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Showing posts with label campus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label campus. Show all posts

Monday, January 17, 2011

Vani Creates A Scene

“Is something wrong, Harsha?” Mohan must have sensed something certainly wrong.

“I'm afraid so friend. It is Vani” I tried to reply in a calm tone.

“Oh! What does she want?”

“She thinks she own me. I shouldn’t have come with you on the trip”

“Hey, come now. Nothing has happened. You will be alright. I am surprised she didn’t do this to Bhaskar.”

“She might have. How can you be sure she hasn’t?”

“Well, he would’ve told me.”

A senior professor, who was to engage our class, came out of his chambers and we had to rush into the classroom.

In spite of Mohan’s assurance that I would be alright, I was afraid it was not going to be so easy. At the back of my mind, I was thinking of something that I might tell Vani by way of explanation of my behavior. Albeit in rage I’d told her point blank that I didn’t owe an explanation to her, I wasn’t myself so sure. On the contrary, I was thinking of all sorts of explanations that could convince her and free me from the clutches of obligations to her. I couldn’t bear the thought that someone was badly hurt by my callous attitude. Hadn’t I been selfish? Of course both of us had sought and found pleasure, but I couldn’t blame her alone. I had to share the blame. I never did tell her in so many words that I loved her, but wasn’t that implied in our cultural context? I certainly had acted in such a way as to imply that I intended to have a long time relationship with her. But the reality was I wasn’t ready yet for a lifetime commitment and Vani would’ve been my last choice even if I was, in fact, ready.

Vijay was already seated and we joined him on the same bench. It was a class on political philosophy by the professor, who was as extremely erudite and eloquent and his lectures were always full of good humour. But today I felt like running away from there. Vijay was looking at me with a question as to what had happened but I couldn’t tell him anything as the lecture started immediately.

Only a few minutes into the lecture, the professor was quick to find out that something was wrong with Vani, for she had turned pale and looking as though she was nauseated. She rested her forehead on the desk which was noticed by the professor. “Is something wrong? Are you not well Miss Vani?” he asked her.
Tears flowed down her cheeks and she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes but didn’t reply. My feet went cold and my heart began to pound furiously out of fear that now I would be caught, if he seriously investigated into what had gone wrong. I was sure though that Vani couldn’t tell anything in the open class, but I was not that sure she would remain equally tightlipped if the professor summoned her to his chambers and made enquiries. I could visualize the enquiry, Vani sobbing and keeping her head down, I being summoned, then parents being informed and I losing all my dignity, pride and …

“I am all right sir, I was just feeling some giddiness,” at last Vani replied trying to stand up and wincing with pain.

“No, you need not stand up. If you are not well, you may go back to the hostel and take rest. One of the girls will escort you,” the professor said in a kind voice.

Vani was still holding her forehead with her right hand and didn’t reply, but Nirupama talked to her something in whisper and then said aloud, “I will take her to the health centre sir.”

The professor nodded and continued with his discourse, much to my relief. He must have thought that it was the usual monthly bad days for Vani. I watched Vani and Nirupama till they left the classroom, all the way feeling that at least a few of the students must be staring at me accusingly.

“It is all bloody drama, Harsha,” Vijay whispered to reassure me, but the professor observed his doing so and asked him, “Do you too want to go to health center?” There were giggles all around till the professor said stiffly, “That’s enough!”

I sincerely hoped that it was play acted by Vani in order to gain my sympathies, yet I was finding it hard to believe just the same. I wanted to get out into fresh air but now for another forty-five minutes it was impossible to do so. I couldn’t close my eyes and try to calm myself for the fear that the professor might think I was dozing. To try and understand what the professor was saying was out of question but I was obligated to pretend concentrating. The world is full of pretense, I thought, everyone was pretending all the time.

“Life is poor, short, nasty, brutish and short in the State of Nature according to Hobbes. Poor because..” the professor was explaining the Hobbesian Theory of Contract. A thought came to my mind that even in the civilized state, life is not much different! In hind sight, it all looks so ludicrous. “Fear and self-preservation are the dominant emotions in human nature” I couldn’t understand in what context the professor was saying this, but certainly it must have been Hobbes’ idea of human nature. True, I said to myself, how true!


After what seemed to be an eternity, the lecture was over and I was relieved as though I had been through an ordeal. The moment we climbed down the stairs and reached a safe distance from our department so that nobody could see us, Mohan and I lit cigarettes. The nicotine rushing through the blood, instead of relaxing my mind, gave a sudden kick as to nauseate me. I wanted to sit down but we were standing under the dappled shade of a gulmohar tree.

Watching us smoke, Vijay might have felt the urge too. He relived me of my cigarette and began smoking. Mohan laughed observing Vijay’s novice way of smoking and said, “Mama, you are not taking even a puff into your lungs. You are simply wasting the cigarette.”

“I know,” Vijay said defiantly, “I am doing it deliberately.”


A breeze of cool wind that caressed my face and fluttered my shirt, made me feel better. At the very moment I saw Vani and Nirupama coming; perhaps they were returning from the health center. “Look,” I said, “Vani seems perfectly all right!”


All were looking at them now. “Who said she was not well, Harsha?” Mohan inhaled deeply, “She just wanted have your attention.”

