The scary evening

Kedar hostel was fussy about the hushes of ragging séance. Nuances were there but a general coolness and friendliness was survived among the first year batch. We were having an amusing time plied by the absence of seniors for the first time. Cricket was one of the most dearly time pass and even TT hit big craze among a lot. We had come back from our winter vacation and the rest of college peers were still delighting at their homes. It was for the first time, we-the freshers could see the sky instead of the stones dwelted on the streets.
I was having an all time BC in Suchir’s room with all time gr8 guys. The chatters in GBPEC have always been the most flattering and the most rocking. It was around 5 PM and the day had passed effortlessly as ever. I got a call from somebody. There was a cluster of some girls around Naveen’s shop. With no exception, the gals were from our batch. The gals wanted me to join them. The angels are anticipating and if you have the set wet deo, I bet the wind blows for you. I was ill-fated that set wet was not on hand but lucky that they also were not angels. Anyways gals are out of the ordinary for boys. I washed my face and cleaned with a new Bombay Dying towel. Stepping down through the Kedar stairs had always been petrified with the slap sounds. But this was a diverse time and the sensations were different.
I reached the hypothetical love arena. Shall I soon have a girl friend if one of them proposes me for the eternal love? Shall I have a rational to visit Pauri or even Ghurdaudi beyond Durga’s carom shop…? I doubt if you have such a state of affairs and your mind could stop thinking about some heavens. I could smell the aroma spreading in the oxygen around. “How dare you call a girl like that and abuse her?”, was the first reverberation I could hear. “Don’t you have mother or a sister” is usually the second sentence when the gals are in form to blast any innocent guy. Then all of them seemed like Jhaansi ki Rani for a single guy like me. Even the English troops couldn’t bear one, God…How could I swallow so many? Nikita(name changed) was yelled from the B block of Kedar gharana with some abuses or what, I couldn’t comprehend. The grounds to find me as a crook was my natural way of imitation, but was it something for which I could be hanged. Believe me, when the gals gather and shout, it’s typically lethal and there is no break away from it. I tried my best to induce them that the fault was their but not mine or at least of some third person. When the situations are not good for you, even George Bush can lose a battle against Nepal. My stipulation was similar and my trials were all made to result but rubbish and futile.
It was a big head ache after facing this much. I’ld like to declare Nikita’s name for the Lead-Times Of India for the outlook leaders of India. Later I came to know who the person was at the back, but it makes no intellect at all. And it’s not an offense by any court to make fun of a gal by just telling her name even if from the window of a boys hostel. I don’t know what the gals agnized and they all were sorry later, I don’t think for their act but for my defiance. J