Desires were out to be thrown and the black was worn. 3 batches together got the grade to be called future engineers. Clad in the Samrat Kilvis attire we had just received from the concerned, Sandy Sir was our cheer leader and we were roving around the big funny auditorium. Banauda sir was busy doing his own stunts though similar to Yana’s for Babuji … and the night was the blender’s pride all the same for drinks, BC and just fuck*** core damn dance. I had gone with Khulbe and Devli to Bamrada’s restaurant for the pegs under the sky, which was never changed in those 4 years, staring and laughing at us and a true vigilant of the suckers. We had sleeping arrangements in NBH hostel for a good sum of big buddy bucks. Again came the pegs in picture and it was Khulbe who got me much more than I could ever manage to swallow. It seemed to have no ends and I could listen people shouting…some people were outcrying as well..God knows for what reason may be the all private emotions with the college and the colleagues…Then I just remember Suchir helped me to puke out the glory out of a struggling stomach. Sachin Joshi was been a big sanjosh along with several others to do the nasty try of vomiting…Next day was the convocation and I could feel a complete burst of madira drops inside. Finally I had to finger..(I hate fingering though..) inside my mouth and get the dust out as possible. The pride moments were never far and we got our degrees, and those moments got trapped by several cameras and we were now legal demolishers (so called engineers) to annihilate the world with our lethal technologies…
The biggest moment of my college days was yet to come. Most of the new born engineers had left the college for good but some had a liitle more interest to dwell further in the GBPEC hostels. I had my delicate reasons as the mark sheet was to be corrected by bearing them 100 bucks.(Believe me it was a good money at college time to just throw for correcting their mistakes). We stayed there for 4 years, our love, our family our friends, our everything was that small campus and when it came for one night stay, the college staff had their fuck*** reasons for us not to stay anymore…..it was damn crazy…Somehow we managed as we had done throughout those days.
Shail (short name) was one of the guys who could enjoy till the end of dooms day and so it happened. He was one of the refugees in NBH hostel and getting sips of last minute drops of the heavenly drinks, of course these drinks were heavenly and made us feel to be Lord Indra in the beautiful clouds of Pauri hills. There was a sudden knock on the door and shail opened with passion….In front were not the Gods and he too was not a devotee. There stood 3 malicious teachers out side the room and banging for their sucking way of life. They wanted a pretty damn reason for staying in a junior’s room without an authorized permission from these builders of the earth..But alcohol always works and the OH part of it brings the life back even in the dead chaps..Shail started arguing and there was a slap sound within no seconds. Shail was hit by one of those Tridevs. Banauda Sir rushed from the near room with a knife in his hands…God it was not going to be a brutal History again. One of those Tridevs shouted it was not he who committed this crime…Everyone was shocked and the teachers were lil pissed off but more scared to death in front of their eyes.
It had always been Top down but a bottom up was never anticipated and imagined. Kukreti came along with other guys in a jeep booked from Pauri market and the teachers thought it was a gangsters group about to shoot them for winning performance as of future Bindra in Beijing’08. I was with Brij Bhandari and BD at that time and there came Mr Ravi Kumar…One of the teachers asked where he was heading towards..”Mandir ja raha hoon, chalna hai kya?”. It brought more frustration to them and one said this is not a discipline and then answer came “Gaa** mein le lo descipline”…There was no chance for any rhetoric performance for the Tridevs and they decided better to get lost in the jungle for ever and for ever and for ever…..
I remembered Mahabharat and felt it to be a true saying for "Yada Yada Hi Dharmasya…."
Monday, August 11, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
NAshedi mitr mandli
They say you know a person by the type of friends he has. Well, without being mean, I don’t think anyone can have any worse sons of bitches than I have had (I am sure they will return the compliment – more likely with more flashy words.)
Don’t know who to start with because shit is really shit - be it a dog shit or a monkey shit. Due to lack of time- these being my office hours and almost the time for lunch, will confine the discussion to my GBPEC batch mates -the seniors are again left out, as they themselves have to be showered with praises .
Categorising them is as difficult as picking up a winning combination in the IPL – unlike there, there is no cap on the players.
There are basically three vices a man can have – Nari Nasha and Netagiri. This dialog – I heard umpteen times from LMT who has himself mastered the first two.
Nashebaaj is the word I can categorise a majority of my friends. Billu Tappu were the ones who basically hand picked me for these vices. Still remember the night we three had three bottles- that too for no loss.Had some narrow escapes when came back from their room downstairs in Ddun.