“By creating a scene!” Vijay added sarcastically.

We remained silent till Nirupama and Vani approached us; while Vani kept going as though she had not noticed us, Nirupama came to Mohan who met her half way and talked to her under his breath. After exchanging only a couple of words he came to us and Nirupama joined Vani.

“She is perfectly alright, nothing to worry,” he announced.

“As expected,” Vijay rejoined, “Let’s get back to the hostel friends” he spoke my mind.

I let out a relief; all the same I was not actually totally relieved. I had to still find a pretext as to why I would not be Vani’s boyfriend. As we entered the botanical gardens through the turnstile, an idea came to my mind. The botanical gardens seemed darker than they always did, though it was only a couple of hours after mid day.

&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

Friday, January 7, 2011

The Aftermath

Though I didn’t want to attach any significance to what Vijay had told me, it still impelled me to search my mind a bit because I always really liked knowing what I was going to do instead of doing it first and wondering why I’d done it afterwards, or until then that was what I thought of myself. I wanted to put everything behind and move forward, but the thought that I had put my neck into the lasso thrown by Vani kept nagging me. I tried very hard but found no reason whatsoever not to believe what Vijay had told me. Had Mohan, who had lured me into going for this adventure, also been a part of the conspiracy, I couldn’t be sure, nor could I ask him, for I was in the danger of incurring his displeasure if that had not been so. But I couldn’t fault Mohan, neither then, not later, nor even now. I took comfort in believing what I liked to believe, that he too had been hoodwinked.

On another front, some coldness had steeped into the relations between Bhaskar and Mohan, which I guessed was because of Bhaskar’s envy, his disapproval of Mohan choosing to take me on the tour and what was more important, without even caring to tell Bhaskar why he had done so. Neither had kept any secret from the other, at least as far as I know, till then. Mohan didn’t seem to have done it deliberately, for he must have been goaded to keep Bhaskar out of it, was my convenient guess. It troubled me too, that I had been secretly delighted by the chasm between the old friends, although it also simultaneously pleased me that at last I had been able to pierce their close friendship. I had not been able to forgive them for ignoring me on so many occasions early on. Now both were close to me, but they had drifted apart from each other. It all sounds silly and frivolous now but back then, it had been so important to me!

Fortunately, the teachers had not got the wind of what had all happened in our group and life went on as always, until something happened.

I began to meticulously avoid talking to Vani and evade the daily trip to the canteen with the group. Mohan too seemed to be busy with the political elite of the university. There was a group consisting of the General Secretary and other officer-bearers of the gymkhana, who along with a big crowd of followers were spending too much of time in the Gymkhana building where a room had been provided officially to the GS. They would play shuttle, bunk classes, play cards with stakes in terms of money, wander on bikes all the time in the city. Mohan was soon immersed in all these useless pursuits so much so that he hardly returned to his room even in the evening. He moved most of his belongings to the Gymkhana building and was hardly seen with any of us on the campus. Bhaskar tried to follow him and be a part of that group, but I had the least idea why he didn’t succeed.

I’d got a new partner in Pavan, along with Vijay for my daily trips to the city for drinks and dinner. Those times must have been really very hard on Bhaskar, though he never showed it. He made all efforts to seem happy in the company of Suresh and Virupakshappa in the hostel, making jokes, reading newspapers holding either a cigarette or a cup of tea in one hand, telling things that had happened only in his fantasies, mostly the politics of his native place and frequenting to his friends from his undergraduate days. But we all did meet in the department where we gathered to attend lectures.

As usual, Vijay and I used to sit right behind the girls in the classroom. Vani, who always sat on the first bench, had begun to sit in the last row of the girls, just in front of us. She kept looking back at me and try to talk to me so often that one of the teachers noticed it and reprimanded her and advised her as well to be attentive in the class. It was too embarrassing to me to put up with and I suggested to Vijay that we sat somewhere else.

The day we changed our place and sat in the last row of the boys, Vani was obviously offended and her face fell. Nirupama, sitting by her side tried to talk to her and take her mind off me, which I could easily observe and understand. I knew that something was wrong. When that lecture was over, Vijay and I walked out of the classroom and stood in the balcony leaning on the parapet, gazing at the tall palm trees. We had another five minutes before the next lecture began. Had the gap between two lectures been more, I would have preferred to go out of the building to have a fag.

“Why are you doing like this?” I was startled to hear the voice from behind my back and turned to find Vani standing, with red eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?” She repeated the question.

“What am I doing?” I asked evasively.

“Don’t you know what you are doing? You do know very well that you have been avoiding me as though I am a stranger to you.”

Before I could answer Vijay excused himself and walked away.

“Vani, you are creating a bloody scene here. What have I done?”

“I am not creating any scene here. I am just asking a simple question. I need an explanation. Have I done anything to offend you?”

Now I had begun to lose my temper. “Do you own me? I don’t need to explain anything to anybody, ok?”

She looked stunned at my response and stood still for a while.

“You mean you don’t love me?” Her voice was now only a shade higher than a whisper.

“Don’t be absurd. Did I ever tell you that I loved you?”

“Then, then why did you…” she couldn’t complete the sentence. “You love someone else?” at last she managed to ask.

“I don’t think that is any of your business Vani. Please behave yourself,” my tone was still testy. I was angry but not at her, but at me myself, for having thrown myself in such a situation.

