Chapatis & Dal. 
She asks "mishti nibi?".
"Na ma,nebo na", I say, thinking that I gotta resist devouring desserts indiscriminately if I wanna slim down. The JSW offer letter had arrived a few days back. 13th August, the date of joining. A certain term called "overweight" in the medical fitness clause. I saw it,and I knew what I had to do in these 3 months. After which,I would embark on a journey to the lush, green valleys of Bellary from the hot and humid Gangetic plains of Bengal, the land of ilish machh & mishti doi. Yes, the first step towards independence begins 2 days before Independence day. 


Its a Sunday morning today.The 13th of May, 2012. 2 days have passed since I came back home from college. Woke up at 5.30 in the morning, went for a long walk to the Polo Ground, did some jogging,and walked back home. The lazy muscles,the shameless tummy. Pained a lot, as if to defy discipline and carry on the slumber they've been in since time immemorial. They had forgotten sports, walking & running. Stress was dead to them. Sudden comebacks do hurt them a lot. And they did. Came home, wet with sweat, panting & puffing. My feet and arms aching like hell. Had a long, soapy shower. And then came the breakfast. Alongwith it, came the thoughts. Turbulent ample streams,carrying alongwith them pebbles of emotions, gravels of memories and sands of time.


NIT Durgapur. A home, "not-so-far-away"(yes,that's only an hour) from home. For 4 eventful years. Where so many friends were made. Where so many new things-a few good and a plenty bad, were learnt. Where boys became dudes and girls became dudettes. Chemical Engineering. Yeah, heat transfer,mass transfer, reaction engineering and all that crap. The self-glorified evil professors. The painstaking & irritating assignments and sessionals. The invincible class tests and semester exams. The screwed-up grades. The pathetic indifference to fear of consequences. Yes,it brought us closer. We learned to sympathise in each other's sorrows. To rejoice & revel in each other's happiness. The shabby hostel rooms, the unmouthable mess food, Technoe(yes,that's the spelling painted over it), LH More, Jhoops, Back Canteen, the Nescafe kiosk. Yes,all these were an integral contribution to the ambience that is uniquely "nitdgp". Sure, we had City Centre just a 15 minute walk away,with malls, multiplexes & hotels catering to our urban entertainment needs. KFC, Dominos, Subway, Mainland China, Legend, Lemon Grass, Citi Residenci, Peerless Inn, Cafe Coffee Day, Baskin Robbins, Shiraz etc..a list that borders on endless and keeps on increasing progressively everyday. But for the typical college guy out on a simple hangout with his friends...food without booze is never enough. There was the infamous Hotel Super, Pathik Motel and High Octane. And yeah, who can forget the Hanuman Mandir of Gandhi More,which was the official "weed procurement territory" for us. 
The Piya Milan Chowk near the ECE Department was a favourite hangout for couples at night, and an even more favourite loitering area for lone stags(read: frustrated guys) as it gave them ample ogling opportunities & food for thought and imagination (which would invariably end up as a high speed "bhajan" download on the LAN). Oh yes, the LAN. The all powerful messiah with its seemingly inexhaustible and ever expanding collection of, well, everything digital we might possibly need or crave for, which was so essential to help us through "tough times"(read:boring times). And the festive atmosphere. Yes, fests galore. Starting off with Verve, it went through Motor Zundung, Mukti, Chayanika, Ank, Aarohan and finally ended with the bang of Recstacy. Add to that the plethora of events organised by the various clubs of our college, and you get a fun & frolick-filled life. Saraswati Puja, the day guys & gals would visit each other's hostels in sparkling traditional attire. The day was less about asking for blessings from the goddess of learning & more about celebrating it as the Bong Valentine's Day. Days passed by. The birthday GPL sessions which were so sweetly painful. The indiscriminate leg-pulling & teasing acts. The hilarious mischief that I so loved to indulge in. The love talk and the crushes. The departmental picnics to Nehru Park and Panchet Dam. The inevitable tension before appearing for a job interview. Listening to the last minute tips of friends while looseing the tight noose(read: tie) around the neck. The dejection of not getting through. The bewildered joy of getting through. The wild, uncivilised, painful ordeal of celebration that followed. The never-before insane farewell celebration we indulged in. A longlasting, enriching experience peppered with rich toppings of everything one could hope for in college. An infusion which helped me transform from a boy into a man. 


