A Birds Eye View

Its around ten in the night, a light breeze blows across the corridor. It's just enough to cool your thoughts and get you nostalgic. I fill warm water from the dispenser and make my coffee. Ah, the sweet smell of coffee on days like this is just blissful. Holding my cup I walk to the 'balcony' on the second floor from where I get a, if not a birds, but a sparrows view of the college. And its not ten anymore.

I hold my coffee mug and take in the aroma while gazing across the view I am offered. Near the hostel entrance I see a group of girls and boys walking towards the college with their bags packed; they look no different than army personnel loaded for a mission. Just the point where they cross the canteen I see scattered groups of people. In groups of four, five and sometimes fifteen I hear a collective buzz. And no its not noise, its much more. Its the chatter of the generation that will define my tomorrow. Our tomorrow.

Another group sits on an arch outside the basket ball court, with their laptops searching for information around the globe, they discuss their latest projects. The work with intent, with time being irrelevant to them. They are at their game, and by Jarvis, are they good at it. The latest strategies, latest marketing gimmicks, the who's who and the whats what. If you sit with them, you would be warped in another world with mind boggling information.

Taking another sip I turn back to my room, and yet my steps take me downstairs on a walk through the college. I have walked through the college umpteen times and yet tonight look different. Though from a broad view everything is same and yet in its essence everything is strikingly different. As I walk towards the canteen ,to my left another group sits by the parapet on the lawn. They neither have books nor the laptops. It's the group you would find at every corner of a college, an office or just about anywhere. The group of merry men and women of today. As they find me staring at them , they all fall silent,I gaze somewhere else lest I pry on their privacy and then like a bolt of lightning someone cracks a joke(or so I feel) and the group is merry again.
I sip my hot aromatic coffee and decide its time to retire for tonight I walk back to my room and my corridor is in a different state altogether. Guys, and some men, walking to everyone's room except their own. I can hear the sound of music from somewhere( i say music relatively). Some are carrying their laundry basket to the washing machine, which has survived the onslaught. Some come out of their bath, ready to tackle the books and the gurus. I exchange greetings with many and telling them I am going to sleep gets a look that says : " Are you human? Its just ten!"
The aroma of coffee demands my attention.Another sip awaited my lips and as my lips were about to touch the divine concoction there is commotion downstairs. Everyone from the army personnel on mission, the sleepy logger heads, the information seekers, the merry men, the boys and the girl brigade assembled like ants surrounding another group of three or four people. Soem run in from the college and the library. In any other part of India, this would imply the inner group would be beaten to pulp; here we just celebrated their birthday. Maybe inspired by the call of the wild , everyone smashed the tasty looking cake on each other and kept laughing.Its this laughter I watch with more intent. Its the laughter from the heart. No one's duping or faking one another here. Its a trait which we will have to preserve and pass on. Being genuine. I can just pray this is infectious.
The aroma of coffee dragged my attention and so did my watch. It was eleven. I took the last sip and bid the college a good night. Though I knew, the college had just started its morning.