Thapar! Now that I'm out... Le premier poste

There are people from Thapar you never met, or seldom ever... never talked or very seldom talked to.
These people who you feel a weird camaraderie with...

Acquaintances that never really turned into friendships...

Buckethead - Sail on Soothsayer by XEn 

Sure those friendships were something else entirely, but that's stuff for another, different post. This one, this post is about the people who you kind of knew, but really didn't...

It's a strangely comforting feeling that there are people like you in the world, hopeless romantics, repressed artists, people you think you would've been great friends with, but just weren't...

In Thapar I say, because I have a feeling that Thapar is a sort of place which (in my time atleast), attracted these people (not all mind you, but many)...these people who were always, in the true sense of the word, brilliant...brilliant as fuck.
Not the academic IIT kind of brilliant, nor the social LSR kind of brilliant, a very generic brilliance...
A very well rounded brilliance, if you will...

You all can relate with this post, you from Thapar who're reading this, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
A very repressed brilliance perhaps...

So okay, half the people I know in Thapar could've gone to an IIT, had we slaved for a few more months... So of course there were people there who were painfully aware of this and spent the next four years of their lives trying to desperately compensate for this fact. They compensated for this in various ways (including dating people from IITs...)
I'm not talking about these sorry fucks.

I'm talking about the people who made peace with the fact that this was where they were going to spend the next four years of their lives and they spent these four years being awesome as hell.
And they made those four years awesome.
In very different ways.
A very varied brilliance infact...

A brilliance that made a narcissistic man like me feel mediocre at times...
Only at times though...
I jest!

I'm talking about that amazing guitar player, that guy with the amazing voice, the girl who, when she danced silenced entire auditoriums... the football player who still trolls football forums not giving a fuck about what anyone says, the guy who got into microsoft and still had ten times more fun in four years than most people around him...that poetess, that guy who started out as a compensating could-be-IITian, but met wonderful people who made sure that when he left, there was no place in the entire world he would rather have spent the last four years in...
X-men who made entire hostels laugh and talk!
A very unusual brilliance...

These people, most of them you never really got to know, or not as well as you would have liked to.

But you share with them something sacred. You share with them years of shared experience, you share with them tradition. At the heart of it, you share with them a badge of honour!

It's a good feeling...
It's a hopeful feeling.

Her!

Her.

The word will lose meaning soon, I shall repeat it often. Her.

Her.

You know her. That one. Yeah.

Yeah, you remember that time you met her. What was that first conversation you had with her? God it was awkward! But it would turn into something so awesome so soon. You never knew!
Did you tell her? You were lucky if you did.
Or well, some of us were. The rest of us, we never told her.

Now, so many years later, we're so many years older.
Do you remember her?
Of course you do. You remember her, some days, or if you're one of the unlucky ones, you think of her everyday, that one bird you lost.
You smile when I call her that one 'bird'.

What have you become?
Are you the same man who fell in love with her? It's been so long. Do you even remember her?
Of course you do. You remember her, some days.

You have that song, you do!

Her.

And you listen to this song and you think about her.
Do you remember that time you met her? What was that first conversation you had with her?

What was the last conversation you had with her?
You remember that last conversation better than you remember the first one, don't you?

Do you remember she hurt you?
Now you do. Remember...

It's been years. It's fading, your memory of her. You don't remember her face. Like the rain, it falls and it washes away every day at a time.

Sometimes, as you plug in your earphones as you go to work/class in the morning, you think of her. As you're crossing the street, you think of her, crossing the street in the opposite direction, and you lock eyes, and you realise she misses you as much as you miss her.
But...
She's not really there, is she?

Yeah, but you don't remember her.

Plug in your earphones.
You know her. That one? Yeah...

Yeah, you remember the time you met her...