Oblivious Smiles

By Aemaz ur Rehman (2015-20)

Humans innately fantasise past as something more majestic than the present or the future. We hear the veterans in the colourful black and white world , overdrawn with a shading pencil of dry wood to mesmerise colourless minds, say that time was when rainbow was certain to follow each rain. Time was when grass had it's green from the soil. Time was when the flower ere fruit was the grin of an apple tree.
I believe them, all. I say this 'cause the bygone months in our stay here in a place carrying in its fortifications the impressions of intuitions-to-be, have brought oblivious smiles- often amplified to grins.
Walking through that zero point road, desiccated with a thick golden carpet of serrate or crenate leaves, obstructed with chunks of falling red unappetising candies, I wondered if these roads will live when I come here. I was replied on my first day and replied convincingly. They lived from the very first day, though eventual.

Piled upon us was a smaller dome of KE cut into coins of unequal thickness each destined to be a resident of Zubair Book Centre's drawer. This gave way to the regional and applied "Red Chilli (BD)" , the more stouter "Giant/Guyton"  and the relatively soother "Green Mushtaq". (Lippincott falls somewhere in between. So do the other ones) 

'I stumbled upon a shiny dome, I named it priceless. But I never knew the cost, I never knew the cost'. :p Didn't get what the lectures had for my hippocampus to offer, as had been narrated by the seniors, so just went with the flow till I came to know which subjects I actually had to study.

Then it was all too easy......
not for students like me, but the "theetas". We always had to ask what subject we were taught about. It was the Cell Module by the way, just to clean that hot air blown chilly mirror.
A picture from the cell module I assume, not sure of the subject though.

Classes were never boring to be honest, our class always had something to offer when it came to the lectures- from the zoo animals to the nerdy ones, all. On the other hand, ragging was. Not in the first place, but yeah, doing all that ^traditional stuff" did actually make us feel like Di'Caprio till he finally grabbed his gold-plated brittanium. (Not me though. I enjoyed it every single time)

It was all getting mundane till we entered the
room with mum and still benefactors lying at a distance far enough so as to avoid each other's formalin smell,  as the sun shone through the tinted glass speckled with impressions of construction mud. The DH was like a cake with five to six cherries on top, each cadaver being a cherry, ready to satiate the questers. Meanwhile everyone pouncing over that one cherry. Dissection was kinda pure practical thing done thoroughly without a slightest chance of skipping and it was new, so we as firstulas had quite a lot of fervour.

The life at KEMU had already brought myriads of oblivious smiles when the societies jumped in like Ramos in 2015 UCL to add to it's beauty. From a tortuous verbal ride of KEDS to the physical drill sports society brought in, everything seemed so befitting. Except for the fact that there was less time more societies, all was good. They were sth. new for us so we jelled in every society but eventually realised that better be master of one trade than jack of all.

Batch parties was sth. we came up with for the very first time in the history of KEMU. What we did was splitting up into four batches and every batch coming up with its unique ways of finding reasons to smile.

And then the best Welcome ever, the events. Ahh! One after the other. Like a train with multiple stops but always going. The pseudo sports week glamoured with theme day, funfair, movie night, lights of hope and what not, is always going to be deep into our neurons since we came up as a surprise package in Interclass Dramatics, standing third, beating second and third year.

All in all, it's been time we regret for being part of our memory. The four months in KE have urged me to say already
"Best for a reason"
I still wonder if it's a dream. A dream with a sky full of stars , stars unknowingly steering some child astray in the darkness prevalent enough to black out his mother's white 'drained of energy' shawl. Stars not light enough, but light. Seeing this I wonder KE is one of them. A star, a pentagram with five  strokes, the five (arbitrary) domes of KE being the raw gases that shape it up.


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