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Go, for they call you, the shepherd or to that joker, from the hill top;
Go shepherd go, and untie the wattled cotes left far behind!
No longer leave thy wistful flock unfed,
Never have regrets or a simple repentance,
But learn by having let go, the reminisces, left far behind.
And the tired jokers and the dogs unfed,
And did they all go to rest for a while?
Only the rising sheeps were sometimes seen,
Those that cross and recross the same old path,
And the strips of the same green pastures.
Here will I sit and wait,
While to my ear from uplands far away,
With distant cries of reapers in the olive corn,
All the live murmur gone back to an instance past gone.
But once and months later, in the same country-lanes,
And in the same old porches,
Two, three, a dozen and a community,
Whom at college erst they knew,
Why they were back to have their meet,
of a long forgotten distant heat.
And the lost scholar was seen to stray,
Seen by rare glimpses, pensive and tongue-tied,
And in shape as what the jokers wore.
‘Cas that’s what they did to make him a gem,
A star was born year and ever after.

Though I must be explicit about it, wanted to ask a few about a LML scooter (PB-03) that used to stand sandwiched between the Hard Rock and the Garage, has anyone seen it lately. Heard about its dismantled parts here there and everywhere. Seems to be quite an old disaster issue altogether. But that puts you in doubt of NIMC perimeters getting infiltrators. I also noticed the abbreviation ‘AIM’ as graffiti on one of the walls as you pass by from P to S or vice versa.

And sure if you’ve got jokers stuck up in mud and getting dozes of the famous Amoxicillin + Vit C package in the nearby Command, lovely hearts will pump on to meet you and drop by soon. For years have past by but never could a solution come up for the patent ’Conjunctivitis’ that gave way to more men in black, that sickening ‘Jaundice’ courtesy water coolers and the frightening ‘chicken pox’ that devoid even your roommate to attend any classes!!

And when outsiders and kids from next door landed on to the NIMC Zoo, happenings took place. Never forget the way Bhatta Sir used to tick them off with his warmth of genuine humanity.

But don’t you stray away from the esteemed tradition of having a word with your senior. All you’ve got to do is give a missed call.

And when lady jokers reciprocated to the whistles from the jail, times seemed to favour the better half. And when jokers tried to hide or even ride that cute little Bajaj auto that belonged to the mess, but the charm of it all was in putting an ear to the late night Cellular discussions from above the faculty block. What a turn-on. Wasn’t it?

Not to mention the last few days of yet another closing chapter, when all got engrossed in one or the others scrap, penning their books to keep an acquaintance. And when your batchies packed and left for good, could you be in a place to bid, and send them a flashing hand. All it could pour on the BBC more for jokers to have gala of a time swaying in puddles and in lush green nostalgic reminisces, flashing down the moments, graffiti on walls, paying tokens to one and hugging them rest, GP hunger that’ll one day starve them for its richness. That’s how it ended for a few.

Moments when everything comes to a halt and when you make the best of everything, when those past years flashed down like murmuring meadows thirsting for more. And how times winded us back to have grudges and resents and have them repeat for good, something’s that always reverts you to get to the crux for one last time and be apologetically stronger or be happy about it.

[Any doubts may not be entertained]

In the times of yore, here’s a final adieu, a final goodbye….
“We’ll drink a cup of kindness yet to the times gone by”
God Bless NIMC

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And apart from rumors and having your share over the blog sphere, jokers landed up in the mess just to stand in queues throbbing with more jokers that sometimes got extended taking U turns on special occasions. But then it was management all way, Shushanto’s never cribbing attitude, his supervision over your meal and on that second helping. And being noble the way Hemant Da quenched our thirst. And all this filled up with Manoj’s cheerful gaits.

The skeptical and the controversial pranks, nerve biting if you could answer these, the blowout of eggs inside Registrar’s office and who scaled the Cellular Jail? History repeats these legendary moments that had controversial elements thriving in it. Be a star and plan more on such legends.

Let’s reincarnate the night safaris when jokers leaped on for the search of the reverberating stillness or the adventurous beams of the joyful city that gave them sovereignty of Indian freedom to their heart’s content. And what more do you want than those paranthee with that onion sprinkled with the patent red salt without which the meal was of no spice. But always there were a few who would check you in this puzzle of the GP hunger for which they’ll make their way through and knock with their filling to one’s content. And the joker’s loving devotion and his daily crave for his stomach for which he made with his clan backed by the loving comradeship of our own domestic dogs. And to continue with the safari, following tram lines that guided us the routes of the well known Kothari and of the GOC. Well past by pavements and advertisement stills that got better of us and got deserted as we passed by to nowhere. And as we marched on by our aegis and saw Victoria’s night

secrets in the limelight, you well got ready to play the mischief of outmost wit and excitement. From flashing in your high zooms to enjoying the packed food in the open Maidan, and why not flash down the road reflecting flickers that were solar charged. But trying to get on to trailers was an evergreen achievement for jokers, not to mention the upsetting up of the road dividing barricades with PC vans just yards away, and then doing the high jumps over pedestrian grills opposite GOC’s residence. All ends for a total aatank that has in it gratifying pleasure and a good night sleep.

Your control over anger and your fist over the rest, something that makes you wise in nature and fiction. And what a loving college it is, where tranquility has its own stake, assurance given of no brawls or the wrestles in rooms, well you name it and they could start of on the way to GP, on the edges of BBC, outside the TV room, under the Hard Rock hut and why not inside and outside the placement cell that involved the skeptic murmur blistering with one sided agony. Not to mention when jokers planned out hacking the node through which DRC sent so many greeting cards!

And lately as the spring gave way to time and relativity, jokers had time disposals for the Orkut virus. A fever that’ll bring us all close scraping, u bet!

Though I’m bailing out of the heavenly NIMC zoo, I give your word that I’ll shall drop by now and then and be inquisitive about my alma mater that shall reiterate me to catch up with the mist of the times gone by.

Auld Lang Syne; to the times gone by!

Adios Amigo!