The Good Old Days

I remember the days when I was in college and I understand now why they were “The Good Old days”. It was freedom like birds, no boundaries .Foodie like monkey with no worries of obesity; flexible like rubber, adjustable anywhere; carefree like a hippie wandering in the world full of hippies.

All running blindly towards something that people called success, to achieve something tangible in an environment so intangible; like clay ready to be moulded and surprisingly more like mud which spread itself. Careless but with a little care that bounded our carelessness. Brain full of mischiefs but still so sober at interviews. We searched for decent soft spoken girl friends with slangs on our tongue, pretending we don’t care about them, but somewhere deep in our heart we needed someone to love and yearned to be loved and some other needs that do not need any explanation. So hazy yet so clear.

Never thought twice while spending money on phone but worried why that glass of juice cost bees rupya. Mocked friends in front of their girlfriends but silently talked to mine. Fighting over games which were never less than battles. Politics made the politician mature in us. Planning like corporates and failing to execute was a daily business, still we laughed on it shamelessly. Some enemies some friends some crushes and some I didn’t even knew existed. Some existed but I didn’t exist for them. Some dogs some bitches some angeles some witches and some bitches again. Not to mention some smart some studs some dumb some nerds but still my friends. Some fattu some pseudo fattu but fat ti sabki thi.

Who cared if class was at 8 when the girl was on phone at 3, who cared loans were mounting when her birthday was near, who cared about the class notes when mobile had her sweet messages. Who cared about exams when beer was free, who cared it was Charms or Marlboro, who damn cared about a bath!!

One was always concerned what if his phone balance would dry up amidst their talk, one cared to receive all her SMSs, One cared to make her feel special on her birthday, one cared about the last bottle of beer, one cared about the last puff of the last cigarette left, one cared just to look fresh and no one needed a bucket full of water for that!

So fake still so true.

The Days are over. Surrounded by some tangible happiness but I miss the intangibles. Now I care about things but my soul urges carelessness. Want to pamper and get pampered but that’s impossible alone. I miss those sleepy classes and miss those sleepless nights. I miss those talks I miss those fights. I hate this sober man inside, miss those stupids beside. I miss my college, I miss my life.

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Is bechaini ka alam tumhe kya bataye Ghalib….

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