Gullu was one of the worst things that happened to me, as unlike others he gave me ‘company’ even after I was inducted into the ‘professional’ league in Infy Mysore. We emtied all our pockets in the likes of Jewel Rock and Jungle Dhaba. Before him, these luxuries were confined to weekends, but he would come bumping in the room- giving a devilish smile that had WHISKEY written all over. Innocent as I am, I would always fall for his tricks. Daily we went for a fag immediately after gym.
Sanjosh was another player of the same ‘class’. He was a real asshole who,during our last days in college, tried to make everyone emotional every time he had a booze. Had to give him company on our last night out in college- the night preceding the convocation.
Jugaad, though the most helpful person I ever met had an equally important role in ruining me. Don’t know how, but he always managed to have some cash for ciggis and his favourite-the beedis. If you can get it anywhere, you will get it in his room was our motto – common for filtered water as well as smoke.
His neighbour Baba- the most Jaleel baba I have ever met or will ever want to meet. He was another rascal who was always willing to pitch in 50 bucks for a bottle or afive rupee coin for a smoke.
Gupta and Devli I feel are the two creatures who were tricked into all this- ditto my case. None of them could handle it. Specially Baniya, who always looked for poles to climb on. I don’t know how this notion creeped into his head that he may be able to climb the poles. Devli the ass always was around when you were having a smoke and almost consistently forgot to pass it on and many a times licked the filter. Am not sure if he has some secret wherein ciggi ‘tastes’ better.
Doctor was arguably another main villain. I spent most of my time in the last two semesters with him, and incidentally this was the time I went from amateur to professional. He never let go and with his constant supply he ensured that neither do I. In Bangalore, he again and again tested my patience, and ensured I don’t live ‘without’ it for long.
I am what I am because of all these people and some others I may have missed.(Deliberately missed out Hemu,Yogi and BD as they never really played villains compared to these hardcore veterans and at some point of time even tried to help me out of it.)
And now when I set my Orkut status as ‘Quit’ smoking and ‘Ocassionally’ drinking, these are the ones who laugh their heart out. It is altogether a different issue they know me better and know a pun was intended. Still – don’t I have the right to ‘Quit’ even in my thoughts?
Don’t know who to start with because shit is really shit - be it a dog shit or a monkey shit. Due to lack of time- these being my office hours and almost the time for lunch, will confine the discussion to my GBPEC batch mates -the seniors are again left out, as they themselves have to be showered with praises .
Categorising them is as difficult as picking up a winning combination in the IPL – unlike there, there is no cap on the players.
There are basically three vices a man can have – Nari Nasha and Netagiri. This dialog – I heard umpteen times from LMT who has himself mastered the first two.
Nashebaaj is the word I can categorise a majority of my friends. Billu Tappu were the ones who basically hand picked me for these vices. Still remember the night we three had three bottles- that too for no loss.Had some narrow escapes when came back from their room downstairs in Ddun.
Gullu was one of the worst things that happened to me, as unlike others he gave me ‘company’ even after I was inducted into the ‘professional’ league in Infy Mysore. We emtied all our pockets in the likes of Jewel Rock and Jungle Dhaba. Before him, these luxuries were confined to weekends, but he would come bumping in the room- giving a devilish smile that had WHISKEY written all over. Innocent as I am, I would always fall for his tricks. Daily we went for a fag immediately after gym.
Sanjosh was another player of the same ‘class’. He was a real asshole who,during our last days in college, tried to make everyone emotional every time he had a booze. Had to give him company on our last night out in college- the night preceding the convocation.
Jugaad, though the most helpful person I ever met had an equally important role in ruining me. Don’t know how, but he always managed to have some cash for ciggis and his favourite-the beedis. If you can get it anywhere, you will get it in his room was our motto – common for filtered water as well as smoke.
His neighbour Baba- the most Jaleel baba I have ever met or will ever want to meet. He was another rascal who was always willing to pitch in 50 bucks for a bottle or afive rupee coin for a smoke.
Gupta and Devli I feel are the two creatures who were tricked into all this- ditto my case. None of them could handle it. Specially Baniya, who always looked for poles to climb on. I don’t know how this notion creeped into his head that he may be able to climb the poles. Devli the ass always was around when you were having a smoke and almost consistently forgot to pass it on and many a times licked the filter. Am not sure if he has some secret wherein ciggi ‘tastes’ better.
