बऱ्याच दिवसानी शाळेत जाऊन आलो. आमच्या कॅन्टीनचा फेमस वडा-पाव बऱ्याच दिवसात चाखला नव्हता, म्हणून त्या निमित्ताने क्लासेसहून परतताना शाळेत एक रपटा मारून यावं, आणि मस्त दोन-तीन वडापाव हाणावे, असा बेत होता. मात्र शाळेत जायचं खरं कारण वेगळंच होतं. मला बघायचं होती ती शाळेची नवी इमारत. मी दहावीत असताना या इमारतीचं बांधकाम सुरू झालं, ते अजून पूर्ण तर नाही झालं, पण विद्यार्थ्यांना या नव्या इमारतीत बसवायची सोय करण्यात आलेली आहे, असं ऐकलं होतं.
शाळेतल्या लायब्ररीमध्ये गेलो, दप्तर ठेवलं एका खुर्चीवर, आणि निघालो, शाळेच्या इमारतीला बघायला. खूपच सुंदर असं बांधकाम चालू आहे! आणि जेवढं झालंय ते इतकं "रिच' दिसतंय, बांधकामाचा कर्णकर्कश्श आवाज जरी मोठ्याने येत असला, तरी तिथून पाय निघेना. बघतच राहावंसं वाटत होतं. एकएका नव्या वर्गातून जाताना, शाळेतल्या सगळ्या आठवणी ताज्या होत गेल्या, आणि पुन्हा एकदा शाळेत जावंसं वाटायला लागलं.
आमच्या शाळेचा हा ब्लॉग : -
विद्या प्रसारक मंडळाचे विद्यामंदिर, दहिसर
मंगळवार, ८ जून, २०१०
गुरुवार, ११ मार्च, २०१०
Recovering from typhoid
A new and a different experience I had last month. I had had typhoid since 14th of Feb '10, since The Valentine's Day. I am now recovering from it, in March. It is almost a month. Although new and different, I cannot call it a nice experience exactly.
I was allowed, or better say, forced to sleep all day. I woke up only to eat and to excrete.
The first week of typhoid went horrible. The doctor predicted it to be typhoid on the fifth day, and it was confirmed on the sixth day. But before that, for four days I had been thinking it as just a simple fever, which was supposed to pass away with time. So I would keep reading Pride & Prejudice, the book, for hours and hours of the with its diminished size of the font. And my head would ache a little after I woke up from my sleep. I have also watched many movies in those four days' time, movies I have already watched a hundred times before on the DVD player in the house. I never understood that the headache was the effect of all this stuff I did addictively.
The nights of these four days and the next two were like a terrible nightmare to me. All the day I would sleep, so naturally in the night I wouldn't be tired enough to go deep in sleep like the other members of my family. I have no idea f the reason, but I would have to and pee at any time of the night, like 2O'clock, 3.30AM, any time. At nights my fever would rise to the highest of all, 103 Fahrenheits. That is between 40 and 410C. At this temperature, I would not feel any cold, but burning hot. I would cast off my blankets and think that since I am not feeling cold anymore, my fever must be coming down. And the sweating will probably start in a few moments' time. However, after I would check my fever for it to have come down to 98 Fahrenheits or something near to that, I would receive a shock when the thermometer showed 103 Fahrenheits. I would then remember the stages of malaria which I had memorized for the Maharashtra Board Examination. Everything suited in. In the 'Cold Stage', patient feels terrible cold and desires to be covered by blankets. The stage lasts for 15 minutes to an hour may be. In 'Sweating Stage', fever comes down with profuse sweating and there is intense headache. It happened to me in daytime. And lastly, Hot Stage. In this stage, body temperature rises to 410C and patient cast off his clothes. 410C means 104 Fahrenheits and temperature would be 103 Fahrenheits. The only relieving thing was that the book stated that the hot stage would last 2 to 4 or 6 hours. But mine lasted for 15 minutes to half an hour. Then the fever would come down to 102 or 101. But not less than that. First week went off like that. On the fifth day, the doctor visited me at home as I wasn't able to even climb down the staircase of my building. He suggested a blood test, and nodding his head to my father, said that the test will turn out to typhoid. Although they had said they will come on the same day, a man from that hospital or whatever you call them who do all this test, came on the next morning when I was resting after the breakfast. By that time I had become so weak that I needed support of somebody to walk, or to stand somewhere for sometime. It was always probable that my head would spin if I go to the toilet after sleeping for even half an hour minimum. The first time my head spun was on the third