It’s been four days since I’ve come home, and not once have I thought about the hostel life, which most normal people “miss”, when home. Is it because I am an anti-social and despise other people? Maybe so. I must admit I hate other people. I even hate myself for being one of the oh-so-condescending species. The only ones with what we commonly percieve to be brains. But, as a rule, what I hate is the imperfection with which we use our heads. What I love about the goldfish in the bowl is its perfection. A Goldfish can only remember anything for about 10 seconds. So, it is perfectly dumb. It can’t build a “logical” mind, for logic (more commonly known as common sense) is a product of our “experience” and our reflection on that experience. The problem is that we start off with a perfectly white sheet of paper, and then, when the first blot of experience happens to ruin that sheet, we decide to “think” about it. What I mean is that just after we experience our first experience, our mind is no longer perfect. And after that, with our imperfect mind, we strive to achieve perfection, with our reflection. I am not saying that this achievement is impossible, but the odds are so neatly stacked up against us, the probability of us making an even bigger mess of the mess already there on the white sheet is so immense, that it makes me shudder. But this story and train of thought needs to be stopped for the time being because I don’t think a lot of us, with our imperfect minds, can be interested in it. So, this story’ll have to wait.
What I basically want to talk about is why I don’t miss my hostel life. It has something to do with a lot of things. It’s quite complicated. This is what I think initially. That it’s complicated, but just like everything else in life, especially mine, I am wrong about this. It’s really very simple. The only reason why I don’t like hostel is because of the food. It’s surprising, the power of food. There are only two kinds of people in the world: one that like good food, and the other that hate bad food. All people belong to atleast one of the aforementioned two sets. So, if you are the kind that hates bad food, you could either not like food at all, or like good food. Yes, there are people who don’t like to eat at all. I was one of them about 8 years ago (yes, I remember). I had this creepy feeling that all food was dirty. I don’t know how or why it happened to me, but I couldn’t eat at all. I just felt disgusted by the thought of having to put something in my mouth. After much trial and error (read vomitting), I managed to overcome my phobia, and I am now derisively averse to the thought that I could’ve hated food at some point, and I am sad to think that I lost so many years to that stupid fear and could not indulge in the carnal pleasures food had to offer. I distinctly remember this incident. It was a rainy day and I had grown fond of earthworms. I went to a restaurant with my mum and dad that day and ordered some noodles. I couldn’t help but notice the uncanny similarity between a noodle and an earthworm. I remember thinking that if so many earthworms are put into a single bowl of noodles, and with the restaurant serving hundreds of bowls each day, the poor earthworms would soon be extinct!
There are no words known to mankind that can describe the food that is served to us in the hostels. I think even an attempt to quantify it or compare with anything else is an insult to it. Food in the hostel mess is perfect in its inedibility. It often makes me wonder how do these people actually manage to make this kind of food. Though Joey Tribbianni would’ve loved this food, but I am no Joey, in more ways than one. A really naughty thought amuses me.
If what they say about sex is true, and that it is indeed just like food, I wonder how unlucky IITians really are, who get none of the two!
I have a theory about why so many bright students, who were so good when they were preparing for the JEE, actually end up faring badly in the exams after getting into IIT. It is because of the food. It must be. I have medical reasons to believe that. The brain utilizes about one third of the body’s glucose and one half of its oxygen for daily activity. Now, if we don’t eat right, the net intake of glucose is bound to decline and hence, it’s really easy to see, it’s not our fault if our results are not upto the mark.
I guess I can sleep in peace now; my SGPA is not my fault.
P.S.- Just a recommendation for a good laugh, try reading Ayn Rand’s “The Fountainhead” and watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S. at the same time. You’ll have a good laugh!