She stood considering my reply for a moment. It was not more than a minute, but, to this day, it was one of the longest of my life. Seconds seemed to be separated from each other by what seemed an eternity. I could hear my heart thumping wildly. Her cheeks grew red; she glared at me with anger, anguish and disappointment. “Don’t I mean anything to you?” she asked at last, without expecting any reasonable answer from me.

I was now very conscious of my surroundings. I was in the balcony before my department, most of my classmates, and maybe a couple of teachers watching me with interest. I decided not to say anything. As luck would have it, Mohan approached us and favoured me with smile. He was absent in the first lecture and was just returning, perhaps from the Gymkhana, after a game of badminton. It was an immense relief to see him.

“Hey Mohan! Where had you been man?” I deliberately moved away from Vani turning my back towards her. I hoped Mohan wouldn’t start a conversation with her. I could sense Vani moving away and going into the classroom.

@*@*@*@&*@

Friday, October 1, 2010

Fiasco

When I turned around I found that Vani had disappeared into the bathroom. My heart was still pounding. What was I going to do? How would I touch Vani knowing fully well that I had never even given as much a hint as to suggest I was in love with her? Of course, I was not in love with her and I was sure I would never be, for she was nowhere near the girl that I’d dreamt of. To put it in simple words, as they say these days, she was not my type. Was Nirupama my type? It was an embarrassing question even though I questioned myself. Frankly speaking, she too was not. She could have been, had I ignored her dusky complexion, her somewhat low IQ, her reputation or disrepute and infamy, her general lack of interest in the things intellectual, and things I didn’t myself know how to put in words, but I could never have ignored the fact that she’d chosen Mohan over me in the first place and she’d already lost her virginity to Mohan, if not to someone earlier than him. Then why did I crave to bed her? Was it my way of avenging her for preferring Mohan to me? Why did I see red, although I never expressed it? Undoubtedly it was my ego, or was it envy plain and simple?

 Why didn’t Mohan say anything about swapping that he himself proposed and seemed to be dying to do? Had he forgotten? Of course he might not have forgotten. In fact he was more eager to conquer Vani than I was to make love to Nirupama. Perhaps, he was in a hurry. He was certain to turn up later and ask me to go the other room. With these thoughts clouding my mind, I decided to have another drink, forgetting that I had already had one too many. I mixed very little water to a generous peg of liquor so that I could drink it in one gulp before Vani appeared. Just as I was placing the glass back on the teapoy, the bathroom door opened and Vani saw it.

“You are still drinking?” she asked unentangling her long braid with raising both her arms above to reach her mane. I noticed that she was wearing a pink nightgown that had sequins around her neck. I was amazed to see that she really had a mountainous bosom, which either somehow had escaped my attention or discovery or wasn’t noticeable when she wore sari, which she almost everyday did. The pace of my heartbeats quickened rapidly at the voluptuous sight.

“I am damn tired,” I replied lamely. Her laughter suggested she hardly believed me.

She climbed the bed, fluttered the pillow and lied down feigning a yawn. “Me too,” she said and turned sideways, facing the bed lamp. I switched off the lights but the bed lamp was still on. I hadn’t brought any nightdress. Therefore I wrapped a towel around my trunk and removed my pants and shirt. She could hear me changing, but she didn’t budge. She was pretending as if she had slipped into sleep. There was only one bed in the room and sharing it with her was inevitable. But my nerves were failing me. I was cursing Mohan in my own mind for putting me under such a circumstance although I was equally to be blamed, but at the same time deep down in my heart there was a desire, a hunger, an enticement and a temptation that was utterly irresistible. I knew I had to take courage with my both hands in order to approach her but my conscience was putting all sorts of hurdles. Would she agree? If she agreed, won’t she force me to marry her? Ah, she’d to force Bhaskar first, I tried to assure myself. What if all that Bhaskar told about the night preceding Virupakshappa’s marriage were all bloody lies? After all Bhaskar was known for his mastery over the art of concocting all sorts of lies in order to either entertain the listeners, or to serve his own ends. What if the second wicket, after all had not fallen contrary to the observation I had made in a moment of envy coupled with wrath? What if my parents were to know about this? The very thought of my parents finding this out sent a wave of panic in my mind. I would die of shame if such a thing were to happen. What if the police raided the lodge and dragged us to the police station and then informed our parents? The very thought caused my thighs to shudder.

Vani stirred, pulled her legs closer to her chest and thereby revealed her equally voluptuous posterior.  My courage of convictions was melting away. God, help me! I cried silently. A thought came to my mind that I could spend the whole night dozing off on the chair. But what would I tell my friends? All my false claims of having conquered innumerable girls would be exposed and my reputation will suffer a severe dent. Why, I could picture right then how my friends would be mocking and teasing me! I could tell the same things as Bhaskar had done and it would be my words against Vani’s. Surely none would be asking Vani about anything that might have happened this night. However where would it leave me? Vani could still compel me to marry her!

I poured another small drink for me and having mixed equal measure of water, drank it bottoms up. It is said that drink gives you all the valour in the world. But it wasn’t helping me at all. It is even said an aroused person has neither fear nor shame. Even that was not happening with me. I decided to take all my thoughts to the bed, and if possible, shrug them off along with the rest of my clothes!