or fourth night perhaps, at around 3 O'clock. I was peeing when suddenly I felt my eyes losing their light, and after a few moments, my father found me, fallen in toilet with my eyes closed. I was conscious, but I had lost the energy to open my eyes and face the light. How could I then dare to lift myself up, in case I fell again? I remained there only without moving a muscle. Fortunately, I hadn't shut the door from the inside. Otherwise I would have remained there only for hours. My father must have heard the sound of me falling, and came hurriedly. He opened the door ajar, only to find me in that condition. He then held my hands, and I stood up with his support. When I got out and was standing with my father's support, I tried to open my eyes only to find that I could see nothing, and so after declaring it, the thought that I had become blind made me lose my balance. My father tightened his grip on me and made me sit somewhere, which felt like a bed. I let my body fall upon it, when my mother shouted, "You have fallen in the toilet. Don't you just sleep there. First wash yourself and change clothes." But my father who knew by then that it was impossible for me to lift myself up without anybody's support, made her quiet and I went on sleeping. From that night on, each time I went to toilet, somebody stood outside, in case I fall again. And I did lose my balance when that man who came to take my blood also demanded for my urine in some small plastic bottle he gave. Luckily I called my father in time and he caught me. I did not go blind again, but everything became blur, so I hurriedly closed my eyes when my father held me. The man was told that he would receive the bottle afterwards, and so he did. By the time the report came in the evening, I had made publicity of me having typhoid amongst my friends. I called and sent SMS to so many friends that my father received a bill of Rs.561 of my cell phone, for the month of February.
I was hoping and hoping it to be typhoid rather than malaria. Not because I was scared of the symptoms of malaria, but because my tutors had also got the wind by then, that I had typhoid. And I wasn't in a mood of changing the name of the disease and doing the publicity again. Luckily, it turned out to be typhoid only, and no sign of malaria did the report show. Otherwise, my father would have received a bill of Rs. 1000 instead what he actually did.
From the next day on, I had gained some confidence, that my recovery from typhoid is going to be very soon. This second week of typhoid was comparatively very nicer than the first. In the first week, my fever had a range of 101 to 103. Not more or less. But in the second week, the fever hardly ever went to 103. It now ranged between 98 to 102. Sounds funny, doesn't it? In the second week, I did not read anything at all. I did not watch any movie also. I gained much balance in this second week. The doctor's dose was very effective; excretion with lose motions proved it. So I started eating fruits that controlled these problems of tummy. Fruits like apple, custard apple, sounded very effective. The doctor had permitted yellow orange too, so it may have also helped a bit as I ate it the most by now. It was the second week, when I looted all the fun and comfort out of it. I began to think in a positive manner. Never in my life was allowed to sleep all day. I had the chance now. Because of headache thing and losing balance, I wasn't told of studying even a single time. At normal days, I don't study at all even if I am told to, so now it was like a heavenly atmosphere. I was just to order things, no matter how stupid or close to me they would be, they were brought to me instantly without any complain made. Life with typhoid was almost similar to a holiday in a luxury hotel. The only difference was, that instead of paying the bill, I was paying some platelets and many of the white blood cells. On Friday, the doctor said that I will be cured of typhoid by Monday, 1st March if exact care of my health would be taken. I made a bet with my elder brother that I'll guaranteed be cured of typhoid on 1st of March. If I win, he was to show me '3 idiots' and 'harishchandrachi factory' on PC and pay 5 bucks. He showed me the movies but I still have got to receive the coin from him.
