WANDeRiNG MiND!

Just a month after getting into my current job about 6 months back, I was sent to the Pune office to be a part of a new project. Though I wasn’t very willing to travel as the project required me to be there for at least for 6 months, my department head agreed to bring me back in 2 months, finding someone to replace me there. And so I went. My second visit to Pune.

The last time I went, I was in a totally different field of work and the visit was all about job hunting. Those days I had visited all the major industrial area in and around Pune. But this time it was different. I was in a good job, my travel and accommodation was totally taken care of by the company, and I had all the time to myself. Because I was away from my home PC and all stuff mine. For 9 weeks.

Work was extremely boring. However I met a whole lot of new people, made quite a few friends, had quite a few good times, and most importantly, it helped me get myself out of a lot of bad thoughts that’s been running in my head and also in getting out of a bit tight situation I was in for a while.

My office was located 23KM from the city and transportation was bad out there. Weekends I used to take the rare bus or an “over-charging” auto to the city to my cousin’s place and spend time with him and sometimes with his gang of friends. Good guys, all of them. No great guys in fact. I knew each and every one of them had problems, some of them major, but when they were all together it was just fun and laughter. Really helped me clear my mind.

Pune, unlike what I expected is surrounded by the ghats and since I was there during the mansoon and it was drizzling almost the entire day on most days, the place was wet, green and beautiful. So as a part of my agenda to make life more interesting, I decided to try and visit as many good places around the city as I can. With my cousin and his friends. This is about one such trip.

On 29th July 2007, I joined my cousin and a few of his colleagues on their trip to Koregad, a fort in Lonavala and close to the prestigious Amby Valley project from Sahara Group. Koregad is located in the Ambavne village (which I assume is why the Sahara project is so named) which is about 24km from Lonavla.

We left from Pune city in the early hours in a rented Chevrolet Tavera, which comfortably accommodated us, a team of 6. 3 guys and 3 girls. On the road to Lonavla, the scenic beauty that surrounded us just took our breaths away and we couldn’t stop ourselves from pulling over at a few spots and getting shutter-happy, especially since one of the girls turned out to be the “happiest-to-be-in-the-frame” types that I had ever met

We reached the location by around 10AM, and the view was awesome. While most forts are connected by ridges or columns to other hills, Koregad stands alone in majestic solitude. From the base, a broad well trodden trail leads to the foot of the hill. The route is an easy one and it leads to a flight of stone steps to the top. It started raining as we climbed up which made the whole thing more fun, apart from making the whole valley look breath-takingly beautiful.

By the time we reached the top, and into the fort, the rain had stopped but the fog remained, limiting our views. From where we stood, we could hardly make out how far the fort extended. But soon the fog thinned out a little and we were stunned to see lush green land all around us, with 2 big ponds filled with water right in front of us and an old temple structure near by.

After spending a good half an hour splashing around like happy kids in the chilling water (the rain and fog and the cold wind were freezing) we had a quick snack and decided to walk around the fort. We all walked to the ledge we saw across the pond. Once we reached the ledge and climbed up, we once again lost our breath. The view was amazing. We were on a high cliff and it was a straight drop down from where we stood. It took us quite sometime to take in all the beauty of the surrounding valley. It was heavenly. We could also see the Amby Valley, including the private airstrip and am sure we all wished we were rich enough to own at least a small villa in the Valley.

We walked all around the fort for the next hour or so, taking a lot of photographs, before deciding to go back downhill. It started raining again and by the time we reached the car we were as wet as we were in the pond.

We thought of going to a dam nearby, but the huge crowd and the heavy rain there made us decide to carry on instead. But we did walk around in the pouring rain, shivering in the cold wind and having some “vada paav” and a hot cup of tea to warm us up before we left from there.

Our next stop was the Karla Caves which I expected to be something in the lines of the Ajanta caves that I had visited a long long time ago. Well, it was similar in some way, though not as fantastic (not even close), and mostly disappointing due to the bad maintenance.

It’s a 20-minute climb from the car park to the cave, and it was still raining pretty bad. But up we went though with lesser energy this time. We had to buy the entrance tickets at the gate from a small cabin. This of course added to my disappointment later as generally people expect the place to be maintained well, when they charge you for visiting. A tall waterfall greeted us as we entered the gates, thanks to the rains that the region has been getting for a while. The area was fenced and so getting to the falls was ruled out.

