Post IV blues.

It's been too long, sir. Waaaaay too long. And what better time that the day before your prelims, to revisit? It's been eventful. It's been uneventful. It's been many things.

Funny, I haven't spoken about the trip at all. With my whole anti-college phase going on, I didn't think I'd be happy sitting in a train with 120 people, who I have to try very hard not to slap. Yes, I sometimes feel I'm cooler than a lot of people. Deal with it.
You know what I like the most about these college trips? They're absolutely random. You're packing your bag, calling all of your friends, making mental notes about what you're going to do. And then bam! The trip happens. And everything goes against your little plan. Sometimes it's just disastrous. But most of the time it's turns out to be surprisingly awesome.

I'm walking towards the hotel lobby from the gardens. There is a little lake on the way, with very noisy ducks inside. They were on sugar rush, I suppose (or whatever they get high on) and kept me distracted for a while. Good thing I didn't notice the empty swing that kept uniformly moving until I was almost out of the darkness. What is so strange about an empty swing moving in the darkness? Well, creepy to say the least, especially if the one next to it, isn't moving at all. Also, I should tell you this. There was no wind. Not even a bit.
I wanted to scream, but I ran instead. Adrenaline rush. All the way till I reached my room. Surely, I couldn't have imagined it. I go around telling the story. Ghost stories never fail to fascinate, no? At two a.m. in the morning, eight of us, in the middle of a 'tales of the Satan' session decide, nothing could possibly make this more fun than going ghost hunting at the hour of the Satan. What follows is a lot of screaming, nail biting, false alarms and panic attacks on the way to the scene of errr...horror.
The next day we discovered that the swing continues to move for atleast fifteen minutes after the swinger(what are they called) gets off the swing. But that night, we were so caught up in the frenzy, we lost every bit of our reasoning. And I'm so glad we did. We had one heck of an adventurous night.

Nothing beats drunks nights though. One minute you're in your room having shots and woo-ing like a mad woman and the next minute, you are... Okay, what happened next minute? Why won't somebody tell me? Actually you'd rather not. I don't want in detailed stories of how I embarrased myself. Let's just say two boys weren't enough to drag me back to my room. It took fours of them, a girl and a very awkward conversation in the lift. Oh btw, I was asleep when this happened. So I am in complete denial about all of this.
Clearly they couln't decide who was worse? A very annoying, shrill, shrieky, woman who kept wooooo-ing at random intervals, said way too many things, most of which made no sense at all, and embarrased a lot of other people by telling them who she wanted to set them up with (I am a matchmaker when I'm drunk). Also, I fell asleep on a random bench, somehwere along the way, with my hair all over my face. A lot of people mistook me for a ghost. Six and half shots of vodka. Two and a half shots of gin. Apparently, there is a lot alcohol can make you do.

And then I bonded with nice people, crashed random parties, spoke to a lot of people I had never spoken to before. I also danced around in circles like a mad woman on DJ night and scandalised every onlooker.

And I had decided none of this when I was packing.

I had my low-days and 'I want to kill somebody now' moments. I also, had my 'why did I come for this stupid trip?' moments.

But almost a month after the trip is over, the sweet aftertaste is all that remains.