On 2nd March, I had some fever, but later on it vanished. On 3rd, I went with both my parents to the doctor. We were shown in his cabin when the closing time had neared. I was one of the last patients. The doctor suggested minimum a week's rest and a tonic. It's 11th of March now, and I am well recovered from fever by now. But I still get tired very quickly. My long hands haven't got their original grip yet, and all I can manage to read is Loksatta newspaper. If I read anything else, I feel tired and sleepy and often wish to put the book aside, no matter how much the interesting part has arrived in the story.
I was already a very thin person. Now I am almost invisible. I must be weighing just 30kgs by now. Let's see if the time can help me gain some more weight.
I was allowed, or better say, forced to sleep all day. I woke up only to eat and to excrete.
The first week of typhoid went horrible. The doctor predicted it to be typhoid on the fifth day, and it was confirmed on the sixth day. But before that, for four days I had been thinking it as just a simple fever, which was supposed to pass away with time. So I would keep reading Pride & Prejudice, the book, for hours and hours of the with its diminished size of the font. And my head would ache a little after I woke up from my sleep. I have also watched many movies in those four days' time, movies I have already watched a hundred times before on the DVD player in the house. I never understood that the headache was the effect of all this stuff I did addictively.
The nights of these four days and the next two were like a terrible nightmare to me. All the day I would sleep, so naturally in the night I wouldn't be tired enough to go deep in sleep like the other members of my family. I have no idea f the reason, but I would have to and pee at any time of the night, like 2O'clock, 3.30AM, any time. At nights my fever would rise to the highest of all, 103 Fahrenheits. That is between 40 and 410C. At this temperature, I would not feel any cold, but burning hot. I would cast off my blankets and think that since I am not feeling cold anymore, my fever must be coming down. And the sweating will probably start in a few moments' time. However, after I would check my fever for it to have come down to 98 Fahrenheits or something near to that, I would receive a shock when the thermometer showed 103 Fahrenheits. I would then remember the stages of malaria which I had memorized for the Maharashtra Board Examination. Everything suited in. In the 'Cold Stage', patient feels terrible cold and desires to be covered by blankets. The stage lasts for 15 minutes to an hour may be. In 'Sweating Stage', fever comes down with profuse sweating and there is intense headache. It happened to me in daytime. And lastly, Hot Stage. In this stage, body temperature rises to 410C and patient cast off his clothes. 410C means 104 Fahrenheits and temperature would be 103 Fahrenheits. The only relieving thing was that the book stated that the hot stage would last 2 to 4 or 6 hours. But mine lasted for 15 minutes to half an hour. Then the fever would come down to 102 or 101. But not less than that. First week went off like that. On the fifth day, the doctor visited me at home as I wasn't able to even climb down the staircase of my building. He suggested a blood test, and nodding his head to my father, said that the test will turn out to typhoid. Although they had said they will come on the same day, a man from that hospital or whatever you call them who do all this test, came on the next morning when I was resting after the breakfast. By that time I had become so weak that I needed support of somebody to walk, or to stand somewhere for sometime. It was always probable that my head would spin if I go to the toilet after sleeping for even half an hour minimum. The first time my head spun was on the third or fourth night perhaps, at around 3 O'clock. I was peeing when suddenly I felt my eyes losing their light, and after a few moments, my father found me, fallen in toilet with my eyes closed. I was conscious, but I had lost the energy to open my eyes and face the light. How could I then dare to lift myself up, in case I fell again? I remained there only without moving a muscle. Fortunately, I hadn't shut the door from the inside. Otherwise I would have remained there only for hours. My father must have heard the sound of me falling, and came hurriedly. He opened the door ajar, only to find me in that condition. He then held my hands, and I stood up with his support. When I got out and was standing with my father's support, I tried to open my eyes only to find that I could see nothing, and so after declaring it, the thought that I had become blind made me lose my balance. My father tightened his grip on me and made me sit somewhere, which felt like a bed. I let my body fall upon it, when my mother shouted, "You have fallen in the toilet. Don't you just sleep there. First wash yourself and change clothes." But my father who knew by then that it was impossible for me to lift myself up without anybody's support, made her quiet and I went on sleeping. From that night on, each time I went to toilet, somebody stood outside, in case I fall again. And I did lose my balance when that man who came to take my blood also demanded for my urine in some small plastic bottle he gave. Luckily I called my father in time and he caught me. I did not go blind again, but everything became blur, so I hurriedly closed my eyes when my father held me. The man was told that he would receive the bottle afterwards, and so he did. By the time the report came in the evening, I had made publicity of me having typhoid amongst my friends. I called and sent SMS to so many friends that my father received a bill of Rs.561 of my cell phone, for the month of February.
