THE JEE AFTERMATH

You know what? The world is going crazy. The best rapper is a white guy. The best golfer is a black guy. The tallest guy in the NBA is Chinese. The Swiss hold the America's Cup. France is accusing the United States of arrogance. Germany doesn't want to go to war. The most celebrated singer in India sings through his nose. Finally, the three most powerful men in America are named 'Bush', 'Dick', and 'Colon'. On the bright side, when we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained.

You know, I always think I've hit the bottom, only to realize that when I look back a few months from now, they are fond memories compared to how low things have become. Were it offered to my choice, I should have no objection to a repetition of the same life from its beginning, only asking the advantages authors have in a second edition to correct some faults in the first. No matter how bad things get, you got to go on living, even if it kills you. The basic rule of human nature is that powerful people speak slowly and subservient people quickly -- because if they don't speak fast nobody will listen to them. So this is a jovial attempt on my part to keep it real on my part and share this whole drama I have been witnessing these past two months.

So, it was the morning of May 31st. Not having access to the internet at that time, and the IVRS system of IITB wedged bigtime, the anxiety of my JEE result was eating the daylights out of me. Well, I had wretchedly fucked issues on April 9th which had put me in such misery and desolation days before the results were out. Well, I won’t go into the exact minutiae of how I discovered my result, but I was kind of pleased. Not overly in raptures considering the feeling hadn’t sunk in as yet, I was more apprehensive at that moment in time to ascertain whether my other pals made the cut or not. Well, few did, but the majority of them didn’t. What began after that was downright pandemonium. Calls began flooding in at home with the same alacrity with which I insatiably consume paneer in restaurants. “Rahul (that’s my moniker at home), you’ve done it!!”
“Beta Rahul, when are you coming to my house?”
“Rajat, where’s the party, dude?”
Well, I was very appreciative of the accolades I was getting. It was extraordinarily pristine for me because I’ve never been appreciated for anything I have done in life. I have been such an asshole in the way I have spent mine because I considered life as something which is not so bad if you have plenty of luck, a good physique and not too much imagination. Existence is painful, nasty and short... in my case it had only been painful and nasty.

But then, as time moved on, it suddenly dawned upon me – Who the fuck is on the other side of the line?? I have far-flung relatives who I haven’t met for years, if not, forever; telling me what an eligible bachelor I have become after having pulled off the world’s toughest entrance exam for any university – the IITJEE and crossing the threshold of one of the most coveted engineering institutions God’s green earth has to offer. These friends who antagonized me with their presence all through my younger years now want to kiss my ass because I’ve become this model millionaire who is now a class apart from the rest because of this recently inherited title of ‘King of Science’. Oh and there’s a flipside to this whole debate as well. My really close friends, as in the bum chum types, now see me in this new light. They think considering I am going places, I will be disregarding my roots and just move on in life without them. Some don’t even take the trouble of calling due to phony inferiority complexes. Whenever I’m in conversation with the remnants, they’re like - “Fodu, kaisa chal raha hai?” Well, first things first, I wouldn’t mind the title of being called a Fodu. Well, having said that, this categorically pisses me off because I’ve been titled as something which I legitimately am not.
The other day I was at a friend’s birthday merrymaking. I introduced myself as a simple guy, reasonably with both feet on the ground. When I was asked where I studied, I riposted, with a smidgen of vacillation – Aerospace Engineering, IIT Bombay. Well, I didn’t really brace myself for the music that was to follow, even though the reflection of what they later alleged was somewhat tongue in cheek when one comes to think of it. A guy, Mayank declared that these fucking IITian guys are so despo, they letch at guys letting their imagination run riot to the tainted prospect that they are actually chicks; as there aren’t any at the IIT’s. No chip on his shoulder from me; because he’s one great guy. But I am rather a tad confused, more than gnashing my teeth on this stupid crap! Is the IITian species desperate, perverted or both!!

After IIT has happened, it seems to me that - All the world's a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed. Why doesn’t the Almighty or whoever is up there, give a flying fuck about preparing us humans to endure this fickle and capricious world. Lovers hate me, haters love me. My contacts eschew me and far-off associates who I don’t give a rat’s ass about approach me like I’m some overnight celebrity. I was this conventional guy minding his own business going about his droning life like anyone else. And now, the perspective of all and sundry has so dramatically transformed that I wonder, whether this one “faux pas” called IITJEE has washed away my very own identity into the depths of despair. May be I should realize, that life is not a static thing. The only people who do not change their minds are incompetents in asylums, and those in cemeteries. Or maybe that life is full of disappoinments, and that I am full of life already! Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.

Chalo, I’m signing off for now. Last night the creative juices were flowing but today I am merely a vast wasteland of random thoughts.