They say Karla Cave is the largest Hinayana Buddhist Chaitya in India and was completed in 80 BC. We didn’t spend much time out there, as the cave also had a temple on one side and the number of people waiting to get in through the maze of steel pipes was discouraging after the tiring day we had. However we did check out the chaitya. They say the chaitya is around 40m long and 15m high, carved by monks and artisans from the living rock in imitation of more familiar wooden architecture. A semi-circular window that looks like a rising sun, filters light in towards the cave’s representation of Buddha, a stupa protected by a carved wooden umbrella. There are 37 pillars forming the aisles in the “hall” and they are each topped with teak beams said to be original. carved elephant heads can be seen on the sides of the vestibule. They were damaged and it seems they once had ivory tusks.

[Note: A stambha (pillar) topped by four back-to-back lions, an image usually associated with the great emperor Ashoka, stands outside the cave and is believed to be older than the cave itself. The Buddha images near the entrance are said to be added during the later Mahayana Buddhist period.]

We then squeezed in through the narrow stairway cut into the rock, to go to one of the chambers in the “first floor”. It looked like one of the bedrooms in a modern apartment, complete with balcony. But of course, this was just rock with a neatly cut doorway and window. However a strong stench of urine filled the air which made us wonder if the place was turned into a urinal by the public. We left soon, stumbling down the dark stairway again.

The rain had taken a break and down we all went, back to the parking lot. Soon we were headed back home, tired from all the walking/climbing and soaked to our bones by the hours of rain that we had beein doing it in.

I was back in my room by 7 in the evening, still wet from the rain and real tired, but with a freshness inside thanks to the lush green beauty and the chilling rains of Koregad. It was a real long time since I felt so in life.

[A note: I am thankful to my cousin and his colleagues for letting me be a part of the trip, as it's one of the best days I have had. There is no place I love to be in more, than lush green valleys, mountains, lakes/sea. And the fog and rain to add to it all? Was heaven.]

ESP (Extra Sensory Perception) is most commonly called the “sixth sense”. It is sensory information that an individual receives which comes beyond the ordinary five senses sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. It can provide the individual with information of the present, past, and future; as it seems to originate in a second, or alternate reality.

There are theories concerning individuals who possess ESP and how they acquired this ability. One theory holds that some people such as seers, prophets and diviners were bore with the gift, which was inherited by their relatives. Another theory hold that it is a primordial sense which has decreased in populations as their cultures advanced. Still another theory claims ESP is a supersense, which evolves in the nervous system.

That was just for your reading pleasure. Am in no way trying to claim my 15 minutes of fame by saying I have a sixth sense and I can see the future. No. But like I mentioned in my previous post, I believe that the ESP, or sixth sense, is a part of everyone whether they like it or not. It is a normal part of the human psyche and not abnormal or reserved for special or gifted persons. Psychical research does support the theory that everyone is born with ESP capability, though some may possess more than others. Most people have experienced at least one ESP experience in their lives. Maybe many of us just don’t give it a second thought, or just dismiss it saying, “I think I have had a deja vu of this!”

Think about it. Anyway, here I continue to share a few more of my past experiences, ‘coz they have always made me wonder.

From 1993, fast forward to 1997-98, when I was undergoing industrial training in Coimbatore (Tamil Nadu, India). I used to stay with my friend in a room provided by the company we worked for, and our lives used to be real boring unless we go out and watch a movie or spend time with other friends during the weekends. Every weekend we made it a point to meet another friend of ours who used to stay with his dad in another part of the city, and then all 3 of us together watch a movie. If that guy’s dad went visiting the rest of the family back in their native land, we used to stay over for the weekend and all three of us used to have some fun.

One day, it so happened that we were totally bored and found ourselves with no options but to go stay at out friend’s place, even if his dad’s there. We took the bus and went all the way, and after getting down, we were walking to his place just talking. I suddenly felt something was weird and not right. I felt we won’t be able to stay over at this guy’s place and will have to go back to our room. I turned to my friend and told him so. He casually asked what could happen that we cannot be staying over there. And my reply was, “What if his mom and sisters have come from native?” My friend was cool and he told me not to worry ‘coz that situation was very unlikely. Why would all of them come here all of a sudden anyway?

So we walked and reached our friend’s house. We went up and knocked at the door. And what do we see? The door is opened by his mother!! I was so dumbfounded that I was speechless for a while. When I got back to my senses I realized that the whole family was present there having decided to enjoy the weekend together. Well, we just spent some time there with them and later went back to our room for the night..

There were two other incidents of “having a hunch”, where I was meant to take a decision. In one I lost while the other saved our lives maybe.