Doctor was arguably another main villain. I spent most of my time in the last two semesters with him, and incidentally this was the time I went from amateur to professional. He never let go and with his constant supply he ensured that neither do I. In Bangalore, he again and again tested my patience, and ensured I don’t live ‘without’ it for long.
I am what I am because of all these people and some others I may have missed.(Deliberately missed out Hemu,Yogi and BD as they never really played villains compared to these hardcore veterans and at some point of time even tried to help me out of it.)
And now when I set my Orkut status as ‘Quit’ smoking and ‘Ocassionally’ drinking, these are the ones who laugh their heart out. It is altogether a different issue they know me better and know a pun was intended. Still – don’t I have the right to ‘Quit’ even in my thoughts?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Independence Day at GBPEC....
The celebrations could never have been so daunting and moreover where the cornerstone paves the way to Indian Independence. In my infancies, the day used to be illustrious by the morning procession, the slogans brought by our freedom battalions, followed by the National Anthem at 8AM and then the speech by the honourable Principle of school. The day used to go at the forefront with the colorful programs and the sweet dispersion. The jingoistic movies and songs based on Indian liberty played imperative role in bringing the fanaticism in millions of hearts.
Kedar Hostel was branded for lionizing any occupation with the highest scale of gratification. The night of 14th August 1947 is the most memorable and the most significant night in the Indian history for quite lot millenniums. But for me it has been so in the history of Kedar hostel in decades. The hostel belonged to both boys and girls, but to no luck it had two separate wings. A Block could be the top-security prison to keep boys, while they could steal a look at the cloud nine as B block accommodated angels.
Stillness doesn’t make sagacity when it comes to celebrate the Independence Day function. The mob of entire college was in its mood and “Bharat Mata ki Jai” could be heard at every place. Students had organized for sweets and dance and no where there was an obligation to be a part of dry day or a dry night. Masti was at its full gust, though the obsession was for 57th anniversary of our sovereignty from English.
All of a sudden the National slogans curved their configuration, and the angels’ names could be heard in place of the never-forgettable freedom fighters. The name “Bharat” got superseded by some girl name(X) and the slogan could be heard as “X Mata ki Jai!!!”. The stipulation was being paid with more severity when some basic necessities such as Roti, Kapda aur Makaan were appended with the names of some of the girls. The tempo was established and the air occupied more sound waves with high decibels counting the time to live in a free atmosphere. The entire night had been fanatical to such slogans and possibly the flag of upshot had been raised at the red fort of GBPEC…
The crack of dawn for the next day was not hypothetical to be an ordinary day and the Sun might have glown with more lustrous colors than it habitually does. The freedom was attained with no battles but the aftermath had to bolt hard on some minds, some acts and some near past. I am still dazed when I remind of the pecking order in the list of priorities in the college students mind space. Engineering colleges are for ever and a day well known for activities like that and so are their discipline comities. The voices had been recognized but not for all sure and the punishments could always be at hands when it comes to the judiciary system of India and the victims are girls.
The night has never faded its color in my mind and it always reminds me of the acts and facts that are feasible only in an Engineering college. The life goes on but some reminiscences never get languished by the time passes and the circumstances are never brought back with any theorem of Time-Machine……
Kedar Hostel was branded for lionizing any occupation with the highest scale of gratification. The night of 14th August 1947 is the most memorable and the most significant night in the Indian history for quite lot millenniums. But for me it has been so in the history of Kedar hostel in decades. The hostel belonged to both boys and girls, but to no luck it had two separate wings. A Block could be the top-security prison to keep boys, while they could steal a look at the cloud nine as B block accommodated angels.
Stillness doesn’t make sagacity when it comes to celebrate the Independence Day function. The mob of entire college was in its mood and “Bharat Mata ki Jai” could be heard at every place. Students had organized for sweets and dance and no where there was an obligation to be a part of dry day or a dry night. Masti was at its full gust, though the obsession was for 57th anniversary of our sovereignty from English.
