MICA — The only story I couldn’t sell.
“I made a new friend here!”, I said to my mother as a usual concern popped up of meeting new people and adapting to this utopian land.
Every night at 2145 hours she used to call me, lecture me on how to pick people, carefully observe them and then open up. It was like I was 16 again, it felt nostalgic. Above all, while she was constantly iterating the terms like take your time, don’t trust people so easily and other mature ways to tackle life, I was busy giggling with my friend.
I don’t remember where it all started but I remember, We met at the gate while I was entering the premises and he was there observing everyone. We exchanged glances, this didn’t stop there. We often crossed each other’s paths as we went on to explore the campus.
The orientation began, colorful cushions at Mani Iyer, the white marble stage all representing the diversity that had knocked again at MICA’s door and was ready to unite as one in the coming 24 months. He was there behind me sitting all mum and observing people around.
The guest lectures, morning breakfast, proximity to the girl’s hostel, independence everything made me dream about things I could be a part of here while sipping my tea at 4 in the morning at chhota. There I met him, lying on the cot he was trying to decipher my thoughts. We spoke till the peacocks alarmed us of the time.
Since then we used to hang out together at chhota every night, I used to narrate the conversations to my mother, the lectures had subsided. The past incidents at MICA, the superhero staff, the story behind every building made from red bricks, the bench near chhota, the bougainvillea near the well he knew stories of them all. He knew the legacy that my hostel Palaash maintained and how it blushed in red on seeing Parijaat sitting right beside him. He beamed up as he narrated the events like culturalization, OORJA, MICANVAS, SAMAR, E-Summit, TEDx which will keep me engaged all around the year. I might have sleepless nights, yet I would see my dreams shaping up during the daytime. He religiously praised the curriculum, KEIC and told that everyone here had a story. It has been a month at MICA and I have characters, instances already lined up to be mentioned in my story. I believe MICA will teach me to sell every other story, not this.
Sorry! I forgot to tell his name, he is Maykaa.
