Everything Else Is Rubble

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The administrative office in front of the main building. In this age of endless information, I sometimes pause and realize something strange. I am drowning in information, but starving for memories. Every day, my mind absorbs hundreds of headlines, messages, videos, opinions, and notifications. Most of them vanish without a trace. Yet when I stop for a moment, memories from forty years ago return with astonishing clarity. Today, for some reason, my thoughts wandered back to my school and its teachers. I remember my kindergarten teacher, Ms. Carol at Little Angels. She was Anglo-Indian, impeccably dressed, and absolutely determined that every letter I wrote should sit neatly within the four lines of my notebook. Not touching the ceiling. Not falling through the floor. Perfectly contained. I don't remember what I had for lunch three days ago. But I remember those four lines. My first-grade teacher, Ms. Alice at BP Indian Public School, was...
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What not?

A lot of things I did this week(of course nothing to do with academics)! I went to Ohio for skiing, watched Munich at St Louis, read One night @ Call Center and saw a Telugu movie (Varsham) for the first time here in Rolla. After all, one can live in Rolla without English but Telugu is a must considering the wonderful Hyderabadi population here. Skiing was a lot of fun and if you love to fall, it is all the more fun. What else can I say after having fallen every other second! New Year's eve was pretty normal. According to me there is not much gloss attached to the event. After all, the next day is just another day, except for the year which changes. I still don't understand the excitement associated with the event. Does it in anyway change your lifestyle? We just live to see another day with hope! The wheels roll to reveal the same old scars in the uneven journey of life(Too poetic, eh?). Just reminds me. Long time since I penned a poem. Wait for one!

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