I was hoping and hoping it to be typhoid rather than malaria. Not because I was scared of the symptoms of malaria, but because my tutors had also got the wind by then, that I had typhoid. And I wasn't in a mood of changing the name of the disease and doing the publicity again. Luckily, it turned out to be typhoid only, and no sign of malaria did the report show. Otherwise, my father would have received a bill of Rs. 1000 instead what he actually did.
From the next day on, I had gained some confidence, that my recovery from typhoid is going to be very soon. This second week of typhoid was comparatively very nicer than the first. In the first week, my fever had a range of 101 to 103. Not more or less. But in the second week, the fever hardly ever went to 103. It now ranged between 98 to 102. Sounds funny, doesn't it? In the second week, I did not read anything at all. I did not watch any movie also. I gained much balance in this second week. The doctor's dose was very effective; excretion with lose motions proved it. So I started eating fruits that controlled these problems of tummy. Fruits like apple, custard apple, sounded very effective. The doctor had permitted yellow orange too, so it may have also helped a bit as I ate it the most by now. It was the second week, when I looted all the fun and comfort out of it. I began to think in a positive manner. Never in my life was allowed to sleep all day. I had the chance now. Because of headache thing and losing balance, I wasn't told of studying even a single time. At normal days, I don't study at all even if I am told to, so now it was like a heavenly atmosphere. I was just to order things, no matter how stupid or close to me they would be, they were brought to me instantly without any complain made. Life with typhoid was almost similar to a holiday in a luxury hotel. The only difference was, that instead of paying the bill, I was paying some platelets and many of the white blood cells. On Friday, the doctor said that I will be cured of typhoid by Monday, 1st March if exact care of my health would be taken. I made a bet with my elder brother that I'll guaranteed be cured of typhoid on 1st of March. If I win, he was to show me '3 idiots' and 'harishchandrachi factory' on PC and pay 5 bucks. He showed me the movies but I still have got to receive the coin from him.
On 2nd March, I had some fever, but later on it vanished. On 3rd, I went with both my parents to the doctor. We were shown in his cabin when the closing time had neared. I was one of the last patients. The doctor suggested minimum a week's rest and a tonic. It's 11th of March now, and I am well recovered from fever by now. But I still get tired very quickly. My long hands haven't got their original grip yet, and all I can manage to read is Loksatta newspaper. If I read anything else, I feel tired and sleepy and often wish to put the book aside, no matter how much the interesting part has arrived in the story.
I was already a very thin person. Now I am almost invisible. I must be weighing just 30kgs by now. Let's see if the time can help me gain some more weight.
सोमवार, २५ जानेवारी, २०१०
A HIKE TO IRSHAAL
A week before our exams started, I had noticed a notice on a board at the entrance of the building of our college, R.A. PODAR, Matunga (E.). The notice said that PHC i.e. Podar Hikers Club, was announcing the last hike of the educational year '09-'10. The place where they planned to take the students to hiking was fixed near Karjat. I kept Karjat in mind as I had gone there when I was a little kid (now I am a big kid). Irshaal was the name of the place or fort or whatever it was; it always came to my mouth as Ishaan, a name of one of my friends. I showed that notice to one of my friends, Antariksha (a very uncommon name, I know). He immediately showed willingness to come. Then we tried to bring as much as friends we could. For three days, we were (especially me) trying to persuade my friends to come to the hike. Everyone just replied, "We will see."