I climbed the bed and lied on my shoulder facing Vani. She still didn’t stir. Was she acting as though she didn’t know what was coming? Was she not interested at all? I lay for a few minutes silently. Then slowly rose with my weight resting on my elbow to see her face. Her eyes were closed. I crept closer to her pressing my whole body against her and encircled her front with my arm. She gave a start and jerked me off, then turned towards me.

“What do you think you are doing?” she asked. I knew for sure that there was no anger in her voice.

“You surely can’t be that naïve not to understand what I am doing,” I replied with feigned peevishness. She simply stared at me with false anger that I could easily recognize. I again moved closer to her and tried to clasp her. She shoved me again. I persisted and this time I grabbed her bosom and she jerked off my hand and said, “Why are you flirting with me?”

Remember we were speaking in Kannada and the use of English word ‘flirt’ sounded funny too me. Suppressing my amusement I said, “Yes, Why not if Bhaskar can?”

“What do you mean by ‘if Bhaskar can?’” she sat upright and looked into my eyes.

“Come on Vani. He’s described picturesquely what happened on that night in Raichur!”

“What happened? It is all nonsense”

“I don’t know if it was nonsense, but something did happen. Didn’t it?”

“Harsha, tell me what Bhaskar has been telling others, please”

I told her how Bhaskar had described his conquest of Vani, though not as graphically as he was able to do. It was only after telling her that I realized it was wrong to tell anybody what Bhaskar had told us in confidence. Apart from being morally wrong, it could drive a wedge between Bhaskar and me. At that point of time, however, I just wanted her and would not mind using Bhaskar’s story as a weapon to subdue her; at least I thought it was a weapon.

“It is all bloody lies Harsha, what happened was nothing like this,” she said after pondering silently for a while, “You know, Nirupama and I were sharing one room and Bhaskar and Mohan were sharing another. We four were the first to reach Raichur and the person who was to receive us at the lodge gave us only two rooms, thinking that the girls would stay in one room and the boys in another. Obviously, Virupakshappa was not sure that you and Vijay would be coming to attend his marriage. In case you didn’t turn up, he would be spending unnecessarily for the rooms that would remain unoccupied. Vijay reached there after 10.45 and was therefore given another room, which he would be sharing with any other guest turning later.

“Bhaskar did come to my room because Nirupama requested to be left alone with Mohan. In fact she went to Mohan’s room and sent Bhaskar to wait in my room. You know, he is a distant relative of mine, so he couldn’t make any wrong move. I’d told Nirupama that I would wait only for an hour after which I would throw Bhaskar out of my room. Bhaskar was drunk and did approach me, but I sternly told him to behave himself. After that he sat there smoking and reading a stale newspaper, and also having a friendly chat with me, mostly making fun of Nirupama and Mohan. When Nirupama returned, he went back to stay with Mohan. That’s all,” Nirupama gazed into my eyes trying find out if I believed her version. I neither wanted to believe what she said nor did I want to find any holes in her story.

“Alright!” I said again letting my hand move over her bosom and getting encouraged that she was not resisting now, “However, neither you are waiting for Nirupama to return after an hour tonight, nor can you throw me out of the room.”

“Are you my lover?” Vani had an edge in her tone.

“Are they lovers?” I asked referring to Mohan and Nirupama.

“Yes. They are,” she replied with conviction.

“Don’t be too sure. This is India. Here, the lovers are supposed to marry. And I am sure Mohan is not going to marry her,” my tone too was edgy now.

“What? Nirupama is in love with him and she’s sure as hell he’ll marry her”

“Is she? Has he ever asked her to marry him?”

“He will. In course of time.”

“If he won’t?”

Vani didn’t reply but sat still thinking about the possibility. But I had already started enjoying myself. When I hugged her, for the first time I found that she was wearing virtually nothing below her gown. She was still thinking when I drew her face near mine and kissed her on lips. She closed her eyes and began kissing me back.

The rendering of a raga in Hindustani classical music always starts with aalap, which is a gradual unfolding, and development of a raga through monosyllables and without a fixed composition. The artist can expand it as much as he likes. It is followed by a singing of a khayal in vilambit tal, which is a lyrical composition of usually two stanzas, very slow in tempo. Then it shifts to madhyam tal, the medium fast tempo and ends with a presentation of a cheez in dhrut, the fast tempo. The whole rendering will be adorned with sargam, laykari, taan and other decorations. The whole performance becomes a manifestation of bliss and beauty. But even a microtone of discordant note spoils the whole performance. All my knowledge of lovemaking had come from unreliable sources such as porn literature and blue films. I had been worked up so much already that there was hardly any place for aalap and vilambit laya. Even the drut couldn’t be carried out, to my dismay, because of a discordant thing that occurred. I was put off because of an unfamiliar unpleasant odour that was emanating from unknown source that affected me so deeply that I was spent well before even touching the destination. About half an hour later, my second expedition also ended up as a disaster, all because of what had become in my view, an all-pervasive stench. The thrill had evaporated and was replaced by angst, despair, exasperation and fear. I had the least inkling of what was to come as an aftermath soon, not in the distant future.