All of a sudden the National slogans curved their configuration, and the angels’ names could be heard in place of the never-forgettable freedom fighters. The name “Bharat” got superseded by some girl name(X) and the slogan could be heard as “X Mata ki Jai!!!”. The stipulation was being paid with more severity when some basic necessities such as Roti, Kapda aur Makaan were appended with the names of some of the girls. The tempo was established and the air occupied more sound waves with high decibels counting the time to live in a free atmosphere. The entire night had been fanatical to such slogans and possibly the flag of upshot had been raised at the red fort of GBPEC…
The crack of dawn for the next day was not hypothetical to be an ordinary day and the Sun might have glown with more lustrous colors than it habitually does. The freedom was attained with no battles but the aftermath had to bolt hard on some minds, some acts and some near past. I am still dazed when I remind of the pecking order in the list of priorities in the college students mind space. Engineering colleges are for ever and a day well known for activities like that and so are their discipline comities. The voices had been recognized but not for all sure and the punishments could always be at hands when it comes to the judiciary system of India and the victims are girls.
The night has never faded its color in my mind and it always reminds me of the acts and facts that are feasible only in an Engineering college. The life goes on but some reminiscences never get languished by the time passes and the circumstances are never brought back with any theorem of Time-Machine……
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
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
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
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Memorable evening
In GBPEC, there was practically no source of entertainment other than movies. Life was worse for teachers, as not all movie cds were worth sharing with teachers . So, Mr N had devised an ultimate entertainer for himself. Get hold of a couple of students( freshers preferred) and monotonously keep on talking. It was not a conversation, rather was a broadcast- a one sided affair. If he was in a good mood, you could get a leechi toffee for your efforts.
On that particular day, he got hold of the whole fresher batch while we were enjoying the evening Samosas. ‘Its you who is to be blamed for ragging’. ‘If you refuse to give ragging and report the senior who rags, this evil can be stopped for ever’.
I practically laughed it off. I was sure even Sir would have forgotten what all he bragged even before he left the mess. But in the audience, one person was totally convinced that today sir was speaking sense. It was Tappu. He was all charged up and came straight to our Bermuda triangle. “We wont.. Who is with me”. Tanuj and Chaube promptly agreed. After exchanging smiles, I and Billu said yes too. To be true, I suspected this was one of Tappu’s frenzies, wherein he makes a decision and whoever challenges his decision is treated as an enemy. Hardly did I know that a revolution was triggered by the boring speech.
We had a couple of peaceful hours. N. sir was still in his room.As long as he was there, we the residents of A block had no fear. It was never hard to figure out his presence in - As long as he was there, one could hear ‘Tum dil ki dharkan me….’.
But lo..Bang at the door. In come 3 seniors. Holy cow... How in the hell did they get in? All of us were staring at our third button. But Tappu had made up his mind. I don’t remember who the seniors were, but I am sure they were not the usual raggers, and were real pussies. The fault of Tappu was sufficient to have his rear part ripped apart ,as per the Prophecy , translated into English which says "His ass would be cut off..." (strange ehh.... so did we feel. How can anyone have such an imagination.) – though the biggest task in hand would have been to sarch for it.
Their focus was now on Tappu. They started with the usual stuff - all poems, intros this that(I don’t know why all poems n intros were designed in such a way that the fresher would feel so low that he would almost hate his very existence). We all were terrified and thinking this might well be the end of the ‘King in making’- Yuvraj as we called him.
Out of nowhere, one of them placed a pen on floor and challenged Tappu“Lift it by ass”. I could see Tappu beaming on hearing this. This was an easy one. Tappu lifted the pen from its back part. Instantly the senior started shouting….’£$”£$$’ ‘£$’ ‘%$^%^ ’“Is this ass? Can a pen have ass??? ‘Lift it using your own ass’. This was unfair – Tappu had outsmarted the shit-head. But there is a saying ‘Senior is never wrong’. So, even though this senior was some real dumb ass, he did deserve that respect. Moreover, rules are meant to be manipulated- specially The rules of Ragging.
Tappu paused for a moment- but after realising that he had to do as told to save his ass, he crawled on floor to get the pen. As expected, he failed. I often wonder whether someone having a healthier pair of ass could have picked it. It was really tough I guess. The objective of the seniors was fulfilled. They had humiliated their target. After boring us for some more time, they left, again threatening us not to let the thought of Freedom or revolution linger anywhere close to ourselves.
As soon as they were out of block, we were all laughing our heart out. Tappu was fuming and cursing all of us for our cowardice. But the picture of Tappu wriggeling on floor, fresh in our minds, we were all laughing like hyenas. Out of nowhere, Tappu leaped at me and caught my collar. That was totally unexpected. Before I could react, he was out of the room, threatening us not to talk to him.