Day before yesterday. I woke up in the morning, knowing it was to be the last whole day I'd spend at college. Lazily brushed my teeth. That's when the call came. "Son, there's no bandh in Asansol today, so there's no need to wait till tomorrow. I'm sending the pickup van. He'll be there in 2 hours." Yes, 2 hours. A bolt from the blue. That's what I had left. Yes, my "last" 2 hours in college. Forever. It gripped me. Felt astounded. Finally felt what the other guys were feeling a couple of days back. It was so terrible. Slipping away from me, slipping away..can't..gotta hold on to it.. But alas,this had to happen! Regained my composure. Hurts real bad when you're suddenly told that your 4 year stay's been cut short by 24 hours. Oh God, I am gonna miss all this! I am gonna miss everything-the good & the bad,the sorrow and the happineess,the curses & the blessings. Called a few friends and let them know that I was leaving. Unwillingly,packed up and dusted my stuff. I'll be leaving this room.302, Hall 4. Leaving this college. nitdgp. Forever. Forever. It kept ringing in my ears. The blue pickup van arrived. Never dusted my room while I lived there,but picked up my broom to do the dirty deed for the first & last time. You've sheltered me for the last year of my college. I will remember you. I will remember everything. I will remember everyone..... 


Love you all my dear friends,
Hope we'll meet very soon...
"Will miss you" signals my heart sends,
Oh God, thank you for this wonderful boon... 

Ordinary or Special???

THIS IS ME.
AN ORDINARY GUY.
THERE'S NOTHING SPECIAL ABOUT ME.


I was quite a strange guy,according to my friends.Studied in St. Vincents(a boys' school) till class 10,and was gradually nearing completion of a
seamless transformation from my mom's cute,chubby cheeked crybaby "monu" to a naughty boy. All day I played pranks at school and even
at my tuitions.I was part of a wild group of boys,the ones you would come across in boys' schools every now and then.But,the fact
remained,that I was a good student i.e. not in terms of impeccability of behaviour or sincerity,but in terms of marks.I never burned
the midnight oil,but studied quite regularly.If I got a word of praise from the teacher in a class,for scoring highest in a class test,
I would invariably ensure that the good work was undone in the next class by splashing water on some unsuspecting guy,or slanging my 
heart out against someone else for some negligibly unnoticeable grudge,or some other silly act.I remember one incident when the whole 
crowd ran to the windows in the midst of a classroom just to see two street dogs mating below a tree.The spanking we had after that
reminded us of its occurence whenever we sat on chairs,benches,anything(non-discriminatory pain,isn't it?),and particularly strongly 
every morning during the glorious process of defecation(for the next 4 days,to be precise). 


Like typical students of a boys' school,we were really never short of testosterone(though many of us never bothered to read what 
testosterone and the endocrine system actually were),and it showed when we had the school fetes.Loreto Convent and 
A.G.Church were names treated with utmost love(more lust than love,according to me) by some.Looking at them,one would ask "who says
the women are oppressed in this country?". Large eyeballs were ready to pop out any moment,tongues started hanging(dry in the 
heat,no saliva though) in delight,baboon smiles appeared on our faces,the song dedication stall(well,we had those in school too,no 
Radio Nitroz,though) had a sudden rush and almost started crumbling under the enthusiasm of so many hungry wolves. Some girls smiled
shyly,some lifted up their noses as if to defy the sky,twisted their lipstick-laden lips and turned their faces away. And the rare instance
that a guy talked with a girl,they became the centre of attraction. After the minute long conversation was over,the look on the boy's 
face was as if he was Tom Cruise."Could you believe it man!She asked me the cost of this pen in my pocket!!CAN YOU IMAGINE!!!
GOD,THANK YOU!!!".This was the general scenario.