************* **********  **********  **********

Monday, September 27, 2010

The Build Up to Disaster

Anyone who is shocked at the sight of a girl drinking these days would be looked upon as an anachronism. He’s certain to be branded as feudal and male chauvinist. However, those were the days of only one National Channel TV, and cell phones and computers were mostly unheard of. Even the salwar kameez that is ubiquitous was considered blasphemy in the villages and small towns. I hardly ever saw Vani wearing it one herself, though most of the college going girls had begun wearing it. Even today, majority of us have dual standards and would certainly be upset to know that our girls or women drink even as soft liquor as the beer. No wonder even Mohan was dumbstruck at the feat accomplished by Nirupama. He asked her in a raised voice, “Hey! What do you think you did? It wasn’t a soft drink!”

“I know. Nothing will happen to me. I will only feel sleepy. That’s all. Don’t worry,” she replied very casually.

“It seems she is used to drinking arrack!” I said facetiously.

“At least the arrack is controlled by the government. It seems she’s used to drinking illicit liquor,” Mohan said trying to conceal his anguish. Vani was giggling.

Mohan and I began to sip our drinks slowly, but the impact of what Nirupama had done seemed to have been weighing on our minds too, for I finished my peg in three gulps and Mohan finished his in two. However, Mohan didn’t offer any more rum to Nirupama while preparing the second drinks for us.

“Tomorrow we’ll leave as early as possible for Jog Falls. We will have sufficient time to view the falls from both sides of the valley,” Mohan instructed us while trying to light a cigarette, but Vani requested him not to smoke in the room as she would feel suffocated by the smoke.

Nirupama was speaking louder than usual now. Her cheeks were glowing and the eyes had become half shut, as if she was straining to open them wide. Vani looked disinterested in all this and was quietly reading some Mills and Boons type novel in Kannada.

Nirupama who had shed most of her inhibitions now, addressed me, “Harsha, we thought you wouldn’t come with us.”

“Why?”

“You always keep yourself so aloof from others. You are totally different, unlike others. You are intelligent, well-read, brought up in a bigger city and modern.”

“So what?”

“I remember how you disliked our department tour to Badami. The whole day you looked depressed. You hardly talked to anyone. You didn’t even eat anything the whole day. You went on smoking. You didn’t enjoy it, did you?”

It pained me to remember that day. How could I tell her that she was the cause of my resentment that day? After all, she’d chosen Mohan over me. I couldn’t tell her that it was envy that was seething inside me, and continues to do so even to this day.

“Ah, I did enjoy the trip,” I lied knowing fully well that none would believe me, “I have my own ways of enjoying things, you know.”

“Well, I thought you missed your girl friend of your college days,” Mohan said taking a large sip of liquor.

“Did you have a girlfriend?” Vani suddenly entered the conversation.

“All of us had girl friends long before coming to university. What do you think, we have never seen any girls before you?” Mohan replied for me.

I knew that Mohan had been madly in love with a girl when he was in pre-university college. That the affair ended in the girl’s father taking a transfer to a different place was also well known to all his friends. Bhaskar even used to tell how the girl was wailing and sniveling when she’d met Mohan for the last time in all graphic details.

I had had my shares of crushes too. It would sound ridiculous now to tell anybody that I was in love with a girl when I was just eight years old! The immediate to come to my mind was the picture of a dark lean girl, who I used to meet everyday in the bus on the way to undergraduate college. I had to change buses at the City Bus Terminus popularly know as CBT every day and would find Rajashree, who was my classmate majoring English literature, waiting for me, reserving a seat by her side. Whenever she laughed, which she did it all the time when I was with her, the dimples that appeared on her cheeks were so alluring and seductive that I’d fallen flat for her. It was pleasant beyond words to be sitting with her in a jam-packed bus, often those standing by my side shoving me hard against her soft, nimble body. She used to approach me during the college hours too, with a host of doubts and questions as though I was her teacher. All my hopes came crashing down when at the end of the final year, she introduced me to a tall, fair guy who was studying for M.Com and told me in a suggestive manner that he was to be her life partner. All my dreams were shattered to smithereens. But soon thereafter, I came to the university and brushed aside her memories as some forgettable, if not regrettable, infatuation.

When pitted against Mohan, insofar as all other things I was well ahead of him but for having experienced a failure in love. Though I didn’t explicitly lie to friends, I would never counter any insinuations they made or inferences they drew. It was the only way to create an image of myself that was better than that of Mohan. As an after thought, I must add, that I had been disappointed throughout my childhood, as far as my craving for a companion, whose image constantly fleeted in my mind. I had had too many failures, each giving me considerable heart ache and finally impelled me to arrive at a conclusion that there was nobody made for me! 

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts as well as the conversation that the others were having and presently, a waiter entered with dinner for us. Mohan had ordered North Indian dishes and a couple of plates of fried chicken. The girls were vegetarian at home, as per the customs of their caste, but Nirupama was obviously used to eating chicken and she relished it. Vani sat a couple of paces away and avoided looking at chicken. Although I was starving, I couldn’t eat much, for I concentrated on my drinks. Mohan ate very little too, obviously anxious to go to the next part of the evening. Nirupama said with a wink to me, “Eat little Harsha, you have a lot to do!” which I felt was disgusting. Vani blushed and wouldn’t lift her head from her dinner plate.