Tappu took 2-3 week to talk to others. But I could not muster enough courage to face him before 2 months. I am still sorry for the revolution that could never be and the revolutionary who was deserted by his very friends. But.....hehe.....He knows I love him.
On that particular day, he got hold of the whole fresher batch while we were enjoying the evening Samosas. ‘Its you who is to be blamed for ragging’. ‘If you refuse to give ragging and report the senior who rags, this evil can be stopped for ever’.
I practically laughed it off. I was sure even Sir would have forgotten what all he bragged even before he left the mess. But in the audience, one person was totally convinced that today sir was speaking sense. It was Tappu. He was all charged up and came straight to our Bermuda triangle. “We wont.. Who is with me”. Tanuj and Chaube promptly agreed. After exchanging smiles, I and Billu said yes too. To be true, I suspected this was one of Tappu’s frenzies, wherein he makes a decision and whoever challenges his decision is treated as an enemy. Hardly did I know that a revolution was triggered by the boring speech.
We had a couple of peaceful hours. N. sir was still in his room.As long as he was there, we the residents of A block had no fear. It was never hard to figure out his presence in - As long as he was there, one could hear ‘Tum dil ki dharkan me….’.
But lo..Bang at the door. In come 3 seniors. Holy cow... How in the hell did they get in? All of us were staring at our third button. But Tappu had made up his mind. I don’t remember who the seniors were, but I am sure they were not the usual raggers, and were real pussies. The fault of Tappu was sufficient to have his rear part ripped apart ,as per the Prophecy , translated into English which says "His ass would be cut off..." (strange ehh.... so did we feel. How can anyone have such an imagination.) – though the biggest task in hand would have been to sarch for it.
Their focus was now on Tappu. They started with the usual stuff - all poems, intros this that(I don’t know why all poems n intros were designed in such a way that the fresher would feel so low that he would almost hate his very existence). We all were terrified and thinking this might well be the end of the ‘King in making’- Yuvraj as we called him.
Out of nowhere, one of them placed a pen on floor and challenged Tappu“Lift it by ass”. I could see Tappu beaming on hearing this. This was an easy one. Tappu lifted the pen from its back part. Instantly the senior started shouting….’£$”£$$’ ‘£$’ ‘%$^%^ ’“Is this ass? Can a pen have ass??? ‘Lift it using your own ass’. This was unfair – Tappu had outsmarted the shit-head. But there is a saying ‘Senior is never wrong’. So, even though this senior was some real dumb ass, he did deserve that respect. Moreover, rules are meant to be manipulated- specially The rules of Ragging.
Tappu paused for a moment- but after realising that he had to do as told to save his ass, he crawled on floor to get the pen. As expected, he failed. I often wonder whether someone having a healthier pair of ass could have picked it. It was really tough I guess. The objective of the seniors was fulfilled. They had humiliated their target. After boring us for some more time, they left, again threatening us not to let the thought of Freedom or revolution linger anywhere close to ourselves.
As soon as they were out of block, we were all laughing our heart out. Tappu was fuming and cursing all of us for our cowardice. But the picture of Tappu wriggeling on floor, fresh in our minds, we were all laughing like hyenas. Out of nowhere, Tappu leaped at me and caught my collar. That was totally unexpected. Before I could react, he was out of the room, threatening us not to talk to him.
Tappu took 2-3 week to talk to others. But I could not muster enough courage to face him before 2 months. I am still sorry for the revolution that could never be and the revolutionary who was deserted by his very friends. But.....hehe.....He knows I love him.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
My tryst with Sulpha
Back in the autumn of 2004, Engineers day was round the corner. Unfortunate me n doc, being the unfortunate ISTE losers were loitering in Pauri.... going from one fucking DJ to another. Now I wonder why were we so concerned to save money..... Means Fuck me man... I was not spending anything from my pocket.... then why the heck give myself the torture of walking 5-6 Km.
A brilliant idea struck my mind.... Why not pick up some OldMonk on our way back...(Back then Old monk was the only luxury we could afford other than 8PM). Doc.. I love him for it.. just does not know how to say no when the it has something to do with boozing.We emptied our pockets.... some 150 odd ruees.. what the fuck... KLPD.
