Just another day in MNIT..

Any day between July 2004 and May 2008, MNIT Jaipur:
The alarm rings - drat, a lecture at 8!

I get up cursing for having slept so late the previous night; last time, I assure myself. Attempts to wake Vaibhav up are futile. He murmurs something in his sleep and doesn’t budge. I curse him and drag myself to the toilet - it’s all dirty - shit has happened. Curses fly again. Somehow manage to get through the chores.

Wake Vaibhav up again. He shows some sign of life this time. Last time, I am waking him up. There is no water - jugaado from another bathroom. Take quick bath. Rush to mess. Pick up bread and banana and walk to lecture room.

Attendance over and Manish has escaped. Machcha diya saale ne. Sid walks in, late as usual. Surely he won’t be allowed now. He is. But surely he won’t be given attendance. He is. Paro and Ketan not in class, it’s going to be a boring hour. Sound of an unmistakeable shrill laughter wakes you up. It is Divya’s. An hour has passed. Time flies.

Rush to the canteen. Jainy owes me 4 bucks, I have 6 of my own – can afford a cold drink. Gargu comes and orders tea for himself – costs him only 2 Rs. Smart guy. But then he ends up having 5 cups.

Next lecture is only at 12 followed by lunch. Calls for a mass bunk. No consensus. Day-schis madar. This is the last time such a proposal is even being tabled to them.

Sit in canteen. Mech batch arrives. Together they tell the latest hits of Anna. Mech batch leaves.
Shantanu arrives. Alone he tells the hits of the entire Civil Branch. Shantanu leaves.
‘Tronics batch arrives. More hits. Anshat, Sipani and Rohit all have different versions. ‘Tronics batch leaves.

Sit with Poonam, Amaresh, Dixit and Harsh among others. Discussions about our project mentor or CAT classes. Then get down to singing and banging the canteen tables. Cheap songs beget dirty looks. Full Mahual.

It’s noon already. Time flies. Vaibhav, Manish and I exchange looks. No words uttered but the question is clear - to go or not to go? Jainy announces he will attend classes. One for all and all for one - we all go. Day-schi madar. But this is the last time we are listening to him.

Go to lecture room. At least this one’s air conditioned. Darn, AC not working. Prof comes late. Spend time texting the girls. Free SMS was the greatest invention for us, students, second to micro-Xerox. Prof leaves late. No time to go to hostel now for lunch. Canteen, it is.

Abhishek joins in. Talks about IT lecturers and algorithms on. Abhishek listens. Abhishek leaves. Time for the lab. Assignments are not done. The good thing is no one else has done it. We pledge that this is the last time we are leaving our assignments incomplete. Some excuse conjured. Rush to the lab. Wow, as many as three computers have booted successfully today. Choms occupy it. No quarters given, none asked for. Two hours have passed. Time flies. Guest faculties are fun.

Mandatory visit to the canteen. It is 5 pm. Jainy says he wants to leave for home. We drag him to the hostel. Everyone has arrived back. Even Amit has woken up by now. Stories of the day exchanged. Full Mahaul.

Time for Sony Bakery. Arrange bikes. Eat patties or footlong. Eat puchkas. Go to Satkar Juice Centre. Drink pineapple juice. Someone says he is bored of the same routine/diet/place. The last time, we assure ourselves.

It is 8 pm. Jainy says he wants to leave for home. We drag him to the hostel. Some movie to be seen. We are open to the genre. Arjun (name changed) has some new ‘stuff’. Should we go to the nearby hostel and get it or should we watch ‘Forbidden’ again? Renee Rea, I tell you. First major decision we have had to make all day. We pass. We watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S. instead.

It is 11 pm. Time flies. We are hungry. Jainy says he wants to leave for home. We drag him to the Thadi. Patel, Saras, Alloy and the gang are there. Gossips are exchanged. Rumours take birth. OP brings maggi and omelet. People keep pouring in. Someone comes because he has no money and wants a loan, while someone else comes because he is in a mood to treat. Someone has come because he is happy, while another has come because he is sad. Some came because they had passed, while some others came because they had got a back. More gossip exchanged. More rumour borne. OP brings more maggi and omelet. Full Mahaul.

It is 2 am. Time flies. Our assignments are still pending. We look at each other. Where is Vaibhav? On the phone with his gal. A quick call to Shruti is made. Jugaad arranged. This is the last time, we assure ourselves. Jainy finally gets to leave for home. Day-schi madar.

We reach hostel. Discussions about class timing the next day. Abhishek asks that dreaded question, "Ab kya?". That dreaded smile by Vaibhav. Manish gives that dreaded nod. A deck of cards makes its way out. 29, it is. Game on.

