‘Bright college days, oh, carefree days that fly,
To thee we sing with our glasses raised on high
Let’s drink a toast as each of us recalls…’
-Lehrer Tom
Pass out at the stroke of daylight and snooze on till the noon, wake up to grab some thing and pass out again and do it again and do it again and again till you are thrown into a rosy-dosy world. Report to work sharp at 9, in a neat and trimmed look. Slog your ass off round the clock and return back drop-dead only to hit the sack.
Time changes but it has bloody jumped the gun, this time round. It sucks when you see those pounds growing in your belly and gives you that uncle-wala look. It sucks when you party at the best of the places in town with your tie loosened a bit and the sleeves rolled upto two wraps. You feel like hitting your balls hard every time you flip out your Blackberry with those business messages even as you sip your Scotch. And it sucks awfully when your wardrobe has cornered all your UCBs, NIKEs and the PUMAs with all the formal shirts and trousers.
Once upon a time I dreamt to be this. But now as I have lived my dream, I no more want to be in dribs and drabs again.
Why did I graduate? It shucks to be a naukri-wala-uncle.
It sucks, No, seriously, it does.