To our rescue, we see an approaching jeep.... Cheeku and Sandy sir are waving... as if they knew all our plans were screwed.. this time it was Doc's turn of being struck by lightening idea....he starts waving for the jeep to stop.. I join him ...all Jeepwallas somehow knew Doc... they had all given him a ride back from some place or another late in evenings when he was totally out.. So the jeep screeches next to us.Doc asks them for money Cheeku offers. Reluctantly Sandy sir also says he has 100bucks.Fuck Cheeku man... he is a juniour.. we'll have to return him the money..Sandy sir , no need to pay him back.We take 100 bucks ..move on.. get two quarters.Will have it in room..cheap n luxurious.Plus it has been a whilesince we had a one on one conversation.
All set.. lights off, candle lit. have all the intellect conversation (The best thing I like drinking with Doc is that we dont discuss girls....its a sort of unsaid rule.)Another thing ..this one I hate about drinking with him... saali kabhi poori nahi hoti....We were having our second last peg... bang bang bang..Doc, is someone banging the door?Ya..I'll check.Are Holy Crap..its Devli...Fuck off Devli.As usual,Devli was upset..No one says him to Fuck off.. Its his proprietary.. only he tells others to Fuck off. After showering us with some unearthy abuses he tells us that Master was looking for us at his room. We finish off the remaining Rum.Chalo lets go n see why Master called.Hope its something useful as Doc gets pissed off easily and I am in no mood to buy shit either. Master was not yet Master.. he was a friendly seniour.. we can take him down and can easily blame Rum for that.
Enter the room of Devli and there is Master preparing a cigetette..(Preparing mind you)Looking at Doc's ear to ear grin, I am sure it is 'The thing'. Never had it before.. come'on man it is weird ..its insane. But now its too late to get any more alcohol.We are also running out of cigarettes.U can always say no to next puff. And most importantly, you have to give it a try.... Everyone is trying it.. it cant be total shit..Ok let us try.
I lie next to Master. He n Docs are veteran. They think its their responsibility to brief me about the 'Dos n Donts'. Fuck Ganja Mohan for it. He has made all these morons into preachers. Lying down, as I was about to figure out was the biggest Don't. Also, Dont have more than 3 puffs at a go. 'Pass on' is the name of the game. And 'passing on' I had been for almost 2 years now.In GBPEC, students rarely have money for vices so its a Rule you always share cigarettes. Be there just one more person to share or 2(as a matter of fact,I do remember sharing a ciggi btw 6 ppl) u always share and remember, everyone is equally entitled to the ciggi. No matter who pays for it, everyone has equal drags.
But Rum was taking its toll. We walked atleast 10 Km that day.. courtsey ISTE. That thaught came to my mind and I held on the ciggi. I thaught they pulled away the ciggi when I had only 2 puffs, but later I was told that I had atleast 6. I was lying down.My hands were feeling really heavy now. Is this what they called cloud no. 9? Never had this feeling after drinking spirits.Oh man I can not move. I need some fresh air. So, I moved out to the Balcony.
Fresh air. I love the feel of this Himalayan air man.GBPEC was so good, specially at night-the fresh air. But ho!! what is this? who is pulling me? I felt like someone is lifting my leg. Doc ! what is this?who is doing this? Doc n Master knew what was going on.They came rushing out. Pulled me off the edge.I was told next day, I was lifting my leg and trying to jump down the first floor balcony. It was not too much ofa height, but enough to break a couple of bones. And since we were doped to hell, we can not go n see doctor. Can't believe it.After that I started puking. Must have been a bucket-full when doc suggested we should go to Bistro and have a tea. Maybe that works.
Quite surprisingly, I was walking properly.Went to Bistro.Next thin I remember is I was back near the railing, puking again.
shit man.. this thing is really too hot to handle. I had been drinking for some 2 years and had puked many and many a times. There is no shame in admitting it. And I never felt bad that i puked. But this was not just another day. For the first time, a sense of helplessness was creeping in. Just like others, I also feel I have some setting with God. he is the first one I always remember when in trouble."God, please save me today...I promise I wont have it again. I know I should not have done this shit. I knew it was wrong.Please one more try."
Somehow, I think God was in mood to oblige me. I dont know where I slept or what happened after that. But, ppl told me I was totally out and puked at least a ton. I promised myself never to have it again. I am not good at keeping promises, but have broken this one only a couple of times. Really great going by my standards. Looking back, I feel lucky to have survived. But it was really hell of an experience.
A brilliant idea struck my mind.... Why not pick up some OldMonk on our way back...(Back then Old monk was the only luxury we could afford other than 8PM). Doc.. I love him for it.. just does not know how to say no when the it has something to do with boozing.We emptied our pockets.... some 150 odd ruees.. what the fuck... KLPD.
