Three trucks of ....

Nostalgia?
Absurd is it not? But imagine if it were possible... I would have ordered three truckloads of nostalgia. There are times when you feel it, times when you want to be immersed into it, times when you wish you could spend some and make others nostalgic and this is such a time.
Let me see...
One truckload would consist of the days when I was in college spending quality time with friends and classmates, freaking out near Satyanarayan Park in front of an unmarked sweet shop with a bell hanging like the ones you can see in the temples. Oh! Those were the days when you could take extended hours of break from the same classroom that you had studied in for the last three years of graduation, a small mezzanine floor in some dark stairs' landing, where the space was renovated to make room for 30 odd desk-chairs for a privileged group of students who could afford to spend Rupees 1000 to study computer science in a rusty old college in the midst of a busy market.
We were a happy bunch of young people who had dreams and aspirations to make it big like the song papa kahtey hain bara naam karega…. Those long hours at the crampy and smelly common room where we played table tennis for hours or the swelteringly hot hardware laboratory, carved out from the projector room in the college auditorium… those were the days when nothing could have been better. I still remember the strange situation my college professors fell into when I greeted them good morning. Fresh out from the school and thinking in terms of the school discipline it was so weird to have bunked the first Bengali class. (I hope you are keeping a count, the truck is almost half-empty) … I remember the day when I had my first tryst with proper and authentic Bhaang from the sweet shop I had mentioned earlier. For the first hour nothing seemed amiss; then all of a sudden I felt my vision and powers of comprehension begin to play tricks on me, how light I felt… I had to be carried out of the college into a waiting taxi to be sent home with a classmate. I remember how I had the first so-called ragging in the hands of the SFI union where the perpetual Rajuda (who had been there when I joined the college and was still there when I left it 3 years later) had been furious at my disobedience and my strong denial to pay any SFI chandaa. I loved those days. Eating out at some unknown eatery and having a full-fledged adda over a coffee in the famous Coffee House I felt so much accomplished. The aspirations were simple and so were the dreams. Remembered how we planned a picnic that failed to materialize… The trip to Dakhineshwar, following some girl from college for a friend who was blown away by her appearance and beauty.
The second truckload would be for the days of my school and my school friends. The days of school are a joy forever. My first crush, the drama competition where things got very wrong, the games classes and the pranks… I wish now I was a school kid again with no worries about life and loads of time to play and loads of mischief to be made. I remember the first fight at school where I beat a boy half my size and then the severe punishment from the teacher, I remember the prize distribution ceremony from my fourth standard when I secured a third position among a sea of students … ha ha I remember it all. And this is pretty much all about my three trucks of Nostalgia…..
Now wait a minute you will say…
You might wonder… how come it finished so quick…. Well I shared it with you haven’t I? Don’t just lie my dear friend I am sure I did otherwise how come you are left with that dazed look on your face?