The all nighters have begun.

Pakorey.

Its been raining every hour since the past two days. I see it from the tall windows right across the room from my throne in the library. 

Security guards see me walk in early in the morning and new ones see me leave late at night. I dont even think they wonder about the timings. Everyones living at the library. They know the drill.


I take a break, i hang out with new people everyday, i wait for my brain to wake up, i smoke, grab a french vanilla from timmys on campus if it isnt too late.

And then I crave.

All i need now is chai with pakoras. And if my stars are aligned right may be my mom would bring jalebis and samosas on her way home.

But i forget.

Trois ans de plus de la torture dans les régions glacées du nord de l'Amérique.

Sigh.

Snow in Disguise

Ive been borrowing one book from the library all of the past month. Its the only one that NO bookstore in Montreal has. Its a Canadian Edition, and you know how they roll. (I actually dont know what their deal is man. Like seriously.)


So i wake up, go to the library, stay there for an hour, eat on campus, issue it and study. Until 3. When a loophole lets me keep a course reserve till 11 am next morning. So i issue it at 3 and go home. And i rush to campus at 11 am and repeat.


Yesterday, i couldn't. I checked back since the moment it was due back till the borrowing closed. The person who had borrowed probably payed some crazy ass fine on that book now. But i simply could not get the book. And there has never been a day where i couldnt borrow this book. 


And then from 2.44 to 7.16 am, I witnessed my first snowfall. 


I ran out in my flip-flops and pajamas. I welcomed winter with uncovered arms and feet. And the smile on my face, when those tiny flecks metled on my skin, was the only warmth i had. But it was enough. Enough to pull me through the minus 8 of Montreal snowy night. 


God didnt want me studying and sleeping early so i could return my book because he wanted me to see the first snow fall of my life.


He works in mysterious ways. Ones that never fail to amaze me.

College life. Y u no b easy?

Im sitting at the library. Choosing to write about how i dont have a topic to write about rather than finding a topic to write about and not write about not having a topic to write about and writing on that topic.


So exactly how does one decide on a topic out of a gazillion? With about like a billion books published on everything that socio has to offer.. Im stuck reading a book that would be easy for my sister to even understand. Who by the way is 14 and is not at all a socio person. But im here without a clue how to stretch a topic over 10 pages with 4 "scholarly"* references. 


*Who is not a scholar these days? 
Amir Liaquat called himself a scholar. Look where that got him :P