The first one was when I had to leave my sick dog – a bitch (in the proper sense of the word) alone at home and go somewhere for a day. My mom and sister were with my grandparents and my dad and I were to join them. But my little pet, which I loved so much, was sick and she wasn’t moving around much. I was worried about her and told my mom so when she called. But mom said it’s alright and there’s no need to worry as we would be back home the very next day, just a matter of few hours and she will be fine. I couldn’t be sure though and thought of taking her along with us instead of leaving her all alone with no care, but later decided not to, ‘coz I didn’t want her to suffer due to the travel. So I left her with a cozy little mattress and food and water, hoping she would be fine, and went to my granny’s place. But all the while I was really worried about something.

Next morning we left from there and on our way back just dropped in at my aunt’s place. A few minutes after we reached there, my aunt’s phone rang and the call was for my mom. I was suddenly gripped by this terrible fear something I didn’t know. My mom took the phone and as she spoke I saw her face change too. Yup, our little bitch was dead, left all alone when she needed us most. I knew it was gonna happen, but I ignored it. And I had never been as sad in my life as I was that day.

The other one was when I had to go book tickets for my cousins and myself when 4 of us planned to go to our native together from Bangalore. At the ticket counter, the guy gave me tickets on the driver’s side of the bus, somewhere in the rear half. That’s never a safe place to sit when you travel long distance, coz buses and trucks from the opposite direction will be just ripping past you. One mistake and you could be the victim of a freak accident. I lost a friend in one such. He died coz he was in the wrong seat, and a truck from the opposite side suddenly lost control and hit the bus, exactly where he was seated. Ever since, I haven’t really enjoyed traveling sitting on the driver’s side of the bus. But sometimes, I don’t bother much and just go with what’s available.

When the guy at the counter offered me those seats, I didn’t wanna ask him for a change and thought will settle for it, coz that was a festive season and getting tickets itself was a problem. But then something told me I should ask for seats on the other side. Even though I hesitated at first, I went ahead and asked him. He checked and finally I was able to get seats for all of us on the other side of the bus. It so happened that the bus we took met with an accident just about an hour before it reached the destination. Another bus coming from the opposite direction slammed into our bus right in the rear half of it, on the driver’s side of course. It was a bad hit and a major part of our bus was ripped off. Many were injured, including us, though we escaped with minor ones. But a mother and daughter lost their lives in the accident. I later realized that they had occupied the seats somewhere where the guy had originally offered us.

Our luck was somebody else’s bad luck.

[to be concluded in next...]

Everyone is aware of his or her five basic senses, seeing, feeling, smelling, hearing and tasting. What everyone is not so well aware of is their sixth sense, that sense of otherworldliness, a connection to something more and greater than their physical senses are able to perceive. This is the entrance to the world of the unseen encounter, the unheard communication, the unfelt touch of someone from the spiritual world trying to make a connection with someone in the physical body.

Everybody’s heard of the sixth sense and stories surrounding it. So many movies have been made with the theme like the boy who saw dead people as in M. Night Shyamalan’s movie The Sixth Sense, or the man who saw the tomorrow as in Iyyer, The Great, an old Malayalam movie. But have you ever had a hunch, an instinct or an intuition? Some experts claim that such hunches might actually foretell the future. Others aren’t so sure. Here’s a story I found on the net.

Alex was cleaning his double-action, six-shot revolver in preparation for a bunting trip later in the month. In this pistol, when the trigger is pulled the hammer is cocked, the cylinder revolves, and the hammer falls on the next chamber, all in one smooth motion. For safety’s sake, Alex normally kept five bullets in the revolver, with the hammer resting on the sixth, empty chamber.Before cleaning the gun, he later said, he removed the five bullets and set them aside. When finished cleaning, he began to put the bullets back in the cylinder. When he arrived at the fifth and final bullet, he suddenly got a distinct sense of dread. It had something to do with that bullet.

Alex was bothered about the odd feeling because nothing like it had ever happened to him before. He decided to trust his gut, so he put the bullet aside and positioned the pistol’s hammer as usual over the sixth chamber. The chamber next to it, which normally held the fifth bullet, was now also empty.

Two weeks later, Alex was at a hunting lodge with his fiancee and her parents. That evening, unexpectedly, a violent argument broke out between the parents. Alex tried to calm them down, but the father, in an insane rage, grabbed Alex’s gun, which had been in a drawer, and pointed it at his wife.

