Aaaah...Hmm...Well. Holidays are over then. Its time to go back to Manipal. I've had a mixed vacation of sorts. But its ended well, and the thought of going to where Engineering Drawing classes await, is a bit dreary.
Let me see how the vacation went. Analyse. Look back. Retrospect [is that even a verb?]:
I shopped [now I understand a guy's blog should never have this as point #1, but then I had to go again and again so often that I feel I must]. Once even purely out of the goodness of my heart.
I roamed here and there, without aim, breathing in the joy part in City of Joy.
I met some really old friends. Also went out in innocent merrymaking with others.
Had bitter arguments and sweet conversations. All for the good.
Checked out my old school. It seems to be doing okay without me, much to my egotistical amazement.
Made some degree of sense out of whats been wrong with my head. Not that its going away, but still. Progress is progress.
Saw a gaggle of pretty girls at Park Street and, as I assumed my cool unconcernedly concerned (alternative: concernedly unconcerned?) gait, tripped right in front of them on a damned cobblestone.
But by far the most amazing and fantastic and wonderfully unexpected incident was this. I was trundling along at Pantaloons, muttering under my breath about the dammit prices, when I saw my old junior school class-teacher on the other aisle. She had taught me in Class 1, and I hadnt seen her since. I went up to her and wished her. And she looked me up and down and said, "Nishant."
My eyes went wide as saucers. How does she remember my name? I asked her. She gave me an amused smile, directed at my look of utter gasping amazement, and said something about obviously remembering. I couldn't stop gushing. I have a feeling I was blushing like crazy too. I spoke to her for awhile longer and then floated away on my 9th cloud.
Beat that! My Class 1 teacher remembers my name! I didn't think anyone could (or would). Its been what 12 years now? And hasn't my face changed a minuscule bit? I had a bit of a stubble, which I dont think I had then. And I'm taller and all obviously. I thought about it all. And I've come upon a conclusion. I guess this proves what I've had an inkling about for a long time now.
I'm just absolutely impressive. There isnt any question about it now. No one can forget the sight of my dearly cheerful face and my lovely smile that lights up their eyes and minds. There is something about my natural charm that has made them still recall that young superlative boy of years six. Even though there life has since been bound in shallows and in miseries, taming and training nasty little pokemons, they remember the wonderful days of educating (and indeed, in the process, even learning from) this bright little boy-wonder. Yup, that must be it.
Is it this other thing a few people sometimes seem unduly eager to point out? You know, all that ridiculous tosh about me still being slightly immature and childish in my ways? That I never really grew up. I do expect quite a few comments along those lines. But I stand strong. I'm more mature than you could ever be. So there! *sticks his tongue out*
We stick with opinion presented before.
Anyway, before I close, I feel this need to justify my thing about shopping over and over again. I have reached a bit of a conclusion as to that as well. The next time, when I go through the mundane hours spent picking out cloth, and draping myself with it in claustrophobic trial rooms, and I regret the sheer amount of time I'm wasting at it, I shall be reminded of that one golden day. The one golden day when I made a purchase which gave me true inner satisfaction. Its really why we shop. The day a feeling of brotherly love, peace and contentment washed over me, as the counter-guy swiped my money off my hands and quickly stashed into his register. I shall remember that day and I will smile. And I will feel a bit of all right. And when my mom knocks on the door, sweetly asking me if I've fainted or something inside and what the hell is taking me so long, I will oblige her. I will hurry up.
For on that golden day, I bought these. And my life is better for it. And the roses are redder, and my self-confidence is soaring once again, and I can't stop it with the overly elaborate descriptions that have nothing to do with anything.
Ladies and gentlemen, my new pair of absolutely jhinchak Converse sneakers.
[notice the halo on the side. they are blessed.]
Now I bid thee a thousand farewells as I leave my so-ugly-its-bloody-beautiful city. Leaving feels just as bad as it did the last time. Perhaps more.
But don't worry. Dont cry, my dears. I will be back. Posting shall continue from Manipal, as regular as ever. There there. Dont cry. There there.