing different was the amount of MICA which was mixed with this party. But then an extra bit of MICA never killed anyone so no one had any complaints. Complaints? There were fewer wishes I guess. Anything you could ask for was there. Everything would be the last if it were more. Ask Sachin S or Neeraj N. I could provide a few insights too .
Excited to see the chequered gates again
Wonder what all would have changed
Ready to tread the college roads one more time
Want to be there leaving everything behind
One more knock on my room’s door
Wondering who has entered before
One more look out of my room
One last smell of the familiar fumes
Find myself drawn hypnotised
Ah that looks like a chapter revised
One more match in the cricket field
One more opponent to be left kneeled
See her once more one last time
One more poem one last rhyme
One more chat one last fight
Once more feel everything is alright
One more song one last clap
One more night out one last nap
One more tune one last dance
One more meeting one last chance.
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