Alex tried to intervene by jumping between the gun and the woman, but he was too late — the trigger was already being pulled. For a horrifying split second, Alex know that he was about to get shot at point-blank range. But instead of a sudden, gruesome death, the pistol went “click.” The cylinder had revolved to an empty chamber — the very chamber that would have contained the fifth bullet if Alex had not set it aside two weeks earlier.

Had Alex actually predicted the future, or was this just an extraordinary coincidence? Does a sixth sense really exist? It’s been a hot topic with researchers for a long time.

Am not sure about it either, but I did have these strange hunches and intuitions in the past, and not just once, but quite a number of times that I remember at least. Let me share a few here.

Long back, when I was a kid, I remember telling my sister one day that she’s gonna fall down and hurt herself that day. She didn’t take it seriously, but it turned out that she did actually fall and hurt herself that same day. I don’t know what impact that really had on my sister back then but she thought that I did “predict” the future. But that wasn’t any sixth sense. It was just a coincidence. But later, years later, in October 1993 if I remember right, something happened which really shook me.

Back then I was in senior secondary school, and it was a crucial year for me. But more than the textbooks and classes, I was interested in music, movies and the stars. With my pocket money, I used to buy many magazines and books that otherwise my parents wouldn’t let me have ‘coz they were worried about me losing my grip on the studies. These magazines I used to keep them in my room, inside a shelf, hidden amongst the many books and papers. Then one day we all went on a 4-day trip from the school. We had all the fun and were back to our hometown by about dinnertime on the 4th day. As I said bye to my friends and walked home, I suddenly had this weird feeling inside. It was a kind of intuition, that my mother has taken my absence as a right time to clean up my room and shelf and that she had found out my little secret, the magazines hidden under the books. I was really scared that moment. It wasn’t a big deal actually. It wasn’t like they were some “forbidden” books. But I was still scared. I reached home and my parents were having dinner. I spoke to them for a few minutes and went to my room to freshen up. The first thing I noticed was, my room was indeed cleaned. I rushed to shelf and checked inside. Yup, my moms actually cleaned it up, and guess what; all those magazines and books that I had kept from them were missing!

Of course I had to answer a lot of questions to my mom after that but what really shook me was the fact that I actually “saw” it coming. I should have dismissed it as just a coincidence, but I couldn’t. I mean, I was coming back from 4 days of fun with friends and there was no reason why I should have suddenly been worrying about my mom finding out my secret which, to begin with, wasn’t as serious as having killed somebody and buried the body in my backyard.

I couldn’t dismiss it that easily. I sat and let my mind wander, as usual. I tried to remember if something similar had happened any time earlier in my life. The only incident I could remember, other than my sister hurting herself, was something that took place a few years earlier when celebrating a festival with all my cousins. That day we were all having a great time bursting crackers and enjoying fireworks. In between, one of my cousins was trying to light a flowerpot – that conical stuff which shoots up fire like a fountain. It wouldn’t light up even after repeated tries. So she left it. After sometime I saw her going to give it another try. I suddenly sensed danger there and told her not to do it. I told her it’s gonna explode instead of just shooting the fire up. She just gave me a blunt look, which ideally would have translated to “Such a coward”. I let her go. She went ahead with her intentions, sat down and tried to get it work. And then – the flowerpot exploded. It wasn’t a big one, and so it sounded just like a small cracker. My cousin sat there, stunned. Everybody ran to her and asked her if she was hurt. She said no, she was just fine. Minutes later, she was missing and I found her sitting in her room, with tears in her eyes. She had indeed burnt her hand.

Could that have been a hunch that told the future, or just another coincidence? I had dismissed it back then as a case of me being more sensible than my cousin but now it seemed like it was kind of a sixth sense that was telling me what’s gonna happen. I discussed these incidents with a friend of mine and he too had some stories to tell me. So I started believing that the sixth sense or whatever that is, is a part of everyone whether or not they like it. It is a normal part of the human psyche and not abnormal or reserved for special or gifted persons.

[to be continued...]

