Mera Pyaara Pink Patel

Manliness is overrated. So is the color pink. And so is the effect of one on the other.

A hall is known by its second years and what it makes of them, rather than the color of its walls. Appearances, as has been proven recurringly since the inception of the Hall, or Time, are deceptive. You may enter a bright white sparkling corridor and think it's a corridor to Heaven, or the insides of the White House, or Anup Bishnoi's Heart, or maybe a wormhole through space. But it could be any of those. You see, a pink Patel is, similarly, a deceptive visual.

A roar in the common room undoubtedly sounds as ferocious still as it did without the sheep thinking of the pink walls outside. It's, you see, just an arbitrary meaningless fact. That the tradition of a most traditional Hall of Residence, though, has been interfered with, is a most inexplicable event. I mean, who really thought of it? And who agreed? And who in heavens did let this mindless blasphemy, totally unimportant and irrelevant though it may be, really happen? Or maybe nobody really had a choice so to speak, this was just destiny waiting to happen, since a long long time.

A Pink Patel is still a Proud Patel. Notice the brilliant, totally inspirational use of apt and awesome alliteration right there. That's the stuff of legendary jingles that motivate a thousand generations. Of patelians. Yo Patel.