The Ugly Duckling

After the introspection from the FEA inspire I’ve now come back to college to follow that passionate love affair I once had with the 2D mesh of an SRM. Nowhere, of course things are different. My classmates who have always been there whenever I needed them are no longer with me. I’m reminded of a line from a poem ‘Now, the banquet halls are empty’. Ok, the line is wrong. I’ve located the poem and I’ll be adding the same at the end of my ramblings int his page. A beautiful piece by Thomas Moore. I’ve only just started on the work of design and as always my mind is shrieking about what should be the next logical step. It’s been a little more than a week since I joined back at SSN. The entire last week was spent in a sort of depressive silence. I felt that all of a sudden I had become an ugly duckling. Quite literally so. I had gained a lot of weight and hair looked worse than ever. The icing on the cake was that I had developed a severe allergy owing to bed bugs in my hostel room and that just showed up as big red pimples all over my face. The change in weather from Bangalore to Chennai is no easy task. For everyone who knows both places know that its literally self torture to come to Chennai from Bangalore in summer. Being Asian and given my age, the task at hand for all my relatives seems to be my marriage. And here I am, the ugly duckling, now fixated on trying to fix things before a match gets fixed ;).  In case I do transform into a swan I’ll let you know 🙂

Oft, in the Stilly Night

Oft, in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,
Fond memory brings the light
Of other days around me;
The smiles, the tears,
Of boyhood’s years,
The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone,
Now dimm’d and gone,
The cheerful hearts now broken!
Thus, in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain hath bound me,
Sad memory brings the light
Of other days around me.
When I remember all
The friends, so link’d together,
I’ve seen around me fall,
Like leaves in wintry weather;
I feel like one
Who treads alone
Some banquet-hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled,
Whose garlands dead,
And all but he departed!
Thus, in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,
Sad memory brings the light
Of other days around me.
Thomas Moore  
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