To our rescue, we see an approaching jeep.... Cheeku and Sandy sir are waving... as if they knew all our plans were screwed.. this time it was Doc's turn of being struck by lightening idea....he starts waving for the jeep to stop.. I join him ...all Jeepwallas somehow knew Doc... they had all given him a ride back from some place or another late in evenings when he was totally out.. So the jeep screeches next to us.Doc asks them for money Cheeku offers. Reluctantly Sandy sir also says he has 100bucks.Fuck Cheeku man... he is a juniour.. we'll have to return him the money..Sandy sir , no need to pay him back.We take 100 bucks ..move on.. get two quarters.Will have it in room..cheap n luxurious.Plus it has been a whilesince we had a one on one conversation.
All set.. lights off, candle lit. have all the intellect conversation (The best thing I like drinking with Doc is that we dont discuss girls....its a sort of unsaid rule.)Another thing ..this one I hate about drinking with him... saali kabhi poori nahi hoti....We were having our second last peg... bang bang bang..Doc, is someone banging the door?Ya..I'll check.Are Holy Crap..its Devli...Fuck off Devli.As usual,Devli was upset..No one says him to Fuck off.. Its his proprietary.. only he tells others to Fuck off. After showering us with some unearthy abuses he tells us that Master was looking for us at his room. We finish off the remaining Rum.Chalo lets go n see why Master called.Hope its something useful as Doc gets pissed off easily and I am in no mood to buy shit either. Master was not yet Master.. he was a friendly seniour.. we can take him down and can easily blame Rum for that.
Enter the room of Devli and there is Master preparing a cigetette..(Preparing mind you)Looking at Doc's ear to ear grin, I am sure it is 'The thing'. Never had it before.. come'on man it is weird ..its insane. But now its too late to get any more alcohol.We are also running out of cigarettes.U can always say no to next puff. And most importantly, you have to give it a try.... Everyone is trying it.. it cant be total shit..Ok let us try.
I lie next to Master. He n Docs are veteran. They think its their responsibility to brief me about the 'Dos n Donts'. Fuck Ganja Mohan for it. He has made all these morons into preachers. Lying down, as I was about to figure out was the biggest Don't. Also, Dont have more than 3 puffs at a go. 'Pass on' is the name of the game. And 'passing on' I had been for almost 2 years now.In GBPEC, students rarely have money for vices so its a Rule you always share cigarettes. Be there just one more person to share or 2(as a matter of fact,I do remember sharing a ciggi btw 6 ppl) u always share and remember, everyone is equally entitled to the ciggi. No matter who pays for it, everyone has equal drags.
But Rum was taking its toll. We walked atleast 10 Km that day.. courtsey ISTE. That thaught came to my mind and I held on the ciggi. I thaught they pulled away the ciggi when I had only 2 puffs, but later I was told that I had atleast 6. I was lying down.My hands were feeling really heavy now. Is this what they called cloud no. 9? Never had this feeling after drinking spirits.Oh man I can not move. I need some fresh air. So, I moved out to the Balcony.
Fresh air. I love the feel of this Himalayan air man.GBPEC was so good, specially at night-the fresh air. But ho!! what is this? who is pulling me? I felt like someone is lifting my leg. Doc ! what is this?who is doing this? Doc n Master knew what was going on.They came rushing out. Pulled me off the edge.I was told next day, I was lifting my leg and trying to jump down the first floor balcony. It was not too much ofa height, but enough to break a couple of bones. And since we were doped to hell, we can not go n see doctor. Can't believe it.After that I started puking. Must have been a bucket-full when doc suggested we should go to Bistro and have a tea. Maybe that works.
Quite surprisingly, I was walking properly.Went to Bistro.Next thin I remember is I was back near the railing, puking again.
shit man.. this thing is really too hot to handle. I had been drinking for some 2 years and had puked many and many a times. There is no shame in admitting it. And I never felt bad that i puked. But this was not just another day. For the first time, a sense of helplessness was creeping in. Just like others, I also feel I have some setting with God. he is the first one I always remember when in trouble."God, please save me today...I promise I wont have it again. I know I should not have done this shit. I knew it was wrong.Please one more try."