Surprisingly Mohan had consumed only two pegs, much less than his usual intake. I saw that there was at least two pegs of liquor left in the bottle. The moment the waiter cleared the plates, Mohan stood up and asked Nirupama to leave. When she was gone, he waited at the door beckoning me with a wink, and shook my hands to say  ‘Good Night’ but I felt he had placed something in my palm. When I opened my palms I saw a packet of condoms! I could hear my own heart pounding furiously while I closed the door and bolted it securely.

*** *** *** **

Thursday, August 19, 2010

If you must...

Most of the seniors were gone now, but quite a few remained, like a pain in the ass! But some of our own classmates but studying in different departments were assuming the role the seniors, forgetting quite easily what rigmarole they’d undergone when they were juniors. Some of them had developed intimacy with the local lads who were scum of the college going students. They would beat an unsuspecting and innocent boy just for the heck of it. A boy was beaten up on the campus just because these so called leaders could not tolerate his mannerism of twirling his moustache. Another boy was beaten by accusing him of staring at one of the members of the gang. There were now at least three gangs excluding ours, which was not violent at all.



I would never have thought of our group as a gang back then, least of all a violent gang. Our group was a defense mechanism, which neither I nor any other member of the group would have thought as such. It was a group of friends, and persons like Mohan and Bhaskar, being on friendly terms with many bad characters, could just use the right amount of noise and threats to keep others at bay. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have enjoyed the security and respected that our group commanded. It wasn’t notorious too, for a couple of boys like me in the group were academically successful too.



However, we did have a fatal attraction towards some bad things. Once late in the evening, after we had a few more drinks than what we normally would have, we missed the last bus. There were six of us, and we didn’t regret missing the bus. I was thinking that we could take an autorikshaw, but Mohan suggested that we could have another couple of drinks and walk back all the way to the campus. All welcomed this and I had to remain mute.

As we approached a hotel opposite the bus station, we saw a couple of women standing behind the grilled divider and staring at us. All of us looked at them, but Mohan stared at them hard. One of the women, who was hardly five feet tall but an enormous bust, smiled at him. As we walked past them, Pavan said, “Boy! They are waiting for the customers”.

“How’d you know?” I asked him.

“I know them by sight, by instinct,” he replied somewhat proudly.

“They might have missed their bus like us or they may be waiting for someone,” I said.

Now Bhaskar intervened, “It is not the case Harsha. Did you see the basket they were holding?”

I turned back and saw that each of the two women held a basket, not a vanity bag.

“Yes, what of that?” I asked him.

“It is the trade mark. They are from rural areas. They come with a basket so that people in their villages might think they were going to the city for shopping. After the business, they do shop here,” Bhaskar replied with a wink.

Now Mohan halted abruptly, turned back and began eyeing the short woman. She was still smiling at him invitingly. Mohan decided something and said, “I am going boys. Anybody interested in joining?”

Bhaskar objected, “No brother, they do not look clean. It is not safe. Please don’t even think of it”.

“Don’t worry. I will just talk to her and come back,” saying thus he walked towards the woman.

“Mohan, do come back. Don’t do anything rash,” I too warned him. He didn’t even look back. Although he was walking straight, I knew that he was stiff.

We watched him approach the short woman and stand by her side. Although he was of average height, he seemed to tower her. We watched her making some gestures while talking to Mohan, suggesting the hotel behind her. “He won’t come back!” Pavan said for the first time.

Suddenly the woman walked towards the grilled narrow entrance of the cheap and filthy hotel located on the first floor and Mohan promptly followed her. Soon, before we could even shout to him, both of them climbed the stairs and disappeared. “Oh shit,” Bhaskar cursed while Pavan looked at us as if saying, “Didn’t I say so?” I was too astonished to say anything. Vijay too looked bewildered.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Pavan said and started going away. All of thought he was going to pick up the remaining woman. But he walked to the counter of a liquor shop, bought a quarter of whisky and poured it into a half emptied bottle of water and came back. “While we are waiting, we may as well have some sips,” he said, handing me the bottle and lit a cigarette.

I took a large gulp from the bottle and coughed because it was too strong for me. Bhaskar immediately took the bottle from me and began sipping. After a while Pavan took the bottle and handed the half smoked cigarette to Bhaskar. Barely after twenty minutes of climbing the stairs, we saw Mohan descending them. His shirt was no longer tucked into his pants. He walked very fast to join us.

“Why did you do it brother?” Bhaskar erupted in anger.

“Hey, come on, I just couldn’t resist the urge brother,” he replied calmly and lit a cigarette.

“How was she Mohan? Cooperative?” Pavan asked without any curiosity. He seemed to have that experience. He might have had some derision in his tone, which I couldn’t grasp at that time.

Mohan saw the bottle in Pavan’s hands and he almost snatched it saying, “I need a booster now.” He took a couple of sips before going back to the question that was asked of him.

“It was ok brother. But damn those women, they are too businesslike. Act as if they have absolutely no time. She didn’t even care to remove her clothes. To remove each piece of cloth on her body, she demanded a price that I couldn’t afford to pay. Then she straightaway lied on her back, lifting the sari and spreading her legs. It was over in a matter of moments.” Mohan replied glumly.

“That’s why we tried to dissuade you brother,” Pavan said.

