HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY BISWAJOY DA

Dear Sir,

I'm sorry if I've offended you by not sticking to the conventional "Respected Sir",but I could'nt help,for,in addition to the obvious respect,I hold you dear to my heart.In the long lost days of the first pimple,Resnick Halliday and the first smoke my heart retained the gift of wonder from childhood.I wondered about the busy monkeys in H.C.VERMA,about the alcoholic in Bahl and Bahl,the engaging endearing labyrinth of resistive networks,the form of the NORMAL DISTRIBUTION;I wondered...

But about 3 years back my heart turned into a mere cardiac muscle,the foetus of my questions aborted by MATRIX EDUCARE,and my wonder was replaced with hatred.Hatred for listless wander in the worn -out beaten path called the WBUT,hatred for being a typewriter (of dated notes),hatred for having lost myself.

Thanks a meg-ohm Sir for being the lighthouse I needed,Thanks a kilo-farad for bearing the beacon light of knowledge,thanks a lot for being my messiah Sir.

If you have managed to endure this ordeal this far,I would like to utilize this opportunity to express my love,respect and gratitude for you Sir.Some teach , you inspire;I promise not to let go of whatever remaining opportunities I have to feel inspired.

yours truly

Debrup Ganguly

unfinished..read later

Circa 2008
IIT Kharagpur


“… Of TIME you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing.
…Yesterday is but today’s memory and tomorrow is today’s dream.
...…. And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.”

---KHALIL GIBRAN

Sometimes it takes a lifetime for a minute to pass (IEMians know better),sometimes a whole lifetime passes in a matter of minutes (only a fortunate few should know). To reproduce properly that empyreal experience yours truly dons a bird’s eye, and sitting atop the convex gleam of the sky (Shelley anyone?) gains access to the minds of three IEMians, one a poet, another super-intelligent, and the other an innocent, quixotic child of a man. If you endure the entire ordeal you might put these traits to names,but for now, their names in no particular order are, Dwip Sengupta, Debrup Ganguly, and Abhishek Dutta .


JUMP CUT:
VIKRAMSILA FOYER
ROBO RELAY,2ND ROUND:

“Oh God ,please..please keep it glued..”-murmuredt Abhishek while Dwip stared fixedly at the bot ,confident that the sensors could not go wrong this time.This was the 3rd and Final restart and he had been warned in the 2nd for uttering what is chaste French to the sane, expletives to some. Debrup soaked in the palpable vibes-a whole gamut of emotions openly swarmed in the arena;greed, anger, hatred ,joy ,relief-they were all there, as if there were faces no more ,pure human emotions to the fore, and the progressive tightening of three clasped hands perhaps provided a curious trimpot to their emotion sensors. 32 adrenaline soaked seconds later bliss took on as the hands were replaced with hugs, and the loudspeaker blared the latest entrant into the finals of ROBOTIX 2008, TEAM BMN.

“Its only half-done” ,declared Dwip ,carrying the bots with motherly care. The pleasant spring breeze(the ISHA breeze,as per Debrup) caressed their delights, on the way back to hostel. Abhishek was still busy exchanging ‘pleasantries’ with people who had previously sneered at their naiveté. Naïve they were,and their mechanism was simply ludicrous. But they had the moody mistress called luck by their side,for reasons best explained in THE ALCHEMIST. They had wanted it with all their heart ( they’ve always shared a single heart and they know ‘noun numbers’) and to their astonishment the universe did conspire to help them achieve.(Thank You Mr Coelho, both from me and on behalf of Farah Khan!)


“ ...We reached the dizzying heights of that dreamt of world”
---PINK FLOYD



Theirs is an adolescence grown on DIL CHAHTA HAI. More precisely, that opening note and the 3 bikes have always been their vision of freedom,of joy and camaraderie. That image was replaced forever with the sights of the lush lonely but filled lawns, the entwining complex of roads, the queued toilets, the constant buzz of activity and the taste of the DREAMLAND RESTAURANT.

Dreams prove deceptive when realized , dreams do not appear like dreams in the process of realization .

The biting February Kharagpur Station was far from the warm kolkata spring, the auto ride to IIT-K (and the fare) was not the shortest, and the first view of the place was overwhelming in an uneasy way. This place hosted a failed dream, gallons of midnight oil,sweat and the hefty sum paid to FIITJEE-its surely not that dream, just a 3 day stay. Or so they thought.