Once upon a time in Manipal

With days in Manipal counted, gang had given up on studies and moved on to pepping up life with joys the mind said, life will never give time for. Knock on the door meant it was 5 minutes before the mess would close for breakfast and Zubi. The first one to wake up, his motivations for getting out of the bed on time were never a suspect. Bloody OCD, would not let him lose his habits, though a few more days and the gang would have made sure he went back without his post its, miniature time tables and the arduous dress code. Breakfast set the tone for the day, mind begging for sleep only to be overruled by heart for the heart yearned for never-ending yakking sessions with the gang. Leg pulling, low life comments on mess food and lukewarm tea paved for the initiation of JIT. Beating the Prof. to class was the ultimate show off. For the winner could take pride in having wasted more time than the ones who came long before the Prof. and look down upon the late comers. Classes were an excuse for flirting, catching up on reading, crosswords and good old hang man. To spice them up abrupt questions to the poor soul making the presentation, for if you can not convince them confuse them. Lunch always proved as the single biggest sources of haggling and discord, for the sane could not swallow the mess food and the pocket wouldn’t allow for any other joint. Sanity rarely lost on issues of survival and the Andhra mess, Bihari mess and every eating joint worth its salt was blessed by the gang’s visits. Afternoon naps were the stimulants the mind needed to recharge batteries long nights needed. A late evening class was the perfect reason to get of the bed and get ready for the day. 70 minutes of indoor fun over, the gang planned its evening and would set out for the ride, stroll or yakking sessions, whichever matched its mood. The late evening colors of Manipal would fills ones heart with longing for the one on the other coast. As Arun drifted away with Lako and Zubi rode out to end point, a 2 mile run at the cricket ground helped clear the mist an emotional and a troubled heart dropped on an unsettled mind. Counting stars while lying on the pitch was a favorite pass time ended only by a clod shower a sweat soaked body demanded. The gang would have assembled and factionalism would be at forefront, the messwallahas versus food lovers. More often than not food lovers prevailed. With long and elaborate dinner out of the way, the gang was all set for coffee at KMC greens. The hostel hours having forced the gang back, the lucky one got the hammock and the gang started dumb charades, fun and frolic ended only by heavy eye lids and phone calls from the girls hostel.