“That and the safety reasons,” Bhaskar said which might have been regarding police raids, I thought till he added, “It is not healthy.”

“Come on boys. Nothing will happen. Forget it. Whatever it was, I needed it. I got it,” Mohan said in a conclusive tone.

“You could have always resorted to Nirupama man,” Vijay rejoined.

“What do you understand about these things mama? Men like different varieties,” Mohan said looking mockingly at Vijay.

We walked nearly six kilometers to reach our hostel close to midnight.

After three days, Mohan came to my room and said, “Harsha, I need to talk to you.”

I was alone in the room and I could guess what he was going to say. “Problem Mohan?”

To my shock he closed the door, bolted it and lifted his lungi to reveal his private part. There were boils on the tip as well as the shaft. “This, and I am having burning sensation while peeing,” He said.

“Didn’t you use any protection that day?” I enquired to which he nodded in negative.

“Well, let’s go a doctor. This can’t be ignored.”

“Now?”

“Right now!” I was glad that he had chosen me to confide in rather than Bhaskar. I was glad to help him.

We went to a private hospital, waited for a couple of hours before the doctor called us in. After examining him, the doctor wrote a prescription and sternly advised Mohan, “I hope you have learnt your lesson. You’ve been very wise to come to me immediately. It could have been worse. Never do it again, if you must, ask your parents to marry you!”

Mohan was very grateful to me that I’d taken him to the hospital in such a hurry. I told him reading from what the doctor had scribbled on the case paper, that he’d contacted urethritis, although I didn’t know what the hell it meant.

In a couple of days, Mohan said, the boils had disappeared and the painful urination had ceased. I had read a lot of these things in the meanwhile and I told him what the doctor hadn’t, “If you must, use a condom!” though I knew it was not hundred percent safe.

***   ***   ***   **   *

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Holi

I never wanted to see some of our seniors again on the campus but that was not to be. Some of them returned as research students. Thanks to the rules, they were at least not staying in the same hostel as I did. Although I was never in their firing line, because of the solidarity of our group, I had seen them thrashing innocent boys without even an apparent reason. I had seen them threatening not only the hostelites, but also some of the teachers. They were a menace to the campus, but they enjoyed being so. They had once beaten up a conductor of the last bus that reached the campus at the stroke of midnight. Many students returning late from their native places had the advantage of reaching the campus at the cost of less than a rupee. Even for students visiting the movie houses to watch second show, the last bus was very convenient. However, after the conductor was roughed up, the service was stopped. I was certain it hardly made any difference to the culprits, but a large number of others suffered.

The day of Holi, the festival of colours, spawned terror among the teachers living on the campus. I remember being a part of the crowd of the senior hostelites that went on rampage in the campus. Most of the houses of the teachers were locked; obviously they had escaped the torture of facing the drunken students. Those who were in didn’t dare open their doors. In the hostel all types of drinks – whisky, rum, and gin -were poured in a bucket that is used for washing, and water was mixed. Everyone would drink from the mug, again used in the bathrooms, and nobody could know how much he drank. Once the buckets were emptied, the boys sufficiently stiff and uninhibited, would start playing Holi and within minutes it would be difficult to recognize who is who. All would start using obscenities and there would be hooting, roars of laughter, and mad dancing. It was permitted to act crazy for one day. All this was under the supervision and leadership of Sadanand Mane and Javed. Javed smoked grass too along with the so-called cocktails that was prepared in the bucket. He would empty a cigarette by rubbing it holding with the filter tip up and then suck the ready mix into the cigarette in one strong gasp. Amazingly, it took him hardly a few seconds to prepare it.

The procession was naturally towards the girls’ hostels, kicking and beating the doors of the already abandoned residences of teachers en route. Everyone hooted and shouted obscenities. There were some brave teachers who stayed back and opened their doors and allowed the boys to colour them and then they would give some money too. It was collected by Sadanand and was to be used for their evening parties. When nobody answered the knocks or rather kicks on the door, boys would yell at the top of their voices and someone began removing the bulbs fitted above the door or to the inside of the porch, which quickly assumed the form of a ritual. Hundreds of bulbs were collected and carried in a lungi that one of the guys had lent, happily remaining in his underwear, which fortunately was not a short, v-shaped one.

The procession reached the house of the Vice Chancellor and after one long hoot by the crowd, some one called VC addressing him politely, “Will you please come out VC sir?” One of the security guards said that the VC was not home. But who would believe him? Another fellow shouted the name of VC. Soon everyone was shouting the name of the VC. Some started shortening and distorting the name. In this part, the first name is distorted by suffixing a ‘ya’. Like ‘Basavaraj’ who is called endearingly as ‘Basu’ will be ‘Basya’ when used derogatively. It was unthinkable for me to use such derogative language for the VC, but every once seemed to enjoy it and more and more abuses flew out of the crowd. At last, the VC came out and asked, “What do you want boys? You should behave yourself. Please don’t shout,”

“It is Holi today sir. We just came to greet you sir. If you can just allow us to put some colour...” before Sadanand finished, the VC said, “I have already taken bath. But if you insist, there is no problem. Just make it quick.”