Coming back to worse things, I got 94% marks in my board examinations. Mom and dad were very happy. I wanted to get out of home,
as fast as possible,utilizing these marks.As talks started of me moving out for 11 and 12,my mom(like typical Bengali moms) got sick and didn't
eat food for 3 days. I had almost zeroed in on taking admission at DPS,Bokaro,but had to forcefully wrench the thought out of my mind.
I went to Burnpur Riverside School,one close to my home,and one where maximum of my school friends had shifted base.I was sad and 
to console myself,I thought:


THIS IS ME.
AN ORDINARY GUY.
THERE'S NOTHING SPECIAL ABOUT ME.


Now. First day of school. A co-ed school. I still remember what my mom told me that first day."Be a good boy. Talk to girls properly.
Don't get angry unnecessarily". I was unsure how this would turn out. Of course,I had few of my old friends in my class. The first few days,
I was actually afraid to interact with them. All that came to mind was "you nasty brute...you naughtiness personified...you foul mouthed 
monster...girls will run away from you...they don't talk with people like you...they talk to good boys...coz they are GOOD GIRLS".
But,gradually,I discovered that girls could also be naughty,crack jokes just like us,bunk classes and have fun. I made quite a few friends
among them.And in the highly effective process of dissemination of information,we got to know each others' "code names" for referring 
to the other sex and discussions of various aspects of it.I found a whole new consumer base to target with my talent,one that
I had taken to great heights and made it an art,i.e. legpulling.This new consumer base mostly consisted of lovebirds(dedicated,fickle minded,
wannabe,and "used-to-be").Even unwilling(and sometimes,unsuspecting) candidates(mostly simpletons) were pulled into forged link ups,
created so perfectly by the combined team effort of a few people(wonder where the brilliance of team work fled when we had our 
practicals,where we spent more time manipulating calculations than in doing the experiments). These things may seem ruthless time killers,
but they served the very important purpose of providing valuable gossip material.
As a student,I found myself on a declining curve.My marks began slipping down a bit,and assortments of scoldings at home were just
value-added benefits ready to steamroll my brain at the slightest pretext.I also made friends with quite a few number of boys who 
came from other schools. I started indulging in more fun and frolick. The devil of adolescence was rapidly taking over the reins
of my mind,body and soul.Mindless gossip throughout school,during tuitions and even after tuitions became an important part of my
life.Trying to ape many others,took correspondence coaching from Fiitjee.Never took it seriously,and as happens,the study material
zoomed past my grey matter without dropping even a small pebble of knowledge on my skull. I still remember how I used to flip through 
the pages of those booklets without understanding 90% of what was printed on those pages.At tuitions,I paid less attention to the
teacher and concetrated more on the jokes and sniggers he was being subjected to,without his knowledge. Sometimes I wondered what
would ultimately happen of me. Would I be able to settle myself well in life?Would I succeed in making my parents feel proud of me?
Would I become wealthy and prosperous,and get that life of contentment that eludes so many?
Some questions can't be answered so easily. I couldn't,and thought that the best way to these answers was to turn on my pc and play
Prince of Persia or to squat on Orkut(Facebook wasn't so popular then).Life was good,full of memorable incidents. I remember the day 
the class 11 students gave us the farewell.Such celebrations are always accompanied by events meant to bring out the naughty boy in you.
The would-be-pass outs were asked to come on to the stage and speak "whatever they wanted".Due to an inexplicable sense of outrageous 
courage that overpowered me,I remember having walked on to the stage and in front of all the teachers,staff and students and proposed
to Sujata,the girl on whom I had a crush. All the girls gaped at me with mouths open,the teachers were shocked(luckily the principal was
down with fever that day),some guys hooted and cheered for me.Whatever it was,I enjoyed the moment. That one day,the last day at
school,I was the most talked about person(be it in good or bad taste,didn't bother me),and I loved it.
Back to worse things. I got 85.4% marks in my board exams,and this was concrete proof of my degradation.
I again thought:


THIS IS ME.
AN ORDINARY GUY.
THERE'S NOTHING SPECIAL ABOUT ME.


