Laws of the Wings

Sam: Everywhere I lie, there's a dirty great root stickin' into my back.
Frodo: Just shut your eyes... and imagine you're back in your own bed... with a soft mattress and a lovely feather pillow.
Sam: It's not workin', Mr. Frodo. I'm never gonna be able to sleep out here.
Frodo: Me neither, Sam.

Sophies in IIT are divided into those who do not have a wing, and those who have had toothpaste on their nipples. If you consider yourself unlucky because you don’t have a wing, think again. And again. And if your brain and your seniors allow you, yet again. In fact, you should go on thinking until you find a wing, at which point of time, you will not be in state to think, because of a cold sensation on your chest, often called toothpaste.

And Sam thought sleeping on the rough ground was a problem.

Some luckier sophies only had to go on booze treats with their seniors, inconspicuously titled ‘wing treats’. In case you were wondering, the treat is for seniors. The bill, for the sophies. Some sophies remember this night as the night they lost their alcohol virginity; Others, for pole-dancing around their roomies.

An old lady said in an irrelevant movie, “I believe there's a hero in all of us.” But simply wearing your underwear over your trousers doesn’t make you one (It does provide a good laugh for your seniors.)

A hero doesn't run away from his destiny. He just stands there (preferably, clothed), praying for his life.

Remark: Actually, the scene isn’t that bad.
Observation: In H-5, it is.
Comment by Samuel Jackson: Muahahahaha.

Turning the Tables

I remember my first night in my hostel. I lay awake in my bed, scared out of my wits by stories of ragging. After all, my friend’s uncle’s brother, twice separated, actually had to strip. And in the following days, I remember countless intros. Sitting meekly opposite a senior, trying to force a smile and look calm.

And now, suddenly, the tables are turned. We, as sophies, are supposed to scare the wits out of freshies. Make them lie awake in bed, cowing from fear of being ragged by us. And make them remember the terrible tale of their relative from Tahiti.

Surprisingly, I still lie awake in my bed, scared out of my wits by stories of seniors getting DAC's. After all, my friend's uncle's brother, twice separated actually got a DAC because he tried to get a freshie to strip. With all the outcry about the expulsion and the huge posters, complimentary, from the government of Maharashtra, I’m bound to be. I walk up to a newly-admitted, muster all my courage, and ask in my most dangerous baritone, “Aye, freshie, idhar aa.”


A year later, were still the ones who fear 'intros'. Who would've thought that a year back.

Okay, let’s say, I forget about the perils, for a moment. Here I am, a student who’s a year old in an institute ranked amongst the best in education and I’m supposed to look like Samuel Jackson with a gun, when I haven’t even seen one outside of movies? Neither a gun, nor Samuel Jackson.

I’m not a religious guy, but Superman, if you’re there, help me!

The Year That Was

Big Dreams, Bigger Rooms
We had everything we needed to settle into our new home. Books, clothes and aspirations being the major part of our baggage. We opened the door and our gaze settled on a room not much bigger than our study desk at home (deny all you will but study desks of prospective IITians were big). But what’s that at the back of the room? A door. My expectations rose as I hoped against hope that the back door opened into another room. But alas, my hopes vanished into thin air as I saw three earthworms in the ground behind the door.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Bathday ….
The three golden rules of good etiquette:
Never ask a woman her age. Never ask a man his salary. Never ask an IITian the frequency of his baths.

At school we learnt, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness”. Here, in this divine institute, we’ve learnt that the emphasis is on next to.

Dude, Where’s my ragging?
Post JEE, the demons in our dreams were replaced by fire-breathing IIT seniors torturing freshies. Back in the real world, the cheerful bunch of friendly seniors was a kind of, let’s say, letdown…

Cow Poop
The scenic horizon here at IIT is dotted with beautiful trees, looming quizzes and heaps of cow poop. Had this been told to us before coming here, we’d have replied with “Bullshit!”

Who Moved my Girls?
Indeed, who did?

Leopard, Leopard, Burning Bright
We thought we knew what competition is, having slain the JEE monster. But, coming here gave an altogether new meaning to the phrase “Survival of the Fittest”. It’s a real jungle out there.

"Cadet, Aage Chal"
On every (read oh-so rare) Saturday mornings. In uniform. Polished shoes, a mild hangover from the previous night. Need I say more? Almost forgot the NP....

Cow Poop - Revisited
This time round we're talking about the delicious stuff that's served in our messes (how aptly named!) So the mess food pales in comparison to mama's cooking, but surely it isn't that bad? "More bullshit!"

That, friends, was the year that was. Welcome to the Real World.