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Your life in college, chronologically is much like your infatuation with movies. You start out with excitement and possibly anything that is thrown your way makes you ponder upon it. Then is the next stage wherein you tell yourself your priorities and don’t go universal. By the end of third stage you are practically a veteran and more or less have experience on your side to guide other people even if in your yonder years you had turned a nought yourself (Notice the alliteration). The current stage is what exactly would be called niche art. Precisely why that cinema is so boring, I get the hang of it now. That would pretty much describe an average fourth year in an engineering college.

Some (that would be me) would also say: Life in college, chronologically is like your taste in porn. Though it would be apt here to point out that though the argument is less politically correct, it is a more accurate analogy.

Not having a football season around too adds boredom and of course you start missing your seniors and realise that you really don’t know anyone in your own college apart from your classmates because apparently, for a junior, you are nothing more than a Basilisk. Only in this case he isn’t killed, rather propelled to the administration ready to cut your throat to return your stare. The other day I saw a fellow fourth year cajoled out of a Table Tennis table by a mere glare of “Bhaiya!”

Of course, the above droning, like most of my theories comes a cropper in real life. People here, even of you aren’t acquainted with them, remain as awesome as ever. With time running out, the official guide to awesomeness “100 Most Awesome People of the Insti You Must Meet”, is being prepared. Safe here to say that mah experiences play in important part in deciding who is worth your time and who isn’t. People into super-kewl blogging have just entered the race with one blogger claiming he has a crush on a professor (the professor in question is male and so is the blogger by the way) and the other claiming he wants to kill a batchmate whenever he sees her, that in turn because he loves her.

The faculty isn’t far behind either where candidate qualities include a heavily Rajasthani fake American accent mixed with the grammar of a dog, Parseltounge and getting yourself on the coverpage of Vogue. The mere thought of meeting such fantabulous, mind blasting personalities at one go could get Paris Hilton wet with anticipation (If you catch my drift!!).

And there you are again, you really aren’t bothered about the status quo, you get out of your room and enjoy these people and your ruminations regarding each day being your last calendar day in the insti takes a back seat. The 101^st seat, I must say.