Daily bouts of scoldings and insults followed,the ones the elder boy in the family is usually subjected to. Whatever time was left to prepare 
for the competitive exams,I tried to utilize. But,I felt a strange sense of lack of enthusiasm. Didn't crack IIT-JEE,as expected. Got a 
rank of 24948 in AIEEE,which wasn't a very pleasant surprise but gave a sense of relief(atleast I wouldn't have to die hungry,hah!),which 
sufficed to get me chemical engineering here in NIT Durgapur(mom was happy again,her son was so close to home..typical bengali mom).It's
been just 19 months till now,and life is quite ordinary. Many things bad,many things good.Still now,I wonder what would happen of me. Those 
3 questions still have no answer.But there's one thing(among many other things) I've learnt here.And that's why,irrespective of what happens,
I tell myself:


THIS IS ME.
AN ORDINARY GUY.
AND THAT'S WHY THERE'S DEFINITELY SOMETHING SPECIAL ABOUT ME.

Girls in my department...

Well,many people(college mates as well as people outside) have this uncanny habit of asking me..."tor department er meyegulo kamon re?amader gulo ekdom baje..."

Apart from electrical,computer science,information technology & biotech guys,of course(hehe)...they are pretty much happy..in general..

So,here's my...let's say.."analysis",or whatever you call it...of the girls in my department..Chemical Engineering.I'm not saying it's gonna be a perfect analysis...errors always love to creep in..but I'll just blabber out what I have learnt,inferred or concluded about them..these conclusions are the ones which reside in my skull now...and it's perfectly feasible that they might be changed,slowly or drastically..whatever...

So,here do I take off..

Aratrika Gupta:
Class representative of the girls,and rightly so.By attitude,as well as by dimensions. She's got the ability to negotiate and speak with the profs and make things convenient for the entire class.Thanks to her efforts(Ravi Ranjan,the CR of the boys...is a big letdown,frankly),we'll finally be getting the Friday 2nd half off from this week onwards. Talks in the right quantity,neither less,nor more(unlike me..I just go on blabbering in a wayward fashion in the class).Big,hulky and tall(though not as much as me and Anweshan). Occasionally wafts out of the classroom to meet her boyfriend when the prof isn't there.

Silky Sinha:
This small,frail and puny girl with gleaming spectacles looks like the next Mahasweta Devi who drinks every morning from the fountain of youth to keep old age away from herself.Books and copies are an integral part of her life.That is evident from her frantic efforts to get a sum solved as soon as it is uttered by the prof. As one of the boys put it(I won't disclose his name here) " meyeta morbar poreo boi niye chitai jolbe".Rarely she smiles,and rarely she utters something other than studies.

Debarati Dutta:
This is one girl whom I knew from 1st year itself,through Abhijit Das alias Eddie(now don't ask me why Eddie...I think you are smart enough to know that,hehe).She gets irritated whenever I tease her about Eddie or,more recently,about Ambuj,the perverted old prof who teaches us machine design(the asshole has a big-time crush on her...taking her cellphone no and what not...even asking other boys to tell her to call him....frustoo).Whatever,she's a good friend and knows to smile as well.When I need info about something in the department,I simply turn to her.

