In Search of Lost Time
For more months than I can care to count now, life’s been a series of hard, unrewarding toils, trials and tribulations. An extended spate of failed endeavours, half measures, backstabbing, exhaustion, the occasional exhilaration, jugaad , meetings, rage, hopelessness, helplessness and what all. Recently there’s been this obsession with the idea of all these efforts culminating into one giant release at Waves, which, apart from being the most kick-ass thing we could hope to organise in less than half the time an annual cultural festival should be done in, shall also be a confluence of bedraggled coordinators finally letting it ALL out, enjoying to their wits’ end, staying perhaps buzzed, drunk, stoned or just energetic at the festival where they helped bring about so much. Whatever had happened in the months previous, let it slide; these three days will be the stuff to tell your children when they enter college, if not their children in turn. Until a couple of days ago, my plans were th...