“So tell me, how’s KE?” asked a friend some time after my admission into the university.

Poor guy! He didn’t know I was a pin-less grenade just waiting to explode.

“It’s hell! The volume of the curriculum is staggering, the grossly undersized lecture-theatres are mind-boiling in summers and there are some 250 people in my class. (250 MAN!!! Add a million to it and that’s how old the Earth’s magnetic field is!!!) And then there are the fluctuating moods of the professors to cope with, the formaldehyde-soaked bodies to dissect (and confront) and the dilemma of having to go to uni on Saturdays!”

“OMG!!! That sounds horrible! But what are you still doing in that white elephant of a monstrosity when you hate it so much? Go run!”

To which I replied with Laura Castellano’s golden words in Erich Segal’s ‘Doctors’, “Who said anything about hating it?”

(And yes, this was all on Facebook! Where else do you get to flaunt the fact that you know how to correctly spell ‘dilemma’?!? : P)

You know, I like to think sometimes that I’ve been a victim of the worst form of force, barbarity and manipulation (read: non-indulgent parents); that I really wanted to become a nuclear scientist or a marine biologist or maybe even an alabaster-skinned, raven-haired beauty (Hey don’t judge! That’s the standard version of perfection dished out by all those cheap romantic paperbacks) who’d teach Archeology at Harvard during the day and fight crimes on the city’s rooftops at night. (With great beauty comes great responsibility) But the truth is that those are nothing more than the fair-weather fancies of a hyper-imaginative mind frizzled out by an over-dose of Physiology. For as far back as I can remember, what I’ve always wanted to do is what I’m doing now and where I’ve always wanted to be is where I am now. To cut the poetry, I have much to be thankful for. We all do, in our own separate ways.

But you see, the fact is that everybody wants something in return. That’s the ultimate Newtonian philosophy of action-breeds-reaction that the world is running on. You give some, you get some. Quite elementary and above-board, right? So, perhaps behind my magnificently altruistic intentions of being the knight-in-shining-armour of the ailing, I harbour the same old ulterior motives everyone secretly banks upon: fame, reputation, respect, admiration, reverence… oh and to seal the deal, bags upon bagloads of MONEY!!!! And that’s what this 150 year old colossal domed edifice gives me, isn’t it? It gives me its name. It gives the respect I do not deserve – atleast not yet. It makes allowances for my hopelessly flagging, stumbling memory. It hides my messy, unkempt loose-ends in its spotless whiteness and folds them gently in its magnanimous heart. And what does it ask in return? My service. My sincerity and devotion. My yet-to-be-honed skills. My recognition, love and appreciation for it as my Alma Mater. My blood, sweat and tears. Yes bood! For the Kali of knowledge must be invigorated, appeased and sustained by the very essence of its devotees’ lives.

So perhaps in a way both of us are connected, related…bonded by our mutual burning desire to rise above our imperfections and take our shared wisdom to infinity and beyond, to imbibe, like Gryffindor’s sword all that strengthens us and shun all that tries to cleave and weaken us; we are, perhaps welded together by a sacred covenant as old as time itself, to look within ourselves and “breathe to seek the wisest, the highest, the Alta Pete.”