Somehow, I think God was in mood to oblige me. I dont know where I slept or what happened after that. But, ppl told me I was totally out and puked at least a ton. I promised myself never to have it again. I am not good at keeping promises, but have broken this one only a couple of times. Really great going by my standards. Looking back, I feel lucky to have survived. But it was really hell of an experience.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Ragging – No more a fresher’s mind
Ragging - The word itself is dreadful and complete in meaning. Is it really? Ask us 4 guys all have a different meaning for this altogether. Four of us Myself, Deepak Rawat, Priya and Himanshu (Surprised! Yeah it wasn't budda till then. It was First week of August 2004)
Deepak (Local) was one of the victims who really can define the term ragging. Me n Priya never cared about it we were never in our room anyway. Himanshu Oh man why are you fucking scared all the time. Hiding your cigarette under your pillow and bistarband that too when your room partner don't smoke.
Before going further let me tell you my story when I first entered the GBPEC. First important person I met was Mr. Naithani chatted a bit about T.T. Then met my room partner Himanshu n Priya. Everything was okay first day everybody's parents were there in the Hostel but if you can read between the lines you can see the hidden smile behind the innocent face of Sunil Yadav and seniors likewise.
Next day you get to see the campus 58 guys is a row 24 gals in another row. Leading them is a charming senior Sunil Yadav and large ugly beasts surrounding all of us, everyone third button but you do care to get a glimpse of the beauty of Garhwal Hills despite the risk of getting injured when you reach hostel. Don't you? You got my point. Right!
Registration, opening SBI bank account, meet Mr. Rauthan/Mr Ashish Negi, Some good seniors come to us, advice us to lower our tone which we obviously ignored at first (Hot blood hmm) but sooner you learn the better :D
After that starts the class of Mr. B. Roy, Mr. H. Goel, Mr. Kala (reminding me of Holy trinity). Never understood even 10% of what they taught me if they did. Math a subject I loved I never liked it anymore after those classes. Haha. Poor math
After the class you senior tells you to get all the information about your batchmates (Too brave to ask themselves Uhh…) There is an interesting story of one of our Senior Shamshad Alam Khan in fact there are many more stories but that I'll tell later. <LinkANDEditInFuture>
Sometime they come in between the lectures also and so nice to see some senior Ma'am trying to rag us poor guys who are already proficient enough in all the languages a good citizen doesn't like to converse in. Anyways ragging in the classroom is best normally that you really enjoy even in the ragging time.
[Draft]
Author - CSR
Thursday, August 09, 2007
A day in the life of GBPEC – Part I
Smoking pot, sitting in the room T-106, Surti looking around for some more CAPSTAN hoping that he would find some cigarette butts. Ganja Mohan (The Don) busy mixing the weeds and tobacco in his palm and feeling the eternal pleasure that only he or us involved in the session could understand.
You must be wondering it can't exactly be the beginning of the day for a typical common engineering guy but as you might already have found out we are no typical ones and no common man among us at all (not talking abt chota mota common man that ganja is This is real Indian common man).
This story takes place at the same time when other guys are jumping out of their bad, taking shower, some still reading their courseware with glasses on and so on. So anyway this is not the beginning of our day which starts normally in the afternoon or sometime in evening when we wake up, look around for a tooth paste, brush our teeth, Surti shines his shoes and comb his hair (I don't know if we can call them hair but anyway that is another topic) with Beedi stuck between his lips. Not a weekend so no bath today I'll have to search my bucket anyway or steal someone else's, search for a soap in friends room (or fiend's room does it matter?) but that's a whole big task I can't possibly do after last night's booze party.
I'm thirsty have to go to Doctor's room to get a glass of water. Water Filter (owned by kutte ka bal) is always full and ready to serve the thirsty people like us. That was the only one I could get access to with the least distance travelled. More over these guys are always there to discuss something weird n intersting and always have something to yell upon. And to add on to this, they have a nicer bathroom and toilet nearby with soap, mug, bucket and towel always ready. Get in there dirty n come out fresh, have a puff of Wills Navy Cut, (Smokers are all there. To name a few Doctor himself, Tau, Charsee, BD, Suchir, Gullu, Bhandari and a whole lot more). Oh man Naveen shop is right in front of us within our eye sight. U can just sit here doing nothing n gaze upon anybody (charming or not) and do a lot with your power of imagination (now this is one thing all of us in the group have in excess) and obviously hear Mr. Vashisth shouting n flinging (nobody knows why).
[Draft]
Author - CSR
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