Of college and the days that were....*sigh*...

Ok..so this is the first time i am going to put someone else's writing on my blog....wen i started out to blog..i had solemnly sworn to myself that i wont put up anything unoriginal on my space...it was purely for my thoughts, my ideas, my creation....
but sometimes u come across some stuff which so poignantly converys what u urself want to say that it is impossible to plagiarise :)
so here's an article from my college website...me was feeling nostalgic abt st.stephens and wanted to write abt it and bingo i find this awesome article by god knows who which fits like a neat piece in a jigsaw.....cool...!
so read and enjoy...its all abt my college and echoes my sentiments to a T...

Snap-shots, pot shots and other shots on and off the rocks---History of the World in Three years:
From the Cat's cradle to Grave's end.

Conception: 12+19 - (these are the long and short of it, the crosswires under which the new entrant stands waiting to be born: invisible strings that have really lowered the incumbent upon the stage, are removed unseen and soon forgotten)

Labour : The hardest part is always the first. The interview has nothing inter-about it, more like a three on one pile up.

Delivery : Pushed through the front gates, themselves modestly ajar, or celibately chained, depending upon your perspective, you entered Andrew's Court (notice the past tense).

The World : is a curious place in which everything and nothing happens. There are temptations, vices, samosas, chang, Allnutt South (for the boys), walks in the rain, nights out and days in; ranged against them, classes, tutorials, assembly attendance, attendance, assembly, the mess, the girl's hostel (for the girls), long hauls on DTC, the rain with no one to walk with, samosas, Jan tests, Cat scans, Shakesoc plays and sundry dirty laundry that washes over you (notice no mention of classes, drat).

You Learn : Hell is other people; heaven is also other people; Love is all you need, experience all you get; A rolling stone keeps rolling until stopped by Newton; 2+2 always means trouble; playing hard is harder than studying hard; the face in the mirror never looks quite like you.Like a report from a gun and the time the bullet takes to land, the seemingly interminable gap between anda-tamatar and grad-dinner (same fare, different dress codes) vanishes.

The exams, last and certainly the least, arrive like judgement day with a whimper. Trains, planes and automobiles are the biers that carry the newly anointed body off. You leave, you wake up, the real world grabs you by the throat, the arm, or whatever part it can get its hands on. You look back. Where was I? Did I suffer? Was it hell? Too late. As the raw taste of egg scrambled with semi-cooked onion still lingers somewhere in the synapses of your nervous system, and will fire you up periodically to return for more, you realise, having got your little bite off the apple of knowledge, you've been kicked out of paradise.
Credits: Unknown