Instantly a few fellows rushed to him and in no time his face and clothes displayed all the colours. But that was not the end. Some guy had brought a battered tin box and he began to beat it in rhythm. All the boys had now surrounded the VC and started dancing. And someone had brought a safety pin, which he pressed on the bum of the VC, which made him jump and cry in pain. Some of the onlookers might have thought that the VC too was dancing with the boys, for the whole nasty business was repeated again and again till the security guard rescued the VC and took him inside.

They crazy procession retreated and continued towards the girls’ hostel. The gates were closed, but some girls were peeping through the windows of their room. I don’t know from where Javed had acquired a long staff and he held it between his legs swaying up and down. Boys started whistling, hooting and dancing behind him. It went on for another hour and the procession with Javed at the head covered all the three girls’ hostels. Just when we were crossing the third hostel, a police jeep was spotted at the corner and the procession was promptly broken. Boys ran helter-skelter and there was confusion and turmoil all around. Out of the jeep that screeched to halt just behind the disappearing crowd, two hefty constables came out waving their canes. I thought a couple of guys got some blows. My group had slowed down after the procession had crossed the second girls’ hostel and was left far behind in the procession, due to which we were fortunately saved.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Back in the Campus

When I got down from the autorikshaw before the main door of the hostel, which was going to be my home for the next couple of years, there was a shimmering sun and a beautiful scent of the wild flowers that had sprang up around the hostel was lingering in the air. The hostel was a three-storied building with a passage jetting out in the middle leading to the canteen and mess. On a big box cum bench at the entrance of the hostel, some boys were sitting, wearing lungis and shirts and keenly observing the newcomers. They obviously were the seniors. I was allotted the fourth room on the left wing of first floor. There were Science Boys’ Hostel, Research Scholars’ Hostel, and Self Cooking Hostel apart from our hostel, widely spread apart in the campus. These hostels were for boys and at another end of the campus; the girls had about three hostels. Research Scholars’ Hostel was separated from the by a wide and deep valley on the left side of my hostel and the opposite side was occupied by a vast patch of land with thick vegetative growth. Some trees looked to be belonging rare species that I had not come across. Later I came to know that it was called Botanical Garden. We could go the Main Building of the University using the shortcut through the botanical garden. It was a meandering path way created by constant use by the trespassers. One of the better-trodden paths led to the University Library.



I came to know, to my distaste, three freshers were allotted a room each for the first year called previous and two students could share a room if they are in final year. When I entered my room, it had already been occupied by a couple of students. I had to occupy the third cot adjacent to the window. The room was designed for two students but it was big enough to accommodate three. There were two cupboards built in the wall, which too had been taken possession of. A boy who was sitting on his cot looked up and asked me which department I belonged to. He had a fair complexion, a straight nose and a narrow chest covered with hair that was peeping out of his transparent shirt. He was approximately my height and his voice was a bit high pitched.



“Political Science” I replied. He seemed relieved and said, “ Nice, I too. Good that we both are going to the same department. I am Vijay. Where are you from?” I too was happy that there would be some company and said “ I am from Belgaum. My name is Harsha”. “We better be leaving now”, he said getting up from his bed, “if you are going to attend the class…you have already missed quite a few lectures. Where had you been after taking admission?”



I had thought of unpacking my luggage, but I didn’t have time. He handed me a duplicate key for my use while I was replying to his query. “ I was down with paratyphoid. It seems I have to meet the HOD to explain my absence”.



He looked a couple of years older than me and didn’t seem to know English well. I was used to talking to people in either English or Hindi in my college although my mother tongue is Kannada. We were conversing in Kannada and I could guess that he belonged to a farming family of Dharwad district. He told me after a while, when we were passing through the botanical garden, that he was from Hirekerur taluk of Dharwad district and had completed his graduation a couple of years ago from an adjoining town. He was a very mild type of person with lot of humility and compassion. He said he was lucky to have got admission to the master’s course this year.



When we reached the department, I parted company with him to meet the HOD. Some student was inside his chamber, and some others were waiting at the door. I saw that those who were going inside were removing their footwear at the door, as if entering a temple. A peon was standing there and enforcing it as if it was a rule. However, when my turn came, I gave an angry stare to him and he didn’t say anything to me. I knocked the door and when I heard “come in” in a bass, I entered the chamber of the HOD.



HOD was a tall man of about fifty and had a heavy body with a bulging paunch. He was wearing a thick spectacle with wide frame, through which his black eyes were looking bigger than they were. His voice too was very heavy, befitting his heavy frame. When he spoke, his mouth, which had thick lips, slanted and it looked even more pronounced because he wasn’t sporting moustache. He didn’t offer me a seat. His was an authoritative attitude and he looked more like a bureaucrat than a professor. “Yes, what is it you want?” he asked. I leaned on his large table while speaking unknowingly resting my weight on my hands. “ I am a student of previous year sir, and after taking admission I had fallen ill. That is why I could not attend any lectures till today.”



“Stand straight or else you may fall down on my table!” said he. I immediately corrected my posture. “ It is not a problem. Just give a letter stating the reasons for your absence and enclose a medical certificate. Hereafter attend the classes regularly. You may go now”. With these words, he dismissed me.



It was as much a shock to me as it was a surprise. I had thought that since all those who came to study here were graduates, they will be treated as grown ups if not as equals. But I did not know at that time, that more was to come.