That Bugger Barrie

The title that you're seeing up there won by a very short head.
The original billboard had "Rastogi strikes again".
Readers who've stuck with me through thick and thin might remember a post about Chaman, king of the raving lunatics.
This weekend, he laid further claim to the title. And then some.
On Friday morning, at around nine, our man heads off from the hostel to the Institute, fully intending to spend a day in college, the good little boy that he is. Trouble is, as he ends up at the Insti, his enthusiasm wanes, his shoulders droop, and the ghost of Gokhale claims another victim.
First lecture: bunked.
After dawdling here and there, he logs on to this blog, and starts going through it's pages. Until he reaches the part about the Mysore trip.
Now, for reasons that needn't be gone into here, I've landed into what might euphemestically be termed hot water because of that post. And that's putting it mildly.
But it all turned out to be worthwhile... one of those investments that paid rich dividends in the long run.
For after reading that post and staring vacantly into space, at around ten thirty in the morning, Abhinav Kumar Rastogi rushes back to the hostel, packs his bag (one t-shirt, that's it) and climbs into a rickshaw, to hot-foot it to Pune Railway Station.
Objective: Catch the first train headed out to Bangalore.
We've all thought of pulling off madcap schemes like this. The urge to do something totally, completely, wildly mad, and let's think about the consequences later.
Hey, I should know. I went to Mysore.
To cut a long story short, Chaman landed up in Bangalore, and Pecos found a new fan.
Among other wild things that happened that day, (yes, yes, heh heh and all that, thank you very much), Noel, Chaman, Soumya and I managed to work our way through 11 pitchers in about six hours.
There are those who shall read what's written above and go "Wow! 11 pitchers... awesome stuff, man"
There are those knowing, experienced, wise souls, who shall raise a discerning eyebrow, and nod in approval. "Good, good, so you managed it in one day."
There IS a third kind of readership, but we shall be brave and try and ignore their pointed comments.
Which brings me to the title of this blog.
Did you know that Johnny Depp's character, the nutcase who plays J.M. Barrie in that movie, does NOT go and fall in love with Kate Winslet's character?
I mean, if all you knew about the movie was the fact that there's this dude, Barrie, who lives next door to this female, enacted by Winslet... would you or would you not think that they would like... you know.... fall in love at the very least... if not actually do stuff. Ain't that par for the course?
Apparently not! He goes and falls in love with the kids. And then writes that book, and then there's hullalaboo... but not once, apparently does he show the slightest interest in the woman.
I mean, dude! Get a life!
Which has got nothing to do with anything, yes, I know.
It's just a major grouse I have against Depp, Barrie and everybody associated with that movie.
And for the record, the sequel to Pirates of the Caribbean isn't that hot either.
Sigh.
Gonna land up in hot water again.

And well, there you go...

I went back to Pune about a week back.
And I've got good news and I've got bad news.
Pune is as Pune was. The roads are as bad as they ever were, possibly worse. I know, I know, not humanly possible, but who ever told you the PMC was human? It's still raining as much as it ever was, and the lights still go at the drop of a hat. Yup, nothing's changed in Pune.
And now for the bad news.
College ain't the same when you're not in it.
It's a feeling that sticks with you throughout. You meet everybody, and that is a wonderful experience. All the teachers, all the buddies, all the supporting cast... and all that is to the good.
But the magic ain't there.
Everybody back there has his or her own life to lead, and although everybody will talk to you, you get the distinct feeling that you're part tourist, part visitor to a museum, if you know what I mean. It's like you've packed a pair of binoculars and gone on a trip to the past. You can see but please don't touch kind of visit.
The rooms have nostalgia plastered all over them, the corridors have memories, and worst of all, you suck at TT.
Old and all. I'm the one with the salary now.
Unasked for advice to those still in college. Not that you needed to be told, but peoples, please party.
Every night.

Goa Bro

Chya man.
Underlying tensions, and currents and crap like that is the sucky.
Chaman, you the rock.
Cheers.