I haven’t posted in a while. I was a li’l too busy at work. And then, I got some time. But I didn’t know what to post about. So I’ve been going through many more blogs on the net. A lot of them had shared their memories and experiences with the netizens and reading them took me down my own memory lane, by a few miles at least. And I wondered. Did I have fun? Did I miss a lot in life? People talk about their college lives with so much excitement, that sometimes I feel bad that I never got to live that life.Yup! I never experienced the college-life as we all know it. ‘Cause after the school days, I ended up in an institute where the word “fun” (as you and I know it) topped the DO-NOT list. When most of my old friends were enjoying the newfound fun in college life, I spent 3 years getting up at 5:30 in the morning and rushing to catch the bus at 6:40am, so that I reach my college by 7:30am, and change into the blue working dress and be in the “section” (oh, we didn’t have classrooms ’cause we were “precision engineers” in the making, and so it was purely practical… surrounded by dozens of machineries and scores of tools and tones of raw and finished materials!) by 7:48am. It was followed by a hectic day, slogging our asses off, literally. The lessons weren’t in books and it was never something to be done sitting down comfortably. It was really physical and tiring. Hard labor, you could say. The day ended at 5:38pm (Yeah! That’s no exaggeration. Our working hours used to be from 7:48am-5:38pm), and then it’s time to run to the rest room and freshen up and rush to catch the next bus home. Reaching home at 7:30pm, tired and sleepy but no choice, it’s time to take a shower, have something to eat and sit with the assignments. Finish it off by 1am, taking enough care to do it right and neat, ’cause any crap work, we would end up with a complete re-do command, and o’course that’s on top of the next days load of assignments.

So you see, college life for me was different. The fun for us there was the tiring works. We used to crib a lot those days, but believe me, after the graduation, we had trouble sitting idle. All of us were looking for jobs that would keep us busy the whole day. But that doesn’t mean we were just working and did nothing else in the college. We had our yearly Xmas celebrations, which used to be the biggest show in that part of the world; we had village camps, tours, cultural nights, sports and games. We had our 45 days of “implant training” when we were sent to a production unit of our college, some 500KM away. And the guy in charge of us was younger to us and so we had our share of fun, which was in fact a huge share. Umm, I think we did have it after all, in the right dosage maybe.

After the third year, we were sent to different companies to work or rather get our “industrial training”. I ended up in a new-to-me city in another state. Coimbatore. The company I got into was sad. It was a horrible place to be. We (that’s two of us) used to do our work from 8:30am to 5pm, but that was a lot for us though (compared to our college that is) ’cause of the nature of the work. But luckily we were our own bosses there, and in fact boss to a few others too. But life used to be boring, our only entertainment used to be a movie every weekend, or going and staying with our friends who were in the other parts of the same city. Budget was limited, which explains why life was boring, I guess. We had to fight with our manager every month to get our pay, which, after a quick lesson in “how to swear in English”, he used to give us in installments, with a smile. With that li’l cash we used to have our li’l share of fun.

The company was a component supplier for many engineering biggies and the production department used to be “up and running” through the day and night. Our department was to design and manufacture new tools and moulds and also to make sure the production runs smooth. So, more often than not, we used to get emergency calls from the production department in the middle of the nights. This became too much to take and we had to do something about it. And, we did too. We used to lock the door from outside and get back in through the back door… and the emergency calls used to fall on deaf years  We used to wake up, irritated, but then the knocking stops when they see the door is locked and we go back to sleep with a naughty smile

We used to go out every evening just to kill time and walk around and get back to the room after dinner. Sometime we went for late night movies and got back by 2 or 3AM, walking some 5-6KM across the city. Our gates used to be locked and the watchman used to be on his rounds with a Great Dane assisting him. We used to wait for them to go round the corner before jumping the huge wall and sneaking into out room. The watchman seeing us was ok with us, and we never worried about the local police station which was just a stones throw away either. But the dog! Man, he was huge!! The scariest creature I’ve ever confronted.

Then one fine day… communal riots broke out. Bomb blasts killed many later on. We were there through it all. But it never affected our lives in any other way than just multiplying our boredom. The cinemas were closed. No movies for many weeks. Our only entertainment was shut down. Finally, a couple of weeks later, one cinema opened up and was showing Air Force One, the dumb movie starring Harrison Ford. But the public were not ready to go enjoy their lives after the serial blasts, and to add to their scare was a van loaded with explosives which was still ticking. The explosive experts were trying to defuse it. Well, that was in another part of the city. So we went for the movie. I still remember how we entered the hall and saw ourselves being a part of just a handful of the “daring ones”. We watched the movie expecting a bomb to go off under our seat anytime! We actually risked our lives for a dumb movie that showed the heroic tactics of an American President!! Was it worth it? I don’t know. But it was fun.

