The hostel blocks at the new campus are taking way longer than expected to get ready and be inhabited by budding future managers and CEO’s of the world. The college administration are doing their best by putting us up at really grand hotels and beach side resorts. 5 star material. I’m actually getting a chance to live the rockstar life style that I’ve always wanted. No home, no address. Living out of a suitcase, a guitar in my hands and a song in my heart. Although the song sort of seems to linger around topics like standard deviations, balance sheets and organizational behaviour.
Normally, given another time and situation, I’d be terribly proud of myself and not perturbed one bit. But the last two days are getting on my nerves. I’m finally sick of this 5 star hotel food. I just am. The soul in me is shocked that the heart is sick of opulent food. The delicious chicken and sea food is starting to annoy me. And the whole ‘living out of your suitcase’ bit isn’t as charming as I thought it would be. I’m rotating the same bunch of clothes day after day so as to not to take out the entire suitcase and spread all the junk I’ve been carrying around. I’ve shifted 5 hotels and resorts in the last month. And living out of the suitcase is getting annoying.
I think I’m doing this wrong. Rockstars get 5 star suites and generally don’t have to share their rooms with 2 other guys. (Unless of course they are into guys…). They don’t have to worry about laundry and the fact that the wi-fi connection isn’t any good in the room. Not to mention that their eyes don’t pop out of their sockets when they stare at how much room service costs. I actually paid 300 bucks for a burger. It was not worth it. Not to forget the limitless bounty of alcohol and women. (Dream on Mr.Murthy…Dream on !)
Instead, I’m sitting in the reception late into the night trying to comprehend the relevance of normal distribution curves and their relevance in the future. The only possible solace is the fleeting glimpse of the fairly good looking firang lady who sings at the bar, where the alcohol is super expensive and I shall not dream of entering. Alas, woe is I ! This isn’t the rockstar dream or the life I was looking forward to. I’m not completely miffed by the current state of affairs. I believe this is all preparation for the future. But honestly, at least I could have got my own room. People close to me know the whole history behind me and sharing of rooms. I guess karma has gone full circle. And full mental too.
And I feel bad that I’m not even missing home. Is it wrong that I’ve not called home and complained or whined about status quo? I guess not. Lagta hain ki hum mature ho gaye. I’ve started to understand that complaining isn’t going to change anything. So I’d rather waste time doing something else less constructive. Yikes! I scare me these days. What next?
Normally, given another time and situation, I’d be terribly proud of myself and not perturbed one bit. But the last two days are getting on my nerves. I’m finally sick of this 5 star hotel food. I just am. The soul in me is shocked that the heart is sick of opulent food. The delicious chicken and sea food is starting to annoy me. And the whole ‘living out of your suitcase’ bit isn’t as charming as I thought it would be. I’m rotating the same bunch of clothes day after day so as to not to take out the entire suitcase and spread all the junk I’ve been carrying around. I’ve shifted 5 hotels and resorts in the last month. And living out of the suitcase is getting annoying.
I think I’m doing this wrong. Rockstars get 5 star suites and generally don’t have to share their rooms with 2 other guys. (Unless of course they are into guys…). They don’t have to worry about laundry and the fact that the wi-fi connection isn’t any good in the room. Not to mention that their eyes don’t pop out of their sockets when they stare at how much room service costs. I actually paid 300 bucks for a burger. It was not worth it. Not to forget the limitless bounty of alcohol and women. (Dream on Mr.Murthy…Dream on !)
Instead, I’m sitting in the reception late into the night trying to comprehend the relevance of normal distribution curves and their relevance in the future. The only possible solace is the fleeting glimpse of the fairly good looking firang lady who sings at the bar, where the alcohol is super expensive and I shall not dream of entering. Alas, woe is I ! This isn’t the rockstar dream or the life I was looking forward to. I’m not completely miffed by the current state of affairs. I believe this is all preparation for the future. But honestly, at least I could have got my own room. People close to me know the whole history behind me and sharing of rooms. I guess karma has gone full circle. And full mental too.
And I feel bad that I’m not even missing home. Is it wrong that I’ve not called home and complained or whined about status quo? I guess not. Lagta hain ki hum mature ho gaye. I’ve started to understand that complaining isn’t going to change anything. So I’d rather waste time doing something else less constructive. Yikes! I scare me these days. What next?
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