Shimla, Diwali and the willows

I had thought of this title during my journey back to Noida. But some previous commitments (CAT) had kept me away from my blog. Finally, after a terrorizing exam and an entire day of introspection, I am here to write about my Shimla Diwali trip.
The trip had all the makings of a legendary sojourn. The news that after 3 n a half years, I was going back to shimla, was alone enough to make the anxiety glands in my body to secrete super anxious hormones. In addition to this, it was a time to meet the clg guys after so long. A cherry on the pie/cake. The journey dint start as planned. Instead of leaving on Sunday, i left on friday evening to the Dream city Chandigarh.
What followed was 2 days of HIGH action, super HIGH action. I reached solan on Sunday afternoon in a "totally screwed" state, helped Ma with the packing and by 9 in the evening we were enjoying our serene neighborhood in Shimla (Ladakhi Mohalla).
The next day I called up Anshul n Adams (others had not come yet) and a meeting was scheduled at the famous Scandal Point. Even though i talk to pommy regularly, i had no idea that I d be uber delighted. The USUAL followed. By usual i mean the gedian , the chai , the ghussi talk about any recognizable girl or for that matter any girl (91.769 % of our talks are related to girls). There was a slight difference this time around though. The places which we ignored during clg (CCD, Barista, Willows) due to major financial constraints were a common hangout places. And, being the great human beings that we are, we still visited our earlier spots (townhall stairs, chaoudhry gi ka dhaba).
The next four days were exactly the same. Everything about Shimla was the same as was 4 or 5 years back. What had changed was the people. The girls had become emo, the boys were thinner than ever and all the super hot girls who we admired during school were married now. :(
The best day was DIWALI. 8 sons of Shimla were meeting today. They were (in descending order of ages) Josh, Panta, Sirka, Ashu, Adams, Pommy, Kairo and of course me. And we had a total blast. Remembering the clg days, the annual general surveys, the dhees that some of us got in college, the trips and what not. Add to that, the Edwardian jokes. Simply mind blowing. The best part was Panta trying to impress girls half his age with his new shades. Even this effort dint stop the girls from checking out ashu and sirka.
Saying goodbye was really tough. But we have learned to live with the reality now.
For the first time in 6 years, I dint want to come back from Shimla. It was so difficult. The place is a heaven and I am proud to call it my hometown. During the journey back to Noida, my emotions kept switching from sorrow to joy. I kept smiling as I cherished the entire week i spent in shimla and cried in my heart coz it was over. To conclude as all great writers do,

The cold winds, the green panorama, the long walks on the mall, the beautiful girls, the chai at chaudhry ji's, the photo sessions on the town hall stairs, the burger at city point, the feeling of pure joy and passion.
be in the hills and u ll know,
be in shimla and u ll know
be a shimlite and u ll know...

Constant is Nothing.

Constant is Nothing. This may seem to a banal, cliched sentence, but the significance, the relevance this has in life is remarkable, to say the least.
The word Constant always reminds me of the Episode 4*05 of LOST(Undoubtedly the best TV series ever). Desmond, in his time travels, tries to find out the 1 thing, the Constant, that would help him save the Island. His sporadic search ends when he realizes that the constant in his life was the person he loved the most; his wife. I just tend to differ with this idea of your beloved being your constant. For me a person himself is the Constant in his life.
You have to fight your own wars. Bestowing faith on someone else is suicidal in this mean malign world. The person who you considered your friend today turns out to be your biggest critic tomorrow. People with the opinion that critics are your best mirrors can budge off right away. People who call themselves critics are just a bunch of pessimist losers (low-lifers) who just have to find a negative even if there is none. So, if you have a critic, even if he is your friend, he is the last person who you ever want to talk to.
Whenever I was in a turmoil, I always found solace listening to my mother's voice, her infinite love showering even through the cell phone. Add to this my fathers constant encouragement to outrun everybody in the race of life. Divine! But after all this, it comes back to me. To do everything in my capacity to keep maa happy, to never let that beautiful smile go away from her face. To do something in life to substantiate my fathers belief that his son is the best in the world. The pressure is just too much to handle sometimes. You just wish, hope against hope, that things turn out as you want them to. Impossible though.
The only possible conclusion from this shambled and chaotic writing is the spirit to fight. Fight till your critics are silenced, fight till you feel you are the happiest person on the earth, fight till you find a constant in life, fight till INFINITY.