this morning as i sat in my room, put together a work email, a cool draft grazed my neck. it comforted me and transported me back to the July of 2014. my first day at the ACJ hostel when my brother in law had come to drop me with some paltry luggage and a some books.

the lightness in the air, charged with the buzz of anything being possible, the milieu of the hostel, people rushing in and out for classes, or casually lolling around in the corridors discovering so many new lives around.

i would later, probably a week later realise, that the air smelled of the sea, so strong, so potent, it could alter your being. it was July, the weather supposed to be humid, the air pregnant with so many infections, yet i chose to wear my hair down. no matter how much i walked, how much i smoked, stayed awake, chatted, nothing would be enough. i would still be unable to experience that moment in time in its entirety.

everything seemed vast, so full, replete with the promise of being able to conquer it all. it rained in Delhi for two hours in two days and the weather got so alluring, making bashful, blushing brides of us all. the clement weather making us more human, slightly more accepting of the present life and times.

i think of the numerous roads i walked, the niceties exchanged, the memorable jokes, the movies, songs, oh all those Tamil ARR songs. from nenjukulle to innum konjam to naan nee to aathadi aathadi. all the friends who generously lent me their playlists, and others not friends, who welcomed me to their lives.

my roommate, her effervescent chatter, those long conversations with her, getting drunk and plopping on each other's shoulders. the friends who stayed the night in hostel rooms, the nagging commenting by some, the vacation planning, all that taking photos, plotting about attending the theatre festival, purchasing marlboro lights, gutter market, coffee and biscuits.

all those orange bars, those afternoon naps after lunch and before class, the various threads of conversations with several friends. ACJ was the place where i experienced so much freedom for the first time. some friends became close, some got distant, some remain distant yet close to the heart, with some there are sweet mellifluous remembrances. a gamut of relationships, no matter how much i sang, smoked, drank, ate, chatted, i was always afraid i wouldn't be able to get a grasp at it all.

“If memories could be canned, would they also have expiry dates? If so, I hope they last for centuries.” — Chungking Express (1994)

the beaches, the handholding with friends, losing slippers to the waves, getting drenched each time and then walking to MASH to get some grilled steak and burger. the planned walks to SPACES, the friends with whom we went downstairs to give laundry, and others to whom we passed on our laundry from the first floor window, the mad mad rains, the crazy AS classes, the ever expansive, accommodating library, where i discovered a new something every time i went there.

revisiting these memories from a surreal past feels like entering the ambit of classes attended, ones bunked, ones planned for, i feel like leaving my world as we know it behind and experience a daydream made out of rich technicolour experiences.

“Sometimes you think you have forgotten everything, that the rust and dust of the years have destroyed all the things we once entrusted to their voracious appetite. But all it takes is a noise, a smell, a sudden unexpected touch, and suddenly all the alluvium of time sweeps pitilessly over us, and our memories light up with all the brilliance and fury of a lightening flash.” — Julio Llamazares