For a long time now, I've written things that are - for the search of a better word - made up. To make it sound better, I termed it all as fiction, but then again fiction is based on reality. The base for my stories however, were never the life that has been mine. Where they come from, that's another story though, belonging to a different time and place.

The purpose for writing this "collection of words" - again looking for a better term there - is something that I'm not really sure of. It's just that I was reading the old entries on the blog. The thirst to read those old entries was something someone said to me today, that jogged the memories back a few years. And, just like Music makes you relive the past vividly, the trip back to my past - in my head of course, there's no such thing as a Time Machine... yet - was the most vivid of all memories I've had in a while. It's true that out here, with college and a million things going on at the hostel, it's almost impossible to have those times. So all in all, I was really happy for that overdose of retrospect.

Yesterday was something of an eye opener for me, something of a weird eye opener actually. While I was lying down on the bed waiting for the IV medicines to kick in (that's intravenous meds... yes, I had to get a shot to stop the vomiting yesterday! Again, another very thrilling story, but won't really fit in here), it suddenly dawned on me how much of an overtime my guardian angel has to do all the time. I mean, of all the parties that I've been to, of all the times that I've been sloshed, I've never once thrown up as violently and continually, as the night before... and it was the one time that I had the good fortune to have 2 qualified doctors present in the party, and neither of them as badly drunk as I was!

But I'm not here to write about my drunken escapades. That would come later sometime... we'll see when. The memories make for a much interesting topic to write about, so I'll be sticking to that for the time being. Weird and unconnected memories, for example, of coming back home from the Maths Tuitions at 1 in the night, a cold December night in Delhi, on my bicycle. Stopping in front of the little hut of the colony guards, warming up in front of that fire they had before rushing back home, and to a warm and strong cup of Black Coffee... one of the most essential ingredients in staying up at night to study.

Fast forwarding to the time when I started writing the things that are there on this blog, brings me to the second year of college. The summer vacation during that time, also brought about the first real "job" that I did. I remember being psyched about going to "office" the first few days. Didn't take me all that long tp figure out that I was doing almost nothing compared to the actual work scene, but still it was one helluva experience.

Coming back home in the evening, going out in the evening with friends. A couple of espresso shots at the nearby Barista, a few hours of "literary" conversations; these are the ones that inspired me into writing those early, and stupid, poems that are present in the blog as well. I wonder what it was that made me write those weird and dark poems, and what the heck it was that made me publish the same poems... that too, oh so proudly!

Life somehow always ends up as one helluva ride, and whenever you look back at the times that were most trying, you always sit back and wonder... did I really go through all of that, or was it just my imagination? I guess that's what makes these overdoses of retrospect so much fun... in a sick, not at all fun way!!

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