A Time of my Life: Part 1

Time to make this blog look less morbid.

This is one of those incidents i have always wanted to write down somewhere ... not to be lost in time, but to be made timeless. The characters are original, their names unchanged and there is nothing coincidental. In time, these people may become famous and be embarrassed at reading this post and even threaten to sue me for blasphemy. Nonetheless i will take the risk.

It was one of those weeks in 2002 when we had just come back from Kolkata to our hostel in Shimoga (Yes, there is such a place on earth !), Karnataka, after a semester break. Everyone had their bags filled with something from home, but mostly that resource would run out during the 2 day train journey. Some wise men however hid their treasures in the darkest corners of their bags.

GB (Girish Binani.... though the abbreviation has stood stoically for a lot of other names over a torturous span of 4 years) was one such wise man. He always brought home-made 'parathas' and sweets to be shared with us for the train journey, but, this time things were different. Unconfirmed reports had it that his bhabi (his elder brother had recently got married) had sent with him a huge cache of dry fruits cashews and almonds. GB, being much thinner than he is today, understandably had plans to consume this stuff over a period of the ensuing semester and hoped to put on some much needed weight. Over a span of two days GB kept a hawk eye on his luggage.

Needless to say, there were miscreants around. Let me introduce you to some of them.

Sujo(a)y Banerejee. He did not like the 'o' his parents gave, so decided on changing it to 'a'. GB suspected him the most; But if you ask me, Sujoy really wasnt the reason he should have been worried. In every team there is a scapegoat. Sujoy was ours.

Sutanu Mandal. Now we are treading into dangerous territory. One of those benevolent-looking-slow-starting dangerous unstoppable monsters. Like a fission reaction, it was not a big deal to get him going but to contain him.

Pratik Gupta (Mota). Neither benevolent-looking nor slow-starting .. but decetpively quiet and more dangerous.

Varun Vashisht. One of the few trusted confidants of GB. Always ready to help with inside info about him.

Soumya (.. thats not a girl as many of you from the deccan would suspect.... In Bengali his name is spelt 'shoummo'). An inert member of the group who would lay supine all his way through the most intense fights and the most docile times around him.

Saptarshi Moitra. That's me. Many would have you believe that I am not as innocent as I am. But the most important point is that GB believes (or at least he believed in 2002) me to be innocent.

Somehow GB made it to the hostel where his treasure lay ensconced in a locked cupboard. he used to stay with Varun, Soumya and Sujoy. Dont ask me how Sujoy and GB managed to coexist. GB must have had sleepless nights protecting his treasure from white fangs.. so, one day he decided to become philanthropic.

I used to visit Tunga 105 (GB's room) quite often. On this fine afternoon, after having lunch at the gourmet George's i went to 105. (Co)incidentally i was joined by Sutanu and Mota (also Kaushik whom i forgot to mention in the gang). Everyone coaxed GB to share with us his treasure; but, he refused. Then someone (I think Sujoy) asked GB to at least give a share of his treasure to me (my reputation being higher than the rest). The wise man thought for a while and then acceded to the demand. And then it all happened.

I still remember the scene vividly and probably will for many years to come. GB took his cupboard key from under his pillow and threw it towards me.. the idea being only to authorize me to have a share of his treasure and give the keys back to him. Like a circuit-breaker the key bunch landed safely in my hand ... and immediately the hostel lights went off... This was sheer serendipity for us.... and bad luck for GB.

I can remember myself opening the cupboard in the dark and immediately feeling numerous hands groping in the darkness. The big fat ones which would block all of GB s 'dubbas' was Mota's. From the typical odour emanating from behind my shoulders I figured that Sutanu was behind me deperately tryin his luck too. Kaushik, Varun .. they were all there.

GB in his moment of desperation went for the match-box. Dont ask me why. Probably he wanted to see the carnage... just hearing wasnt enough. I can remember GB jumping from bed to bed tryin to light a match and Sujoy following close, dutifully blowing each one off . Something like the Tom& Jerry chase. So engrossed was GB with this 'let-there-be-light' thing that he ran out of the room in the dark corridor in search of a torch. This was a fatal mistake. Sujoy simply latched the door from inside. In the darkness we could hear GB yell from outside. Torchlight could be spotted from the ventilator above the door, meaning GB was now back with a torch.. but locked out in the corridor.

And then there was Light.

Mota's mouth was on the verge of exploding, and so were his pockets. Sutanu grinned at me and a couple of cashew nut fell off from his overstuffed mouth. Kaushik never talked much.. even now he was keeping his mouth closed. Sujoy was so happy to have screwed Gb that he had forgotten about the loot. Now he was begging Mota and the others for his share. I still had GB's keys in my hand. We decided to open the door and let GB in.

I dont recall what exactly happened after that, perhaps, because we were laughing our brains out and I think this story propagated through the other corridors of Tunga, and soon GB had visitors like Vishal Sagar Mayank and KK from the other wings.

When I read 'Five Point Someone' by Chetan Bhagat I often wondered if we had more fun and more stories to tell about our college days. May be we never cared to pen them down and with time, those sweet memories faded, or were replaced with life's pragmatism. Nonetheless, here's my try to keep them alive.