The Story begins. Day 1

I was a never a front bencher. Neither a last bencher. I was more of a diplomat, right in the centre. The smart ass having fun without having to answer pesky questions from the lecturers.  I had my own small group of friends, some from my CBSE school. Us, CBSE schoolers were always considered as snobs-the English speaking geeks, never to mix with the other more local crowd.

As far as I knew, I was just damn scared of the locals, never knew what they were up too and it was in my best interests to keep my distance. Talking just for a hi or hello and at the most moving with their group to the college gates. My only social interaction in college would be on the basketball court. I was good. Not great but good enough to be noticed by my seniors. And that used to be my college life. Walk to college from my PG and then walk back by 6.30 in the evening.

I used to stay in a PG about 1 km away from College in Udupi. Not a big distance in those days. Saturdays and Sundays used to be spent in my room washing clothes and reading books. Of course with a pocket money of Rs 500, you couldn't afford to do much either!!! So the library also became a favorite haunt.

Out of my two roomies one was a senior from another college. He was the one who got me the room, so I was indebted to him. However he was the last bencher types and had a steady girlfriend so he would only pull me along when he wanted to smoke or wanted company to the bus station.

I was born and educated abroad, in Bahrain. And I loved it there. We were members of the Kannada sangha club there, and twice or thrice a week we would be at the club. My parents played darts while I ran around the place with my friends, playing soccer with crushed "RC Cola" cans. Anyways, more on that later. My parents decided that I needed to be schooled in India for some reason, and I came down to a nice little CBSE school in Brahmavar and joined the hostel; after staying for a short time with my mom in Udupi. But that was only for 6 months.

Hostel was a terror for me for the 1st two years. 7th and 8th standard. Then on it was a nice time having fun. My parents came back in 2000 and settled down in a nice small town away from the ruckus of the city. So that meant I had to continue staying in some mode of accommodation in the city to further my education. So back to college.

Life wasn't cool in college. We had dreams and then we had dreams. Everything would turn out great and we would be rocking by the time I completed my BBM, getting to none less than IIM's or the Harvard's of the world. Little did I know that things don't happen just like that. Instead fate has a way of kicking your booty around till you get back to your senses. And that's how it all started....

(This post is going to be series from a new story that I am starting today. Readers can read the posts to this story in the Label titled The Story from the labels section. This story is inspired by the many NRI kids who come to India and try to find their true identity. A large part of this story is from my life. Any names, or references to anything or anyone existing or existed, or similar is purely coincidental. I you dont believe that go FISH!!!)

(Mean while I will continue my regular blogging on the same blog, but under different labels.)