The types of people in NSIT

I thought I’d do a profiling of the types of girls in NSIT but then, the sample space was too thin. So here’s to the breeds of people in NSIT.

The Bhand People

The name says it all. They’re found smoking up near Teen pathhar, khokha and Nesci parking if in college. They love Goa and they love to party. Most of their conversations revolve around weed, alcohol and everything above it. The ghissus frown at them and see them as bad role models for their children. They’ve done feats and have had experiences and have lived it!

The Society People

They’re the I-can-do-its. They run the college societies, clubs, car teams, fests, newspapers, NGOs, catering facilities, cleaning services.  They can grouch about how much happier they would’ve been had they been in DU and swear by their non-tech placements is the same breath. Each one of them considers themselves better than anyone else in the college.

The Ghissus

They study. They supply the rest of the class with notes during exams. They also turn mean-bitches and don’t supply the rest of the class with notes during exams. They rarely exit their rooms when in hostel. However, they do puke their intestines out when they get drunk in their friends’ job parties. And every time they puke, they tell themselves, Oh man! I’ve lived it in college!

The Musskle boys

They worship the gym and ask their neighbors for ghals’ phone numbers and think they’re one step closer to patio-ing them after every wanna-make-frandship phone call. They roam around in groups and tight fitting shirts murmuring ‘saali slut’ around college. They proudly wear scar marks on their face, and have atleast two battle stories to their credit. They have gangs and oh boy! Gangwars are serious business!

The pseudo intellectuals

They swear by the economic times in their rooms and brains in their skulls. Nothing less than president Obama and Ahmedinejad interests them on the mess table, bad food, eh what? They were found shouting during Moksha and Inno GDs earlier, now they like to dress up and MUN!

The Good for Nothings

Now I’m no judge but when after 4years of college you see a guy during the placements for the first time, it IS kind of freaky! They find corners to seclude themselves during conversations and classes. They’re probably the best listeners, mass bunk destroyers and good for nothings!

Disclaimer: Meri bhains ko lathi mat maarna, this list is just for a few giggles!

Jummey ke din kiya chumme ka wada! :* :*

There’re times when every man is in his petite woman mode.

Mujhe sachche pyaar ki talaash hai.

Gulia, dude, you don’t understand what true love is all about?

Engineers are more prone to this syndrome. (A sex ratio of 120:1 in DCE Mechanical, what a fuckin joke on humanity mylord?) As I was discussing with Amay’Zing the other day, what we desire the most is always what we don’t have. He has a job that’d pay him 10lacs a month ($_$) and I have a college where every day’s a party!

So this (really)nice chap was truly, madly and deeply in love with some girl, the kind of love that makes you do crazy things, makes your knees go weak and turns you into a disgusting derp! He was a man with a mission. Mission-my-belle. He takes the 2.5hours metro ride to rallies up if front of her, and says the three ‘golden words.’

What a fuckin joke? I cried. I was ganged up on, beaten to death, and brought to life just to be beaten more by nothing but words, sermons of love, life and purity. The motion of the house was concluded and passed, I’m a stone-soul, everyone shouted Aye! in MUNna style.

I recovered feeling proud and powerful. Its always better to be a stone-soul than be pathetic. I assumed I’m the only man alive with any real perspective on the topic of love. I decided not to share the real secret with anyone for god has entrusted me with the hidden code.  I went on the way I wanted to.

A year later, some other woman was the apple of (really) nice chap’s eye. They frolicked around Malviya Nagar Market as I looked away puking and gasping for breath at the same time. One fine day, he summoned me, I looked up like a puppy, he had twinkle of a victorious Gladiator in his eyes. He had won.

So how did it happen? I asked the customary question. He started off “I told her I love her, she told me so does she, I asked her if she’s a virgin, she said yes of course.”

I shouted WHAT as loud as I could. Suddenly the pictures of all those feminist women around me Shiva, Usha, random activist started haunting me. I told him, how it’s no big deal even if she’s not, and he had no business asking that alongwith the proposal.

I was given a sermon on importance of purity, chastity and Indian culture, and how romantic his and their first kiss was, next to the Hauz Khas Lake and the wind and the beer and all that jazz. Awwww!

What a loser, I thought on my way back home. I logged on to facebook and saw Tanuj’s Mwah-ing and oleey-ing with the love of his life splashed everywhere like Dark Pink Holi colors and a terrifying thought stuck me. What if I really did not have God’s penultimate secret?

My first kiss was after all in the scorching Delhi summer afternoon, in a Delhi auto rickshaw, and we were just making better when the troll interrupted and asked “Chirag Dilli se nikalun ya Khel Gaon se?” That was the end of it friends. Sobs!

Daane Daane Pe

So it was final year, examinations, boring subject, excellent intoxication, excellent mood, frustration!! Everything was right. And then this poem came out!!

Jo kuchh tere naam likha hai, likha daane daane mein,
Woh to tujhe milega, chaahe rakha ho tehkhaane mein.

Tune ik fariyaad lagayi, usne hafta bhar maanga,
Kitne hafte aur lagenge, uss hafte ke aane mein?

Ek diye ki zidd hai aandhi mein bhi jalte rehne ki,
Hamdardi ho toh, hissedaari karo bachane mein.

Aansu aaye dekh toot-ta chhappar, deewaron dar ko,
Aakhir ghar tha barso lag jate hain ussey banane mein.

Kuchh to socho roz wahin kyo jaakar marna hota hai,
Shaam ki kuchh to saazish hogi, suraj tumhe dubaane mein.

Jaakar toofano se kehdo, jitna chaahe tez chalein,
Kashti ko abhyaas ho gaya lehron se lad jaane mein.

Koun muhabbat ke chakkar mein pade, buri shai hai yaaron,
Mere dost pade the, maare gaye bade paimane mein!