Where knowledge is wealth.

5K is one who spouts more useless knowledge than anyone I have ever known. Fondly called arbit gyaan, it comes at any given time, especially when you least expect it. While sleeping in class one shall be woken up to be told the different types of whiskey and how much alcohol exactly is in each one of them and how each one is made. While trying not to spill dal on oneself in the crowded mess, one shall be treated to the mesmerising details of the specifications of super-complex razors. When moaning over the huge syllabus of an impending test, one is cheered up by having recited to them details of all the different dialects of Punjabi. Is it any wonder then that he is fondly called the "back of a Navneet notebook" (Just by me actually. It never caught on. Wonder why.)

The other day, when I was being treated to a random discourse on the specifications of ASCII values of keyboards for encryption, I was overcome with admiration for and gratitude for all the knowledge I had gained simply by his companionship. For the next two minutes, he couldn't get a word in between what I was saying (rare, for this one). My monologue went something like this:

"I art eternally grateful to thee for all the knowledge conferred upon me, an undeserving soul who hast been blessed with thy words. Thou art the god of arbit gyaan and thou must be honoured. A shrine shall be erected in thy name and followers shall flock from ever corner to bathe in the holy presence that it shalt exude. The aura of knowledge that shalt pervade the shrine shalt be soaked up by one and all and all thine followers shalt bring other people, to make them believe. We shalt go forth and propagate the wonder that is thy arbit gyaan and spread thy word far and wide. Every week an offering of chicken tikka shalt be made to your shrine which thou shalt grace and bless so that thy followers may eat and prosper."

Needless to say, he was amused. And not happy that he wouldn't a weekly dose of free chicken tikka at his own shrine.

Boys. Sheesh. Never satisfied.

And yes, Navneet's tagline IS "Where knowledge is wealth."

The why and how of things

Why are some people eternally in quest for the truth? To discover where we have come from, where we are going... In order to find that point which determined that we shall be the way we are. It is because these people are troubled? Is it because they were born to uncover the mysteries that plague civilisation? Or is it because they crave an unending puzzle; something that will keep them occupied with no near hope of getting a solution, so that they can ignore their own demons and try to crack the rhetorical questions that other people utter on pretentious first dates without a care in the world? Are they the kind of people who, after solving such a mystery, would take up another practically un-doable task? Or is it because it's abysmally early on a should-have-been-lazy Saturday morning and lack of food has made them believe that their extreme hunger is caused due to the eternal unanswered questions lurking in the shadows of humankind?

Bet you didn't see that coming.

Platform 9 and three-quarters of an emotional breakdown.

It takes a while coming and it seems like eternity till it does. Just like the train that you need to board, which has halted at a signal just out of reach of the platform. Annoyingly close yet so far. That impatience builds up inside of you and then when it finally chugs slowly to you, you exhale gratefully and clamber on.

I refer to a thought, a mindset that had to come sometime, which you just wished would hurry up. The notion that people, or a person, does not matter. That you would be a whole lot better off without them in your life. That you would be a better person without them holding you back. Without them triggering neuroses you never knew you had. Never knew you could have. Without making you blame yourself for simply everything that was not flowers-and-sunshine that happened, to yourself or to them. Without making you seem, even to yourself, to be mildly masochistic because of your tendency to go and hurt yourself again and again and again, and happily so (?) at that. Without them picking away at your fears and threatening to expose the wound beneath the scab. Without making you constantly fear that you are doing something wrong which will ruin everything while you don't even fully know that there remained nothing to ruin. Without making you feel like your own worst enemy.

People are impermanent. They come, they go away. They do not matter. Especially if they make you feel like shit. In which case, they matter less.

All aboard.