WAC * - A Rhyme

Eyes bereft sleep
Hungry, missing lunch;
Report on my hand
Stapling the bunch...

Doors to close,
Clocks ticking
Last moment -
Changes making,

Handed the report
Just in time,
Life is dry,
Little rhyme...

I cursed the place,
Swore on me
Felt like fleeing
Reborn free

Came out of the class
Tired, Sour
And then I saw you
Standing there.

U smiled at me,
And I at u
For the 100th time,
Fell again for u.

"Happy n relieved?"
"Me thinks so,
How was yours"?
"I don't know".

"Did you catch a
Sleep last night?"
"No my dear,
The time was tight."

"Printer was out"
"So in my dorm"
"Tuchchis said
That is a norm"

--------
The talks went on
Call it chatters
Hunger, sleep
Nothing matters.


And how did I feel
At the end of the day?
IIMA is the best place
Nothing more to say...

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Disclaimer: Any resemblance with any real character is purely coincidental
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*What is WAC?
The most unique and interesting course in IIMA.Ppl love it.
They cherish the memory related to this course long after they leave.

We had a submission of this , yesterday afternoon.

Ask any WIMWIan ( me included ), in person, for more detail.

Nocturnal diary

Well, it’s 1:30. I just came back from the wash room. After applying cool water at my face already moistened with perspiration, my eyes longing for a sleep, the darkening circles haloing them and my soft nape which retains the coolness of the water for a relatively longer period (Like a lover caressing his love the water sent its cool shivery sensuous touch in every part of that softness), I am back to work with a renewed vigor.

And while writing the case analysis for Club Fed, putting myself under the mantle of a French-Moroccan, Jack Amazllag handling recruitment in US for a US subsidiary of a French company, I am trying to come up with the numerous possibilities that I am sure never occurred in Jack’s mind and not to occur in anybody’s mind who is/was/will be in Jack’s place, but only serve in getting me fair marks (hopefully) in this assignment which holds 1% weight for a 1 credit course I find its absolutely alright, if not necessary to take a little beak to talk to you and invite you to a short walk down the lanes of my earlier romances with night lives in my earlier days.

I remember my days in Hyderabad - coding, decoding, coding and occasionally breaking the code of the office in watching a movie in between, coding again, attempting to fit myself in a combination of a 4’ sofa and a chair in a recumbent position and waking up after sometime to get back to work. I remember my solitary walks through the Begumpet road at this point where the street dogs, couple of drooling police men, a number of women cleaning the streets(one of them flirting with a policeman) , few speeding vehicles, a languishing white ambassador looking for someone to buy for a night coexist altogether in different points of space and time, I pace up towards my residence at DK Road. The moon and stars give me company, the roads guide me , I knock at the door, I ring the bell once, twice, seems I m waiting for infinity, a drowsy voice responds after another ring or a missed call and opens the gate, I trudge myself to my bed and crash…

Not too long way back, there used to be half night outs like these, for nothing. There used to be night outs for fun. There used to be night outs over a “Tinku”, a bread-butter, a coffee toast, a round lawn in front of a building with a tower where the lights have never dimmed for fifty years with the exception of the blackout days of 1971 war between two brothers fighting for a disputed property. There used to be nights of plays, practices of the plays to be acted and the actual staging of the plays we are always taking part in this world -taking part simultaneously, sometimes coherently, rarely discordantly.

But u know, time changes, place changes, face changes, dream changes, inspiration changes. But night remains with its unallied enigmatic appeal --- Dunno why she appeals me so much…