Ranchi Chronicles: Onset of Winter

It has been more than three months at BIT and the weather has taken a dramatic turn. I cannot recollect three straight days of sunlight since I got here for it never stopped raining. The rain came gently, it came crashing! The surrounding forest made the rain enchanting, at first, monotonous thereafter and annoying later. Any hint of depression over the Bay of Bengal, depressed a sea that it is, brings mighty rainfall here! This week, however, the sun shone upon us-amazingly pleasant days, sunshine, endless rows of trees merrily shaking their green canopy in happy agreement while the leafless ones, with their skeletal branches, stands cloaked in a blanket of mist and haze. The mist sets in by dusk and only thins into nothingness when the sun shines forth breaking its magical. Green that the campus is, enormous lawns, Gulmohar trees, rose bushes, the effect is phenomenal. Accentuating the pleasantness is the shadowy main building shimmering through the thinning mist. Golden beams of sunlight filter through the gaps between the ancient pillars and carpet the corridors in patches of gold and black. The mist also diffuses into the passages of the hostel building, spooky yet mesmerizing. I am in love with the weather here and I get to witness winter after an era!

While the weather has charmed me studies have entrapped me in its tightening shackles. There is so much to do, so many assignments to finish, research papers to study, seminars, study! But, truth be told, it feels better than punching and crunching numbers at work! The conundrum I had been living through, quitting a job, getting back to college, does not feel difficult any longer. I feel blissfully optimistic and better equipped than at the beginning of the year.

I was at home for a short vacation too! Although overcome by happiness at being home, I was dismayed by the socio-political situation at Shillong. I was also stunned by the changes that had occurred at home. It was foolish to have expected the familiarity, I knew of, to remain. I was troubled by the sight of my books dust-laden and neglected, I was annoyed to realize that my carefully preserved sketches through school were no where to be found, and I was upset with the newness about home, the colour of walls, the new arrangement, not what my memory conjured every time I pictured home. My inner eye plainly refused to accept any change! Some day, not today, not yet. Every visit home brings about its share of surprises, pleasant and not so pleasant; the harshness of missing out on so many things, missing out on seeing my little brother growing up, stating his opinions, seeing more grey in my mothers temples, seeing my grandmother hollowed and weakened through years, the happy conversations with my uncle, listening to my sisters litany. Albeit shaken by the changes, I bonded better with my brother and sister. Connecting as adults, we reminisced the carefree childhood days, discussed relationships, spiritualism. Home, home! I, bitterly and sadly, know that my presence at home shall always be temporary and that I can never go back to being there; it was exit, meant to be permanent.

1st November, 2013


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