Tuesday 18 December 2007

Hostel Part II

[This is a continuation of the earlier story I did about my hostel life. The same precautions and parental guidance are valid in this case too. ]

Hostel helped me to grow up. Our college and hostel was located in the same campus. It was far from the city. So there were hardly any time pass apart from playing football or cricket in the afternoon after college is over. We spent our time by going college, by not going college, by drinking tea at chacha’s shop just outside the campus, or eating the fabulous ghoognee(a chatpata dish made of chhola) with mudi.

Ragging days were over and it was time to befriend between ourselves. Freshers welcome was coming soon. Every college has its own heritage of giving fresher’s welcome. Ours was the fabulous choreography, of course by our senior girls. None admitted it but I am sure everyone loved it. There were really beautiful girls giving us a dancing welcome, something we had never thought we would ever get, not even if we someday win a nobel prize. And our mind raced. For seniors, whoever reads this post, “No, we strictly didn’t fantacise about your girlfriend!”. We were a bunch of loosers on the second floor. None of us were handsome, none of us ever capable of doing anything in life. We stayed in the anonymity of our second floor life. Ground floor and first floor knew that there are people who are there on top of them, but none really knew who are these morons. We became friends through this united second floor feeling. And there came a blow.

As soon as the ragging days were over, people came out with their own ideas of harassing other people. When I say harassing, it was not exactly harassment, it was simple fun but sometimes a bit overboard. At least the person on whom the prank is being played will definitely think so.

I remember one night after a tough day at college (having done woodworks at the workshop it was definitely one of those rare physical labour days ) I was sleeping hard. Suddenly a splash woke me up. I was so deep in sleep that suddenly it felt like a flood has come into my room. and I woke up, in the darkness I could figure out a guy moving outside my room through the open window. I woke up to fully to realise a dirty underwear hanging on top of the mosquito net of my bed giving that flash effect!

My friends and I retaliated. We invited those two guys who did this to play prank on two of the other guys from our floor. They agreed not knowing the gangster move we played beneath this. They had cocme to scare the two of the most peaceful guys of our floor. And the plan we had was, as soon as they come, we have to shout as if thieves have broken into. And then give those two a nice beating. The plan went on excellently and the next morning, there were cries of pain from two rooms.

These were petty hostel rivalries. These faded away as we grew up. Slowly there formed groups among ourselves.

1. Group A: group of nerds. Every college has them. They read hard, usually bespectacled, use a lot of PJs and laugh out loud at them. Some people considered me to be a part of this bunch initially due to good results in the beginning. As my results went down gradually, they lost all the hope they had about me and I was no longer (not even in ppl’s thoughts) a part of this.
2. Group B: group of Casanovas. These people were hugely interested in girls. From day1 they had their eyes set up on picking up girls. They talked about which girl to be picked up. They used to bet on who will pick which girl. They even went on to bet which hostel guys will have all the girls and all stupid stuff.
3. Group C: group of sports buff. A lot of my friend circle belonged to this group. This people ate, drank and dreamt of sports. There were people who used to play football after coming back from college then during the evening, there started the looong period of table tennis, carom volleyball etc. And if it was winter, we had our beloved cricket and badminton tournaments.
4. Group D: group of street smarts. The most respected group of the college. These were the people loved by all. They might be short on funda, short on their patience to study but they had a brain to overcome all. These people usually featured in all activities of college enthusiastically, scored good ranks and had a high CGPA.
5. Group E: group of addicts. By addicts I don’t mean cocaine or heroine though. But I am sure there were a couple of fellows regularly taking those. The most popular in thing in hostel was N10 tablets. Another spasmo tablet. Never knew what they are for or what pleasure they gave to these people. Some of them ruined their lives. Some, when I last heard, were on the verge of doing the same.
6. Group F: group of madhatters. I love to call them so as essentially these people never fit into any known types. They were a brand of their own. Some of them singers, some of them poets, some of them loners, some of them gamers and some of them most creative people on earth!

More to come on this…a lot more groups were there. Stay tuned…

Sunday 9 December 2007

People of the Sun

Someone has tagged me! In my long bored blogger life for the first time. And I am thankful to her...But this brought about some problems to me. The rules of this tagging thingy as I got to understand is that you need to

1. Put shitload of songs onto your music player (have to be a digital player...winamp on your lappy, Ipod, whatever you've got)
2. Keep it on shuffle mode (if this doesn't make sense to you, choose a different player)
3. For each question hit the next button and you don't have to really listen to the songs...
4. You must write the name of the song that comes up like this as the answer of the question...whatever goddamn it means.

As I told I don't even listen to songs that much. I have one play list made of a few selected songs and I listen to them again and again and again...and then when I get bored with them I give them a break....and then I listen to them again! :-(

I know I am pathetic. But what to do? So I got hands on my roomies hard disk and loaded all I could see onto Winamp!!
Now the rest was quite easy.

IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY?” YOU SAY?
Lyla (Eric Clapton)
:-O Don't know why but I do say that!!