Nilanjana Chakraborty:
She's an NRI from Bangladesh.In the class,she speaks less and murmurs more. Nervous most of the time. God knows why. And that's why,when I occasionally flash my trademark naughty smile with curly bracket eyebrows,she turns more nervous..haha!!One day,I was in the library to issue the prescribed books. They were all there..in rows and stacks..right in front of her..yet the poor gal couldn't figure them out.And when she sees the books in my arm,she asks me "kothay peli re?". I reply,"tor chokher samnei ache,dekh".Nervous maiden still can't figure out where in the world the books are. Then I pull out the books for her."Holo ebare?Tor chokher samnei toh chilo".On the first day of Chemistry lab,I naughtily clicked a pic of her and our extra-stylish Tollywood hero,Sushobhan Saha..just talking. That was enough reason to panic,considering my mastery at dynamically altering interpretations,hehe!!For those who are already interested,dudes,I'll upload it very soon on my orkut album.Watch out!!

Piyali Chakraborty:
Well,well..it won't be much wrong to say that she's a "much talked-about" individual. She was the MISS FRESHERS when we were in 1st year. Small,wiry-framed gal..much like Silky,but "ucchingri" would be the correct way to describe her. And her energy and vitality are better visible to others when she's not wearing her spectacles. She has innumerable admirers and lovers in the college. Sometimes I think it would be better if these lovers would have formed a union or an association,hehe!!! And one of the members is in our department. I wouldn't reveal his name here,but all I can say is...he's making frantic and desperate attempts to win over her...but till now,its been nothing short of being completely futile. This gal also talks very less in the class.

Versha Rani:
By default settings,this gal from Farakka has got a 16+16=32 watt smile glowing from inside her mouth,24x7.
A calm,quite,soft spoken girl...again...speaks very less. I don't know much about her and so,I don't have much material to write about her,apart from the fact that my roomie Saurabh Kumar(ECE) was her senior at school i.e. KV,Farakka.

Harshika Prasad:
The first time I met and talked with this girl from Bihar was at the departmental farewell of the final year students. She was the only 1st year girl who had attended it. Well,we didn't talk much,apart from an introduction. Mostly the talk revolved aroung the ragging scenario in the Bihar zone,with Ravi Ranjan and Anweshan doing most of the talking.As regards now,she's arguably the gal who speaks the least in our entire class. Just comes inside the class with her trademark pink Levi Strauss t-shirt coupled with jeans,and after its over,back to hostel. Leave out boys,she rarely talks even to the girls in the class.

Tshering Bhutia:
Profs,as well as students flounder big-time while pronouncing her name,which is why many unnecessary sniggers and smiles are raised in the classroom. This gal from Sikkim seems to peer from behind her spectacles with suspicious eyes at the outer world. Again,like most girls,speaks very less.Smiles lesser.

Well,that sums up a short "description" of the gals of my department,Chemical Engineering.
I'll come back with more posts. Till then,let's see what topic I can think of...

The "Accidental" start to 2nd year

So..a sort of new beginning...
2nd year was about to start and so,we went back to college after nearly 3 months(a very short period of time,I must say). We were to be allotted rooms in Halls 1 & 2. The beautifully democratic country that India is...people are very serious about obeying what purists call "official". And quite aptly so, we went early..giving a damn f*** to the official allotments...determined to forcefully occupy rooms of our choice...
Yeah...I am criticizing it...but lemme tell you guys...I myself was a party to it..I was officially allotted Hall 1...and I didn't want to stay there...I wanted Hall 2...
The confusion...the quarrels...the shouting and yelling...the throwing in and out of trunks,bedding,luggage etc...well...from a sadist's point of view...it was an ultimately enriching experience...coming close to beating what happens daily in our Lok Sabha...
But,totality lacks.Some people indeed stick to "official" allotments,especially if they've been allotted rooms of their choice.With the delayed arrival of those people,they brought with them the demon the boys refer to as "warden" and then began the clean up drive. "Unauthorized" occupants were driven out of the rooms and told to curl up inside their allotted rooms.
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED,purists would say.
HAHA!!!
Fools!!!
Then began such a frantic round of boys moving here and there...and the kind of negotiations that took place..it would put those stockbrokers on the Bombay Stock Exchange and Nifty to shame and make them sit up and take notice. Exchange offers on allotted rooms,exchange offers on beds etc. BUSINESS MINDS,one must say. And the kind of trading that took place...it was like pure interlinking of multiple chains on the prisoner in jail....here the prisoners being Halls 1 and 2. Structures of complex network polymers would be much simpler to all this stuff.

