DU Lesson #3

Well, this isn’t exactly a DU lesson. But, what the hell.

Always bolt the room door before you decide to see how cool you look in your aviators by dancing in front of the mirror. Otherwise, the maid will enter and see you in weird poses. She will then proceed to smirk about it whenever you run into her.

Past, Present, Future.

DU has HOT stuff. Correction : Hot TALL stuff. I LOVE this place!

Also, I think my past* is hell-bent on following me around. An ex-crush of mine is a senior in my college. Another one is going to Khalsa. Crush-To-End-All-Crushes is in Hindu. And that’s not all. There is this one guy who up and bloody left Engineering in Illinois State and is now in Hindu. True story.

ANYWAY! My classes haven't really started poori tareeke se. I have huge gaps in my timetable which is AWESOME because it means I can move about North Campus freely! Lovin’ the first few days of college.

 

*When I say past, I almost always mean unrequited like. Yeah, I’ve lead a sad, sad life.

DU Lesson #2

Do not, I repeat, do not buy your reference books on the first day. People will think you're a nerd.

Plus, you'll have to lug the bloody package along when your friends decide to scope out the Delhi School of Economics ki Canteen [which is bloody awesome, by the way]. This will almost give you a hernia.

DU Lesson #1

Invest in an umbrella. You do NOT want to go to your college orientation looking like you took a shower with your clothes on.

Also, don't bother washing your hair. Atleast three cars will splash dirty pothole water all over you when you (intelligently) take a rickshaw while it's raining.

Planes and Bombay Rains

Ever been woken up in the dead of the night (crack of dawn, whatever) by a rumbling sound that makes you think the alien mothership is landing? I have.

The place I've been staying at for the last three weeks in Santa Cruz, Mumbai is so close to the airport, I can hear the people on the international flights (because only those fly at such odd times) being given the "Aagey do dwaar, peechhey do dwaar" speech by the stewardesses.

Bombay, I've realised, is a peculiar city. One moment it's a perfectly sunny day; I have my aviators on. The very next second, there's a crack of thunder and I'm totally drenched. People here don't have the same tendency to, well, show-off as North-Indians (us Punjabis leading the lot!) do. Coincidentally, this is one of the major complaints Mumbaikars have against Delhi.

Roads here seem to be meant for vehicles as well as pedestrians. First, you honk and clear your way. Then, you get stuck in traffic.

But, there is no road-rage. This is a laidback city with patient, easygoing people. Where Delhi drivers would've honked their horns and hurled abuses at the other drivers till their throats were sore, Mumbai drivers wait patiently for the car in front of them to move. Quite the culture shock, considering I've grown up with the notion firmly implanted in my brain that red lights are meant to be ignored, speed limits destined to be broken and vehicles meant to be overtaken!