Posts Tagged ‘masti’
हॉस्टल की यादें
सुट्टे का धुंआ, पसरा था हर ओर,
नशे की चुप्पी, न होता कोई शोर,
किस राह चलें, क्यों सोचें हम,
हॉस्टल, दोस्त, मस्ती हरदम|
ठहर जाता था वक़्त, आकर वहां,
वो धरती, आसमान, वही सारा जहाँ,
खेले कूदे, लड़े झगड़े, सब वहां,
किसने कहा जन्नत नहीं होती यहाँ|
वो किला था हमारा, हम सिपह:सलार,
सजती थी महफ़िल, लगता दरबार,
औरत जात का आना मना है इधर,
हर दीवार पर यही लिखा था उधर,
पहली बार का जश्न, जोरदार,
पहली हार का मातम, खूंखार,
किताबों की जली होली, मज़ा,
छुट्टी में घर जाना लगती थी सज़ा|
मारपीट की नौबत, कुछ कहा हो,
किसीने हॉस्टल के खिलाफ, जो,
हो जाते सब तयार, जान देने को,
जब उसकी इज्ज़त ताक पर हो|
वहीँ सब सीखा, वहीँ सब किया,
वहां नहीं रहा, तो क्या ही जिया,
हॉस्टल की ज़िन्दगी न हूँ भुला पाता,
न चाहते हुए भी ख्याल है आ जाता||
Munna ki Shaadi
Everyone has some childhood memory which tend to bring smiles. For me it would be “childhood rhymes”. One which I sang the most, enjoyed the most is the, “Munna ki Shaadi”. Try singing it fast, would enjoy better. Also if you can couple it with claps, pleasure would be supreme.
Dreaming again 3: Friends For Sale
We had an unexpected break this Thursday. The lecture got cancelled (quite an anomaly!). Medical problem, I guess. It’s one hell of a problem in this side of the world, more so, if you are an outsider. I myself took time adjusting to the local weather, had to be medicated a couple of times. This takes me back a couple of years, when I snubbed the CMO, IITG. God! What a prig I was.
“…how to compute the probability…given the…we try to uncover the hidden part of the model…”
The nodding goes on as usual. Lata is sitting right in front of me or as they say I just came and sat right on the back of her. I tell you, I am losing charm in her overtime; her being married hasn’t helped much either. I think it’s finally over.
The Friends For Sale (FFS) application on Facebook is really making me crazy. When I meet someone new, I often find myself guessing how much he is worth.
“…we try to use optimality criterion to solve this problem as best as possible…”
Here comes champu and jj. Pucchu is not here yet. Today champu and I went to Prof. Ketaki. She is the instructor for our humanities course. It was about our presentation that is due.
“…model parameter is called the training sequence…”
Oops! Sir tried to peak into my writing.
I had one of the most satisfying talks with her. She sensed a bit of political sense in me from my mid-sem answer scripts. She talked about how not to lose sense of what we believe in and how we feel about it. “The whole world will try and take it away from you…but it’s so divine that it must be protected”. Her words are still ringing in my ears.
“…let N be the size of the code book. So we get the seq of vectors out of M diff. indexes”
Why is the attendance so low today? I can hardly count 15.
Where was I? Yes, champu. He is the sort of guy who keeps the group going. “Never let the fun die out”. Champu tried to peek into my diary. I gave him the finger.
“…to segment each of the word training sequence into stages and study the prob. Of the spectral vectors.”
God! I feel sleepy. It’s been 2 days now, I guess.
JJ and I finished working on a term paper recently. It dealt with DNA cryptography, such a novel idea. We have worked really hard on it. Hope it materializes.
It’s the purple suit and a brown hair clip today. Can’t I leave it already?
“…once the w-HMM’s recognition of an uttered unknown word is done using a solution to problem.. each word is modeled based upon the given test observation sequence…”
The FFS is engulfing like hell. I was just napping about it. God it’s great. I heard a remark about me sitting in this particular seat. I got the hint.
Champu sneezed, kido yawned while ld enjoyed the usual nap. FFS once again crossed my thoughts. Don’t call me crazy. If you think you don’t get addicted that easily, try it once.
