Organizing Committee

3rd October 2025,

Dear Diary,

It was raining like the sky had lost its mind — MG Bus Stand and Narayanguda were basically mini floods by morning. Everyone was like, “Navraas is cancelled, forget the dandiya, just stay home.” And me? I was secretly hoping it would still happen.

Then the OC dropped their iconic message in the WhatsApp group: “Rain? What rain? The event’s happening!” I stared at my phone for a solid minute, half impressed, half wondering if these people were secretly magicians — and if they even had a plan B if things got worse.

It rained nonstop the entire morning, and everyone just assumed the event was doomed. But just when hope started to fade, the sky suddenly cleared up. Honestly, it’s almost an inside joke now — whenever the OC is behind an event, it never rains. Be it Navraas or graduation day, the weather somehow listens to them. One of the members even confessed that he went to the temple that morning to pray for clear skies and maybe it actually worked.

The event turned out perfect. That smell after the rain just hit different; everything suddenly felt so fresh and alive. People were dancing, laughing, just lost it in the moment. The OC somehow had everything running so smoothly, like nothing could go wrong. No delays, no chaos, and the best part? We even got extra DJ time at the end. That’s what really made the night feel perfect.

While talking to one of the OC members in between the madness, I realized how calm and happy they looked even after days of sleepless work. They were running around fixing last-minute stuff, yet smiling like it was nothing. Watching the crowd enjoy every second made me understand how much effort these people hide behind their easy-going faces. Navraas felt like pure magic — except this time, I knew it was made of planning, teamwork, and a little OC madness.

While chatting with them, I realised organising an event was basically controlled chaos, and they somehow made it look effortless. They started sharing some pre-Navraas stories, and honestly, I couldn’t stop laughing.

Apparently, just a day before the event, they were roaming around Sultan Bazaar in the rain, finalising vendors. One of them got off his scooty, thinking the road was dry and boom, straight into a puddle of muddy water. Everyone just stood there laughing while he sat there, drenched and betrayed by the universe.

Then came the dessert stall story. They were hunting for dessert vendors near college when one of them suddenly said, “KMIT? I passed out from there!” Bumping into an alumnus selling desserts right before the fest — in the middle of all that rush.

But what really amazed me was how professional these people were. They were just a year older than me, yet they talked to vendors and negotiated like total pros. Meanwhile, I can’t even bargain with a tomato vendor without calling my mom for backup. When I said this, one of them laughed and said, “We were like that too till our seniors trained us.”

Every batch learns from the previous one: how to talk to vendors, how to save money, how to stay calm when everything goes wrong. Their seniors passed down not just contacts, but habits, hacks, and a certain standard to live up to. Being in OC comes with an unspoken rule: never let the name down.

They spoke about numbers, permissions, and backup plans so casually — like it was nothing — that it almost felt unreal. I just sat there listening, and suddenly it made sense why everything on the outside looked so effortless.

A day or two before Navraas, the rush finally began to slow down. Still, they stayed back a little longer — maybe just for the comfort of being together after weeks of madness. They sat near the basketball court, music playing softly, everyone half-tired, but quietly happy.

Those evenings, college didn’t even feel like the same place. It was so calm and still, like the whole campus had finally fallen asleep after all that madness. For the first time in days, everything just stopped. 

Somewhere between the random gossip, teasing, and tired smiles, it hit them that the event they'd been losing sleep over for weeks was finally just hours away. Every late night, every mini breakdown, every moment of panic — it all suddenly made sense. Under the faint campus lights, surrounded by the others, I finally felt that everything was exactly where it was meant to be.

Sometimes we forget that the best parts of college aren’t marks or deadlines, but the quiet, unexpected moments that stay with you long after the day ends. Navraas felt like one of those moments — created by people who usually stay far away from the spotlight.

OC is the team behind the curtain; without them, there wouldn’t even be a show. I’m thankful for how they turn chaos into memories and stress into laughter. Navraas might fade with time, but this warm mix of pride and gratitude is something that’s going to stay with me for a long time.