REALLY,AN EXPERIENCE THAT STANDS OUT PURELY ON THE BASIS OF ITS ECCENTRICITY.

Now..
What was I doing all this while?

On the 19th of July,I had gone to the hostel to "book" myself a room in Hall 2. Ran up and down the stairs the whole day.Without much output,I must say.Didn't get a room.. I had to sleep on a bare iron cot in room 116. Luckily I had a half-pant in my bag which I put on before going to sleep. And the dusty,sweaty trousers which i had worn the whole day..that became my pillow for the night.I think I needn't talk of the kind of sleep I had,any duffer would understand that.Yeah,for the whole night,I had to fight with hyper-romantic mosquitoes who were hell-bent on sucking "red love" from my body.
The next day,I went back home in the morning,to pack my luggage and bring it back to hostel.
Me and dad set off for college in the afternoon...at around 3:30 p.m. I was driving the Splendor Plus .Dad was sitting behind me...with the luggage. We had just crossed Andal and were nearing the overbridge at Kajora,on NH-2. I was driving at around 75 kmph. There was a bus a few yards in front of me. Suddenly,it braked.I braked too..slowed down a bit..but maybe that split second delay was what couldn't bring me to a dead stop. The front part of the bike rammed against the skirt of the bus. And my head rammed against the bus.The corner of the steel cage of the rear lamp of the bus hit my forehead and split it apart..while my nose rammed against the metal surface of the bus.
Instantaneous bleeding. I felt a searing pain in my nose and forehead..and could feel the fresh,warm,blood trickling down my forehead and nostrils.Luckily,I hadn't fallen down and my dad,sitting on the back,was unhurt.
We came to the side of the road. Two other motorists saw us and came to lend a helping hand. Luckily enough,I WAS ALIVE.
Luckily enough,MY BRAIN WAS WORKING.
I put my handkerchief to my nose only to find it splattered with red all over. I came to college and was admitted into the medical unit.
The first thing I told my dad was "maa ke bolo na please"...
He showed me the bike.The indicator panel was smashed to bits.The headlight was broken. Even half of the key had broken and stayed inside.It was not possible to hide THAT from my mom.
He said "ashol dhakka ta bike ta niye niyeche....ar luckily pechone kono gari chilo na..nahole tui ar ami dujonei beche thaktam na"..
I HAD NO ANSWER.
Some of my friends came to the medical unit...Rohit,Dipayan,Santikari,Rahul,Rajdip,Prithwish,Ananda,Sayan,Ishan,Poulami and Sathi.
Support from friends indeed feels good. Neverthless, I had to undergo the pain of a stitch on my forehead. While peircing the needle into my forehead,the nurse explains "tomar chamra ta gondarer moto shokto". Freakish,just like me.I was given a nose pack to stop the heavy bleeding. Next morning,I was discharged,but had to report to the medical unit every alternate day for dressing the stitch.
Well, I went back to hostel.I was lucky to get a good room for myself in Hall 2. Though its a room beside the bathroom,it isn't smelly and all. Nice,jolly roomies I got...Saurabh Kumar and Kunal Singh..both from ECE...
So,that pretty much sums it up...lets see when I can come up with a new post..

My Life outside Bengal...

So,now..after all that INTRODUCTORY CRAP which I've cannonned at you people,lemme say something more sensible.

About me,that is.

My life's quite interesting.C'mon,now don't say..."publicity stunt"..atleast listen to it first!