It is 4 am. Time flies. We go to sleep cursing because we would have to get up early again; We promise ourselves that this was the last time.

***

Sometimes, it just looks like yesterday. Time flies.

Nagme hain, shikwe hain, kisse hain, baatein hain. Baatein bhool jaati hain; Yaadein yaad aati hain.

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... Phir na palat ke dekha dobara

Please read the first part of this story [Link] in order for this to make sense. Note: The author is in no way responsible if this does not make sense even after reading the first part.

This is a continuation of the true story.

Over the past three days, I have been flooded by fan-mails, tweets, SMSes and comments telling me that they’re dying to read the rest of the story. So here goes.

Ok fine - everything beyond this point is true.

We had formulated a plan. Now we’ve always been firm believers and proponents of planning. We always plan everything right down to the most minute of details. We hate people who leave scope for last minute glitches. Rohit and Manish went to McDonald’s, while Poonam and I went to Mall 21 so that we could inspect everything from the windows up there. (For the uninitiated, Mall 21 is opposite McDonald’s in MI Road).

Poonam and I reached Mall 21 and discovered that it didn’t have a single window which overlooked McDonalds. Please ignore whatever I had said about planning. Uma called to inform she was already there. I asked her what was she wearing. “An orange top”, came the reply. We called up Manish immediately, who had spotted someone in an orange top with another girl in red top. “Was this going to end in an orgy?” was my immediate thought.

We asked the soldiers on the ground to monitor their every movement and report back anything suspicious. Rohit and Manish got down to ordering burgers. Uma called up again. I asked her if she was alone and she replied in the affirmative. I told her I didn’t see her in McDonald’s. She said she was waiting outside the joint.

Poonam and I stepped out of the mall and across the road saw a girl waiting outside McDonald’s wearing an orange top. No one seemed to be around her. We couldn’t chicken out at that moment, and crossed the road. We went to the hawker selling lemonade outside Raj Mandir (about 15 metres from where she was standing) and ordered ourselves two glasses. We had the target locked, and she had no clue about it. Jason Bourne, I hope you are taking notes.

We spotted a muscular man at the take-away counter a few meters behind her. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt which showed off his muscles and revealed a tattoo stretched across his biceps. He was eating the burger he had ordered. “Why would anyone order from a take-away if he had to eat there only”, screamed our brains (please recall that we were being coached on logical thinking in those days). He walked closer to her. I chewed on my straw. The tattoo became clearer now – it revealed a mermaid. Duh. He crossed her and went on the other side of the outlet. Our fears were baseless. She was alone.

Poonam paid for the lemonade. We approached her, and then I saw it clearly. Her eyes! Brown like the Vegan Shake of CCD. Calm, yet oozing out like the sauce in Chocolate Bomb of Little Italy. Mysterious yet comforting like the sight of mom-cooked food. After staring at her for a couple of seconds, I just had one question: Kya aapke toothpaste mein namak hai? Who put the stars in your eyes? Her eyes said so much.

We confirmed if she was Uma and I confessed I was the one who messaged her. She asked, “Tum Mahesh ho?”. She looked disappointed.

Her entire life must have played back in front of her eyes – memories of all the times when some guy (probably named Mahesh) used to call and bother her, memories of her past troubled relationships; and she looked disappointed because it could have all been avoided if only she had met me before. As I had already mentioned, her eyes said everything.

I didn’t want to build any relationship on the foundations of falsehood so told her how I got her number. She was confused, because she had gone to the institute just once to enquire. I told her that it was all a joke and that I was sorry. She, and her eyes, simultaneously said, “Ye sab ek mazaak tha?”. Before I could get myself to say anything, she walked away from us.

When Manish and Rohit arrived at the scene, I had one arm stretched and was chanting her name loudly trying to call her. I phoned her but she wouldn’t receive my call. She never replied to my messages.

End of story, but there are some points I would like to make:
1) The lemonade sucked.
2) Uma, if you ever read this, I am still sorry. Agar jaane anjaane mein maine tumhara dil dukhaya hai, toh ho sake to mujhe maaf kar dena.
3) She probably would have never joined the coaching institute, so I am sorry to them as well.
4) Since I am in the mood: to all the people, who, for some reasons read this - hahaha.
5) Her eyes were really special. I don’t think I remember anything about her face, but I’ll definitely recognize those eyes if ever I see them again.

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Milte hi jisne Uma tha mujhko...

This is a true story.

I had just come out from a two-hour session in the gym. I was marveling at my six-packs when the phone rang. It was Uma again and she was begging me to meet her.

Ok fine - everything beyond this point is true.

The year was 2007 when I was a student in Jaipur. It was the year of romance and love. Err, it was also the year when Kareena and Shahid Kapoor broke up, and it was the year when Rizwanur Rahman was honour-killed by his in-laws. But it was the year when “Aap Ka Suroor - The Real Love Story” was released. So FTW.

