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January in Vellore is like August in Bhopal. It’s humid like always but it is also kind of sunny. When you have to walk so much on foot, the climate really becomes a factor.

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Whenever I run late for a class, I don’t really run. I just pace. That is the beauty of college, you learn a lot. One of the things that I’ve learned is, don’t sweat the small stuff. Like getting to a class early or right on time. A few minutes late don’t kill the prof. and so it should not kill you.

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“May I come in Ma’am?”

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The Professor doesn’t reply, never does. So, we just walk in after the formality of permission. I scuffle for my seat under the fan but also around the first few benches. Hey, I’m not a geek. There’s a fully thought theory behind this.

You take the third bench. Why? Because to a teacher, their attention is mostly on the last benchers who are causing trouble and some of it is on the first benchers who are desperately begging for it (The attention, you filthy being).

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Therefore you take the third bench, far enough to easily watch a movie and close enough to focus if you feel guilty about your future and how your parents are spending so much on your ignorant ass. Also, you can escape the cross-questioning since the teacher can barely see what you’re doing with that problem and obviously, you are not going to ask a question first, right? Thank me later.

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Since I’ve been separated from my buddies because of the FFCS crap, I spend most of the time listening to music and writing this stuff. For instance, I’m writing this one just before the Physics lecture.

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“Today’s lecture is based on the quantum mechanical model of Maxwell.”

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God I love physics. (Again, not a geek)

Why? Science makes sense. Nothing else does. Chemistry has too many anomalies to ensure my faith in it and math is just a tool for physics to use. Physics gives you the why behind every magical wonder. I admire and respect that. I love physics for its ability to explain everything that’s happening around you.

For example, and this is mostly how I use it, when something paranormal happens around me, instead of shitting my pants, I use physics to reason with it. Like,

  • ·         A fallen water bottle: Wind, daft.

  • ·        Recurring sounds from an unknown source: probably thermal expansion and SHM

  • ·        A flying doll smiling at you very very creepily: Uhh…Still working on that.

You get the gist.

Although my love for physics is undeniably unconditional and genuine, having to wake up and walk down around two kilometers under the sun in the afternoon is not my jam.

Sorry Physics, It’s me.

Not you.

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But,

I haven’t missed a single class yet. I even went to the class under the weather with a nasty bug. You see, that extra motivation always comes from within. I’m willing to break my sleep and walk under the boil just for one reason.

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That reason just walked into the class. And may I add, with absolute elegance.

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I’ve written 3 poems and 7 musings on this one reason. More than I’ve ever written on anything. But do you know what’s tougher than writing poems and musings on someone?

Asking them out

And so, all this time has passed since the second semester has had its inception, and here we are just waiting for the right time to act. Which is, by the way, not anytime soon.

It all comes down to one bold move that could either ruin everything or just conjure a spark. As we all know, all great things are built with a massive investment of time, but are crumpled within seconds.

With this most optimistic ideology in mind, I hope to see myself trembling in fear, sweating like a waterfall but eventually mustering every ounce of courage and walking up to her and within the second, running away like a buffoon and ending up texting her.

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Hey, it’s the 21st century. Virtual is the new sexy. I can see myself being a bold, confident man behind the veils of Instagram where I channel my inner Chandler and somehow ask her out for,

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Coffee?


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