I had some good habits back then too. Because our fun was limited, we had more time to ourselves in that one year. So I spent the time reading a lot of magazines, novels, classics and even tech manuals. I even read a book that taught me how to fly a helicopter! I just had to get my hands on a machine to try it practically. Oh well, ok, but I could have tried it at least. And then I used to write a lot of letters. I was in touch with a lot of my old friends that way. I also kept a diary, which I used to fill in everyday… in detail. Apart from all that, I learned how to manage my budget. With the measly amount I got every month (trainees, u see), I used to buy a music cassette and a big book to read every month, buy every magazine I need, travel home once a month, watch at least one movie every week and still have enough for the daily chores.

We hated the life back then, and used to count the days, waiting for the training period to get over. However today, so many years later, when I look back, it makes me smile! And I have to admit that it never occurred to me back then that our sufferings would be pleasant memories someday!!

Life. It’s funny sometimes.

Night outs… Midnight teas… B’day bumps… Old torn jeans… Late night walks… Long chats… Pinches and slaps… Crushes on pals… Those fights on ego… Getting kicked out of class… Struggle for marks… Writing on desks… Fight with teachers… Tears for love… Heaven…!

This is an SMS I got from an old buddy of mine, about our school / college life. Sweet, eh? Yeah, I know. Just reading it got me nostalgic. Isn’t it funny that as kids we were in a hurry to grow up and when we are grown up, we wish we were still kids, wishing the school days had never ended?

I was never a smart kid in school. I was always the calm and quiet type. Well, not all that quiet, actually. I was rather the silent and deadly kind, though the deadly part is a well hidden trait. I was studious, or maybe I used to be studious, for a while, till they started teaching that water is not just something you drink or play or take bath in, but it’s a combo of gases, that geniuses call it H2O and it has a biography of its own!!

Yeah, Chemistry.

I could never understand those beehive shaped sketches they used to draw on the board. Molecular structure or something. Anyways, I used to top in class amongst the boys, was a bit artistic, which means I could draw pretty well in the science records. The school used to send me for the competitions in the earlier days but I never won a prize so I guess they got fed up and left me alone later. I used to enjoy quizzing and did win quite a few prizes in-house. But again, they sent another two guys and me for an inter-school competition and we returned with the consolation prize. We came out fourth. Oh, and there were only four teams in all. My teachers also thought I had a very good handwriting, which I think I successfully discarded somewhere on the way.

Blame it on the keyboard.

Whatever or however it was, we all still had loads of fun those days. After the early morning blues, it was always fun…

It was fun waiting for the bell to ring for recess so that we could go run and play in the courtyard, the teachers and even the Principal coming after us trying to catch us ’cause recess is, supposedly, not to play and it’s a crime to do it;

It was fun waiting for the teacher once the recess is over, and hoping that she is absent so we could resort to crimes of a different order;

It was fun praying to every God we could think of, that the teacher doesn’t ask for the assignment as we totally forgot about it… ’cause that teacher used to carry a cane;

It was fun breaking the rules by wearing sneakers to school when it’s banned; or removing the tie and stuffing it in the pockets as soon as the teacher leaves the room;

It was fun talking of a peek we got at the movie last night that had a very “steamy scene”, which o’coz wasn’t more than just a brief kissing;

It was fun sitting in a corner of the library and giggling over some “funny” questions asked by some “troubled” lady in the “Ask your Doc” column of the women’s magazine; yeah! We did that too!

It was fun helping a friend realize he’s in love with that girl who blushes on seeing him; and then wondering how mature they are when they get together and start talking about their future life, together… when o’coz the guy hasn’t even got his moustache growing;

It was fun having a crush on someone and our good friends immediately taking control of the situation and returning our favor by making us a pair and gossiping…

It was fun laughing our guts out at pranks played successfully on the easy targets;

It was fun irritating our teachers between the classes;

It was fun getting kicked out of the class for not doing the home-work;

It was fun going on picnics or tours in a group, a time when teachers turned friends;

It was fun when the teachers became our friends;

It was fun going to the school on our cycles and showing off as if we were riding Harleys;

It was fun breaking our heads for the exams and discussing the question paper with friends after it to estimate the percentage, which o’coz later became estimating the chances of passing the exam;

It was fun scribbling our favorite quotes on the desk; I even had a sketch of Michael Jackson on it. (Yeah! He used to be my idol once upon a time.)

It was fun fighting with friends for stupid reasons and then getting back together, with a dumb smile on our faces;

It was fun… … … …

This could go on and on…

’cause every small thing used to be so much fun back then.
Our worries were of a much lesser magnitude.
Sigh!