Travails of an Uncertain Scholar

It was the 13th of June 2015. Dantis had sent a message that he had boarded the train from Kanhangad . It was late in the afternoon. The summer heat was sucking me dry. The refrigerator and the air conditioner were my constant companions. Nithya had called me for her birthday party in the night and I had to go to the church before the party. The heat was making me lazy and I dozed off on the sofa with a glass of cold Frooti on the table and a book in hand. An hour later I woke up with a jerk, and realized that it was time to go to church. I rushed off to the bathroom, took a bath and few minutes later I was riding my trusty Thunderbird towards the church. I parked the bike outside the church and walked. Just then Nithya came out of the church and asked if I could give a ride to her home as dinner had arrived. We towed the hot box into the kitchen, opened it, and inspected its contents. It looked and smelled great. We want back to the church and the priest was still droning on. I

The first thing that struck me about Mangalore was the slow pace of life. The whole city seemed to be in sync with a slow monotonous walk. The college, the people, the shops , the buses! Nobody seemed to be in a hurry. You wouldn't find buses running at six in the morning or after nine in the night. Tea shops which I knew to be open throughout the night used to shut down by ten. College started only at nine in the morning and closed in the late afternoon at around three. The initial few months were a little difficult to digest. The city was far too small to be called as 'city'. I could almost walk around Mangaluru in a little over four hours. The initial few days went on with the exploration of the city, its malls, beaches, restaurants. Midnight walks were lonely as the roads were entirely deserted. The whole city looked like a ghost town. A nightlife in the city was non existent. The initial few days in the college were a little dry. Shinoj was the name of the guy sitt

In July 2014, I never had a thought of moving out of Chennai. My admission to Loyola was denied and I didn't have any backup plans. A few minutes of thinking and I recalled my journey with Leo to Mangalore. I remembered that there was a Jesuit Institution by the name St. Aloysius College. A few phone calls later, I had decided to move to Mangalore in a matter of few minutes. I had booked my train tickets and I was on my way to Mangalore the very next day. Being a Loyolite one would know that the admission procedure in Loyola is quite a long process involving a written examination and a personal interview, after which the result would be published online. That was where Aloysius had caught me off guard. I reached the college at 9 and I was asked to meet the Principal for admission. I was told the Principal would be available only at 9 30. While waiting to meet the Principal I saw a rather stern looking priest who was staring at every student who walked in late. It looked as thou