Finally, I, Antariksha and Viraj Kole were the only ones left from all my good friends. The exams were over. It felt like a disaster had passed. The registration period was meant to be over by the morning of Wednesday - the same day when our exams got over in the evening. I had made an arrangement in advance so that I and my two friends could register later. I came to register on Thursday, as decided. However the college was closed that day. On Friday, I was asleep till 12O'clock. So, on Saturday, I registered. Just one day before the hike. I tried to call my friends, but they were busy in their classes (tuitions). Later on they told me that they were not in a mood of coming to the hike. They also suggested that I should take my name back. It was something like this-
Antariksha : Arre, 19 missed calls I had on my cell phone. I was in my classes buddy, Mahesh Tutorials! So, naturally I couldn't pick your call. You registered?
Me : Yep! Arre you can still register. Call that Manish and tell him that you want to register too. He has taken yours and Kole's names; you can confirm your registration till 4 o'clock. 'Cause after that he has got tuitions. You can pay money tomorrow.
Antariksha : I am not coming man. I have got tuitions tomorrow. I used the 330 bucks to recharge my talk time. So did Kole. You should also do the same, man. Just get yourself unregistered. Take the money back and recharge your talk time man.
Me : No, I have post paid service. But why aren't you coming yaar? It'll be fun. I'll pay for you if you want, but please come man. What will I do there alone?
Antariksha : There will be no fun. And no FYJC people will be their. There will be only seniors who will rag us. Either you will die out there only, or you will definitely commit suicide on your return.
I hadn't changed my mind, though. I had quarreled a lot about this with my father already. After successfully getting his permission, I was not going to take my name back now. No, not at all. I didn't tell my parents that my friends weren't coming. I knew for sure that nobody would know me before the hike. But when we should return, I would be the star of the hike. I know that was a little, err...... how to put it, over-rated. But, it's like, when you dream of passing the exam, you fail; when you dream of topping the exam, you pass.
We were told to be present at the college by 0545 hours on Sunday, with track-pants, sport-shoes, T-shirt, cap, minimum two litres of water, Tiffin- box, and an extra pair of each thing mentioned above, including underwear. I thought, for a one-day hike, underwear would not be necessary. I regretted it later, but that I will explain later on.
I live in Dahisar, and college is in Matunga. It takes generally an hour to reach my college. Reaching by quarter to six in the morning meant leaving my house by five pm. So I did. Mumbai Marathon was on the same day, so the first class compartment was not empty, luckily. The train I got was an odd one. It was slow from Virar to Borivali, then fast from Borivali to Andheri, then again slow from Andheri to the last stop, Churchgate.
Next day I read in the newspaper that Kenyans won the marathon once again. I was not shocked at all. The three athletes I saw in the first-class compartment on Sunday were plump people. All the three of them seemed to have been forced into this race. They were yawning from time to time. None of them seemed to be excited about this marathon. The only thing that proved them being a participant of the marathon was the number they had put on their T-shirts.
My elder brother was told to accompany me from home to the college. He fell asleep as soon as the train started. I was chewing Orbit White. It was filthy, I felt. I wondered whether it was expired or it always felt like that. As soon as I got down at Dadar, I started searching for a dustbin. My brother showed me one, and I heaved such a sigh of relief when I spat it, as though I had just thrown some poison out of my mouth. My parents had suggested a sweater for it is winter time, but I felt no cold, neither did my brother. Still, I could see some people shaking themselves in sweaters and shawls. We reached college at six, and yet half of the people were absent, as my brother had estimated.
I had thought that FYJC public would be rare. However, a group of six students was from FYJC only. I felt relieved. As the time went, the number of hikers rose. We also had two or three sirs. That felt fantastic. The ragging part seemed almost impossible to me now. A guy named Anuj from T. Y. Bcom started to introduce himself to everybody who seemed to be hiking for the first time. Usually when people notice me, they estimate my age two years less than the real one. But I was surprised when Anuj asked me whether I was from F. Y. Bcom. I told him that I am from FYJC, and he seemed to be surprised too. That was something unusual to me.