I was born on the 10th of November,1989 at Hill View Nursing Home,Asansol.The doc was Dr. Sanath Sinha(pity it wasn't Sanath Jayasuriya...otherwise instead of giving me medicines he would have given me a plastic cricket bat...hehe).In the same place was born,2 days after me,a naughty bloke...one whom I later came to know as Arkadeb Mukherjee...a good friend at B.R.S. Celebrity kid..grandson of former Asansol mayor Bamapada Mukherjee. Well,now he's busy chasing Aunkita Bardhan..but no,wait...I'll tell that story sometime later..I really marvel at my ability to drift away form the topic,I must say!!!

Well,the starting years(not years,not even months,to be precise..days) at Asansol...I don't remember.My father worked in the Indian Air Force in the RADAR operations,and so,pretty soon after I was born,we were off to Delhi. We stayed at the Air Force quarters at Halwara in Delhi. Naughty as I was,i troubled people everywhere.I still remember the 1st friend I ever made..Pappu Nayek..I've got no trace of him now. We were the tricycle champs in our colony..and often ventured out together in search of pure and simple fun...just like hunky guys zoom around in search of...umm..babes..(damsels...birds..whatever u call them)..I still remember an incident that happened then. One day,I went out alone...tricycling my way through.Somehow,TAARE ZAMEEN PAR style,I lost my sense of direction and went out of the campus all the way to the Air Force Hospital. In the meantime,my mom had started panicking.Luckily,a colleague of my dad found me and took me home.Another time,it was a Punjabi truck driver who took me back home and scolded my dad,"bahut badmaash bachha hai aapka...mar jata mere truck ke niche!!"...

Hmm..naughty,wasn't I???I made life hell for my classmates at the Air Force School in Halwara. Kicked and slapped the boys,and pulled at those irritating "tails" hanging form the girls' skulls.

Here,I should also mention the fact that I'm one of those rare Bengalis who learnt Hindi first and then my mother tongue.

For a few months,we had also stayed at Ludhiana,Punjab.

Don't have much to say but I loved trying to catch those big fishes at the Golden Temple in Amritsar...i needn't say that I didn't succeed in my endeavour.

I have vague,hazy memories of my birthdays there...dad says I danced a lot in one..and slept throughout in another..etc. I got to see a lot of Russians in the parties that dad went.Maybe a team or group had been sent for some joint training camps and drills...which are so common even now.Booze was an integral part of their culture...vodka..to be more specific..But the thing which astonished me the most was the way in which they devoured big chunks of horse-meat,yuck!!

A very memorable Shimla trip(where I had a great time plucking apples from trees and throwing them away...didn't bother to eat them..i hate apples) is also one of the few things I remember.

Whatever I remember of the life there(though it's too little),was..sort of...good..

Afterwards,dad retired from the Air Force and we came back home,to our birthplace..Asansol.

That was the end of life in Northern India and the beginning of life in "Amar Sonar Bangla"..

The Beginning Footstep...

So,here I am..trying my hand at blogging.Dunno whether it'll suit a crazy,eccentric,freakish brute like me or not.

Okay,okay...let me start things a bit formally.I'm currently pursuing my B.Tech in Chemical Engineering from NIT Durgapur.By God's grace...or thanks to the hyposexual profs..I've passed my 1st year and waiting for the 2nd year to begin. In case,old grizzly haired people wonder what this bloody NIT is..well..grandpas..uncles...and whatever..RE College..that should satisfy you...althought I know that its highly improbable that people of your age group will be reading this. Don't get peeved,though.

I'm an expert at drifting away form topics,readers may think.This crazy RONNIE hits out at the old generation in what could have been a simple professional introduction.Well,I told you..he's a freak. So read my blog only if you are not a heart patient,or you are not suffering form loose motion.I may sound rude,but that's the way I am.

Iam open to changes,definitely. If you can come up with something great which you think must be drilled into my rotten skull,you are welcome to approach..but I am the one who holds the drilling machine!!!

You are free to comment generously (or selfishly) at my posts...I'm a great advocate of democracy...and I love the limelight..

Here I go..then..