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Somebody to love (Jefferson airplane)
Oh ya baby that’s who I am!


WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
The first cut is the deepest (Sheryl Crow)

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
London calling (The Cash)
Yah it is infact. From tomorrow starts another week of to and fro journey of London...I hate my job!

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
Sorrow (Pink Floyd)
Another bingo!! How am I doing this!!


WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Living Las Vegas (Sheryl Crow)
I want to do that maan!! That's my life's motto...

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Things have changed (Bob Dylan)
I never wanted to...but you know things do change...sometimes for worse!


WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Bring your own bomb (Systems of a down)
They do bomb me sometimes though! :-)

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Just might make me believe (Sugarland)


WHAT IS 2+2?
Touch my bum (the cheeky song) - by cheeky girls
If you ask such stupid questions again...I will continue to be rude like this! :X

DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
The Road Jack Beat(Cassidy, freestyle RAP)
I have no idea how to tell it to you...

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Anarchy in the UK(Sex Pistols)
Yes indeed you have brought anarchy in my life while in UK...

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Pump It (Black Eyed Peas)
Yah that's pretty much sums up it.

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
The Seventh Seal(Van Halen)
By the way to you really mean grow up? Or you mean grow old? How do I grow up more?

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Downtown train(Rod Stewart)
I am in trouble today!

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
A million love songs(Gary Barlow)
I love you too, ppl!

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
You Got Another Thing Coming(Judas Priest)
well ahem .... may be!

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
A Design for Life(Manic Street Preachers)
I am flattered!

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Running with the devil (Val Halen)
yes that's what I do all the time!

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Can't anybody hold me down (Puff Daddy and Mase)
None can dude!

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Sacrifice (Eric Clapton)

Please don't .. I really don't mean it!

WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS?
People of the sun(Rage against the machine)

Phewww!! and you thought I am afraid of being tagged? :P

Saturday 1 December 2007

Hostel part 1

[This post is for consenting adults only! I bear no responsibility for those echor e paka, less than 18 year olds who read this! a guardian must accompany them while reading this post, and decide whether or not to let their sons to an engineering college hostel! For girls who have lived in the pinky pinky paradise of their mother's lap the following post might seem to be rude, for the guys and other type of girls this was my life in hostel and I am being absolutely honest about it...There will be more posts coming on it as time passes by]

No dude, this ain’t gonna be the review of the Quentin Tarantino flick. Those are not as amusing as real life can be. Trust me my hostel life was ruder, violent and a step in the guy’s world with a hilarious touch on it. A whole new world where you get to know guys from Bengal’s remotest places to the posh and sexy ones telling us stories of hooking with a high class escort! Life was never as educating as this.

I went to a residential engineering college in West Bengal. Life one fine day became different for me. There you go alone in a completely different world devoid of any parental insurance, empty of motherly care. It was a man’s world.

First day when I faced ragging I just came to the college to get admitted. My father was with me. He was a man of middleclass values and morality. Already pouring his anxiety in my ears as words of wisdom and advice, he was visibly worried to let his son be alone. There were those much feared tribe of people around, the so called seniors looking like street goons with their unshaved faces. I got called from a second year hostel. My father waited outside. I, worried and nervous, went ahead towards the hostel while my father waited on the street. It was a classic scene. I was growing up.

My first ragging with my father standing nearby was not much exciting. It was a bunch of kind seniors who were good natured and asked me couple of half wit questions before asking me to go join my father.

As time passed by I grew into the hostel. Or rather hostel grew inside me like a parasite. Or better to say probably a mutual symbiotic relationship was created between me and hostel. All the hostilities from the seniors were nothing before this growing bond. This was a bond which taught me life.

I still remember the first few days, every day after college some or other seniors used to call me. I was probably one of the most unlucky guys around. I was a quiet calm fellow always living in the shadows. But somehow my hunters would find me out. I was pretty naïve at that time. Having come from Siliguri I didn’t know many things. Yes, I hadn’t seen a full porn movie yet. It was banned on siliguri cable not even on the late night. I hadn’t known the local slang for masturbation! I didn’t know the exact terminologies of a female anatomy. I didn’t know cursing to the fullest extent.

So the ragging sessions became learning sessions for me. I learnt all these things plus a few more. I learnt how to read a news paper when after every word you insert “My C***k” and then after another word you insert “your c**t”. I learnt what will be the trajectory if a drop of water falling from tip of Madhuri’s nose to the very end and places it would travel. I learnt how to calculate PCM of myself. I learnt also how to propose to a senior girl!

Our college in that manner was civilised when we joined. None actually got me naked and spanked me on my butt. None actually ordered me to have a zebra fashioned moustache (probably because my moustache was quite thin and unnoticeable that time). None actually made me play “lalu bhulu” with a fellow guy. And I am thankful to my seniors for these. As, if I were asked to do these things, God knows what I would have done, but for one thing was sure the guys who were coming to join this hostel as our successors, things could only get worse.