I don't remember the exact time; we must have left after ten or fifteen minutes may be. The bus, better be called a mini-bus, seemed very uncomfortable. All the seniors just got themselves in the front seats. I sat in the corner of the back, with Varun and Arpeet from the FYJC group I had mentioned before. The bus started; I had thought of shouting, 'Ganapati Bappa Moraya' but someone else did, luckily. That someone got no response, as far as my ears are concerned. As expected, the Antakshari began, but with no energy. Even the old people I had travelled with in Masuri showed more spirit. This Antakshari seemed useless. Varun, sitting beside me, seemed to have fallen asleep. I don't know what came to me, but I suddenly found myself a part of that Antakshari , and started to shout the song loudly. People sitting around jumped in their seats. I stood up, putting my bag on my seat, and began to sing (/yell), 'Ye mera dil, pyaar ka divana... blah blah blah!' Not that I want to take the credit (which means I do), but after I started singing (/shouting), other people seemed to have gained the energy too. However, my vocabulary was limited. So, I couldn't join in when old songs were being sung.
The bus farted when we had got very close to our destination, and the driver parked it aside of the road. We got out, waited while some people did the mutra visarjan. Then, we were told to walk by the road, and so we did. A T.Y. Bcom student (I don't remember his name), gave me company as we walked on. We talked about Marathi TV shows, especially about the sa re ga ma pa series. He was a non-Marathi, but he had more knowledge of Marathi TV shows than I had. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, and decided to speed up. He had started to discuss the story of the shows, which was intolerable (not the guy, the stories). Now I was walking by the head of the hike (I don't know his name), who was accompanied by Mandar and Pooja. They were discussing about some water problems in the city. That was an interesting topic. However, when I can't show off my knowledge or my view about the topic, I feel miserable. So I concentrated on walking, as I have a very little knowledge about the water problems, or rather say, my knowledge is possessed by every kid in the city (about water problems only, of course). We got near Morbe Dam, which seemed damn old.
Nothing much to say about the walking part now. I am not bad at describing the beauty I had observed (NATURE'S beauty, of course). But, I get bored describing it. Readers are requested to experience the beauty themselves. I'll just show the pics of nature, that's all.
Finally, I, Antariksha and Viraj Kole were the only ones left from all my good friends. The exams were over. It felt like a disaster had passed. The registration period was meant to be over by the morning of Wednesday - the same day when our exams got over in the evening. I had made an arrangement in advance so that I and my two friends could register later. I came to register on Thursday, as decided. However the college was closed that day. On Friday, I was asleep till 12O'clock. So, on Saturday, I registered. Just one day before the hike. I tried to call my friends, but they were busy in their classes (tuitions). Later on they told me that they were not in a mood of coming to the hike. They also suggested that I should take my name back. It was something like this-
Antariksha : Arre, 19 missed calls I had on my cell phone. I was in my classes buddy, Mahesh Tutorials! So, naturally I couldn't pick your call. You registered?
Me : Yep! Arre you can still register. Call that Manish and tell him that you want to register too. He has taken yours and Kole's names; you can confirm your registration till 4 o'clock. 'Cause after that he has got tuitions. You can pay money tomorrow.
Antariksha : I am not coming man. I have got tuitions tomorrow. I used the 330 bucks to recharge my talk time. So did Kole. You should also do the same, man. Just get yourself unregistered. Take the money back and recharge your talk time man.
Me : No, I have post paid service. But why aren't you coming yaar? It'll be fun. I'll pay for you if you want, but please come man. What will I do there alone?
Antariksha : There will be no fun. And no FYJC people will be their. There will be only seniors who will rag us. Either you will die out there only, or you will definitely commit suicide on your return.
I hadn't changed my mind, though. I had quarreled a lot about this with my father already. After successfully getting his permission, I was not going to take my name back now. No, not at all. I didn't tell my parents that my friends weren't coming. I knew for sure that nobody would know me before the hike. But when we should return, I would be the star of the hike. I know that was a little, err...... how to put it, over-rated. But, it's like, when you dream of passing the exam, you fail; when you dream of topping the exam, you pass.
We were told to be present at the college by 0545 hours on Sunday, with track-pants, sport-shoes, T-shirt, cap, minimum two litres of water, Tiffin- box, and an extra pair of each thing mentioned above, including underwear. I thought, for a one-day hike, underwear would not be necessary. I regretted it later, but that I will explain later on.