Dreaming again
The music is very loud. The crowd is dancing in fun and frenzy. I can’t see much amidst the cigarette smoke, save the belly of my dance partner. What a unique belly button. Not round as all are, somewhat square as one may call it. Unique but stunning. No point hiding it, belly button is what turns me on the most. Suddenly the music has stopped. I can hear some humming. The belly button has moved away becoming round, making the belly flat and black.
Where was I? Oh! Yes, now I remember. Kumar Sirs lecture. Have I been day dreaming again, about yet another belly button? Oh my God! I have been.
“…where ar = The LPC’s of the reference and at will be the LPC of test…”
“What was all this junk”? Professor Kumar is trying his best to explain the concepts to us, but believe you me; I am getting none of it. Not that I am trying to. When I look around all I can see is 50 faces of people from Mars. I try to make a poker face, trying to save my emotions from spilling. Like I have any of them!
The guy sitting on my right, two rows ahead. I don’t know his name. He was one from the masters’ course. Why I or for that matter any of my bachelors’ colleague won’t know his name is a matter that I don’t want to rake up right now, but will take it up later.
So this guy, donning the thinnest nose I have ever seen is moving back and forth; trying to stay awake. What’s that outside the window? At a certain distance, I can see a dupatta, pink in colour. The more I try to focus, the more I can’t. The curtain in the room is trying hard to obstruct my view. No matter. I can still make up for the lost opportunity by using the power of my imagination. Alas! What am I turning into?
Enough of this monkey business. Let’s come back to the class room. Dada bond is sitting in the second row, extreme left, with his bag over his shoulder. Now that we have come to Dada bond, let me tell you why we call him bond. He is one of a kind. I remember during our first year at college when I was trying to grasp the basics of C. I still shiver to think of those days. At that time he used to hack our accounts. A lot of time his mail account was blocked by admin owing to unusual activities. That was the official reason though. Whatever, as usual he is with his bag on and jotting down each and every dot of chalk that Kumar Sir is making on the board. Why is he making all these notes in this last semester? It seems a bit unusual to me, but who cares.
Yes, I forgot to tell you, this is my last semester at college. 8th semester. 4 years have passed. I have always heard that time flows very fast. But it’s only when such moments arrive that you realize the gravity of the statement. It seems just like yesterday, when I first came to college. Now two months hence, I would be leaving all of this for a new place. But all these thoughts can wait, the lecture is important.
“…100 such values/sec will be streaming from source…we have to further do the analysis of the data by cepstral analysis…”
Sorry Pa! I can’t handle this at all. About Professor Kumar himself. He is one of the senior faculty members of CSE dept. Ah yes! I am in Computer Science Dept. This Kumar Sir is also one of a kind. His lecture may fall short of technical details but none that he speaks can be grammatically wrong. It all has to be articulated to the T. Current course, comes under his research interests. Thereby we are being subjected to two hours of agony or as they say double delight.
I am feeling bit like a goose. Coz while writing all this, I have to look once a while at the projector board and nod my head several times to imitate that I am following the lecture.
Well there is this lady in the class, the only one enrolled for this course (I really liked this line “in this course”, like the situation is any better otherwise). Let’s call her Lata. She is sitting just in front of me or better still I came and sat just behind her. She is the only one from Venus in the room.
Oh! Sir might have a hint that I am not following the lecture. Let me nod vigorously.
Back to Lata. I call her lady, coz she seems to be quite elder to us, having enrolled for a PhD. Now that I have come to her, let’s finish it off.
I first saw her in Preetam Sirs class. Preetam Sir, deserves special mention and I will come to him later in detail. I saw her and like we all here are, concentrated more on her than the lecture or the projector board. After these four years at a sex starved college, I am not shy anymore staring the opposite sex, if I see one. This went on for a week till I found out that she was married. Oh! One more of my infatuation breaks.
It’s hard for me to understand how one can continue studies even after marriage. Why deny those sweet moments of cuddling and love for such boring lectures. But I guess that’s my frustration speaking. Gaining knowledge is essence of life and can be done at any point in life. She is married but to still gaze at her like that? Maybe I see her as a ray of hope at the very end of the tunnel.
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