I live in Dahisar, and college is in Matunga. It takes generally an hour to reach my college. Reaching by quarter to six in the morning meant leaving my house by five pm. So I did. Mumbai Marathon was on the same day, so the first class compartment was not empty, luckily. The train I got was an odd one. It was slow from Virar to Borivali, then fast from Borivali to Andheri, then again slow from Andheri to the last stop, Churchgate.
Next day I read in the newspaper that Kenyans won the marathon once again. I was not shocked at all. The three athletes I saw in the first-class compartment on Sunday were plump people. All the three of them seemed to have been forced into this race. They were yawning from time to time. None of them seemed to be excited about this marathon. The only thing that proved them being a participant of the marathon was the number they had put on their T-shirts.
My elder brother was told to accompany me from home to the college. He fell asleep as soon as the train started. I was chewing Orbit White. It was filthy, I felt. I wondered whether it was expired or it always felt like that. As soon as I got down at Dadar, I started searching for a dustbin. My brother showed me one, and I heaved such a sigh of relief when I spat it, as though I had just thrown some poison out of my mouth. My parents had suggested a sweater for it is winter time, but I felt no cold, neither did my brother. Still, I could see some people shaking themselves in sweaters and shawls. We reached college at six, and yet half of the people were absent, as my brother had estimated.
I had thought that FYJC public would be rare. However, a group of six students was from FYJC only. I felt relieved. As the time went, the number of hikers rose. We also had two or three sirs. That felt fantastic. The ragging part seemed almost impossible to me now. A guy named Anuj from T. Y. Bcom started to introduce himself to everybody who seemed to be hiking for the first time. Usually when people notice me, they estimate my age two years less than the real one. But I was surprised when Anuj asked me whether I was from F. Y. Bcom. I told him that I am from FYJC, and he seemed to be surprised too. That was something unusual to me.
I don't remember the exact time; we must have left after ten or fifteen minutes may be. The bus, better be called a mini-bus, seemed very uncomfortable. All the seniors just got themselves in the front seats. I sat in the corner of the back, with Varun and Arpeet from the FYJC group I had mentioned before. The bus started; I had thought of shouting, 'Ganapati Bappa Moraya' but someone else did, luckily. That someone got no response, as far as my ears are concerned. As expected, the Antakshari began, but with no energy. Even the old people I had travelled with in Masuri showed more spirit. This Antakshari seemed useless. Varun, sitting beside me, seemed to have fallen asleep. I don't know what came to me, but I suddenly found myself a part of that Antakshari , and started to shout the song loudly. People sitting around jumped in their seats. I stood up, putting my bag on my seat, and began to sing (/yell), 'Ye mera dil, pyaar ka divana... blah blah blah!' Not that I want to take the credit (which means I do), but after I started singing (/shouting), other people seemed to have gained the energy too. However, my vocabulary was limited. So, I couldn't join in when old songs were being sung.
The bus farted when we had got very close to our destination, and the driver parked it aside of the road. We got out, waited while some people did the mutra visarjan. Then, we were told to walk by the road, and so we did. A T.Y. Bcom student (I don't remember his name), gave me company as we walked on. We talked about Marathi TV shows, especially about the sa re ga ma pa series. He was a non-Marathi, but he had more knowledge of Marathi TV shows than I had. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, and decided to speed up. He had started to discuss the story of the shows, which was intolerable (not the guy, the stories). Now I was walking by the head of the hike (I don't know his name), who was accompanied by Mandar and Pooja. They were discussing about some water problems in the city. That was an interesting topic. However, when I can't show off my knowledge or my view about the topic, I feel miserable. So I concentrated on walking, as I have a very little knowledge about the water problems, or rather say, my knowledge is possessed by every kid in the city (about water problems only, of course). We got near Morbe Dam, which seemed damn old.
Nothing much to say about the walking part now. I am not bad at describing the beauty I had observed (NATURE'S beauty, of course). But, I get bored describing it. Readers are requested to experience the beauty themselves. I'll just show the pics of nature, that's all.
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