I’ve digressed. We (the famous “Hum Baraah”) were sitting in our CAT coaching classes. We had already helped Deepak (name changed) figure out how many upward steps he needed to take if he wanted to reach a higher storey in an escalator going down, when he could have just taken the escalator going up; and were on our way to helping a dog catch a thief who for some awesome reason chose to run in strange patterns (disclaimer: no real dogs were hurt in the whole process). In short, we were developing our logical thinking skills. It was the time when the free SMS pack was unleashed on pre-paid customers. We were yet to reach an era of Idea 3G when our phones would help us forget sex, but at least free messaging helped us forget our classes.

I’ve digressed again. A sheet was circulated for us to enter our names. We had just been taught to approach a problem from all angles. So, the ideal student in me immediately flipped the page, to find other names and phone numbers there. One of the entries was Uma (name not changed for its sheer classiness and impact) (number withheld – I won’t do what the Amitabh of KBC did).

Just to show I have no hard feelings towards KBC, and also since this blog is getting a little one-sided, let me ask you a quiz question. You can leave your responses in the comments section. What sound does Uma represent most closely, when said properly with the right emphasis on certain syllables? Is it
A) A slapping sound.
B) The sound produced when bat hits ball.
C) Sound produced while kissing.
D) Sound produced when Manmohan Singh makes a speech.

Ok we have a story to complete, so getting back to it. We exchanged three SMSes (‘Wats up’, ‘Who’s this’, ‘You Forgot?’ types) and everything was going according to the ‘Hitchhiker's Guide to the Most Boring Conversations’, when she called. I could only evade her questions about my identity for a while. In most situations, the name Manish is enough to get you out of trouble, so I told her I was Manish, immediately regretting it, in case she approached the coaching institute. “Mahesh?” she asked, throwing a rope at me. “Bhatt, of course” I responded, accepting it with glee. Then she bombarded me with a series of questions, even giving me multiple options on a couple of counts (<sigh, insert another KBC joke here>).

It made me uncomfortable when she asked me if I was the same person who used to call her earlier. I had once read a story where a person makes crank calls to random people and tells them he knows their ‘secret’ (Abhay Deol style in ZNMD). Then one day he ends up calling a gangster who manages to trace him and kills him. Now, I was never the types who are sure what exactly they wanted to do with life, but ending it was never a consideration.

Then she said she wanted to meet me. Immediately Don came to my mind. “Mujhe do tarah ki ladki pasand nahi. Ek wo, jo mere pass aane mein waqt lagade, aur doosri jo bahut jaldi aa jae”. I did not tell her this, though. We hung up without having arrived at any conclusion.

I had just had a heavy dinner and was lying flat on my stomach in my hostel room. I had just burped when the phone rang. It was Uma again and she was ordering me to meet her.

Over the next twelve hours, (over SMS and phone) she repeatedly asked me to meet her. Her tone ranged from threat to order to plea. She called me again the next afternoon, asking me to meet her near McDonald’s in MI Road. I suggested alternatives. I couldn’t have allowed her to start dictating terms so early in our relationship. She didn’t listen. It was at that moment when I felt ‘the spark’ for the first time.

I told her I won’t be coming. She said she would still wait and expected me to come. My friends and I discussed the various endings that this story could possibly take. Not many were pleasant. But one of them ended with me celebrating the golden jubilee of my marriage with her, in the company of our children and grandchildren. Taking risks was another thing I was taught.

We set out well before the scheduled hour. Rohit and Manish went in one bike, while Poonam rode me in his scooty.

To be continued... [here]

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Who let the dogs out?

So I’m back from a three day trip of Jaipur/NCR. It was an epoch-making event for mankind. I managed to give a new lease of life to the dying human race, thereby scripting my name in golden letters, forever in the pages of history. All right, all right, I better stop. By the way, only half of all this is a lie – I did go to Jaipur/NCR after all. It was a trip meant to be a surprise for my friends there. But thanks to Shantanu (who leaks more than a sieve), it almost got ruined. I use the word almost here, because, ironically enough, thanks to Shantanu again (or rather his reputation), no one believed him.

“Omelet, chai, sutta, chaka chak, maggi” These are the things which the menu in MNIT ki thadi still says (yes I was there - I wouldn’t let go a chance to visit the place again). And an outsider would believe that these are the only things which were on offer. But ask any MNITian what he derived out of thadi, and he’ll tell you more. If the pre-engineering days of a student were characterized by “Maa ka khana”, these four years were definitely all about “Mai Ka Khana”.

Thadi was where life was; the place to be in MNIT. If you were hungry, you thronged to this place. If you were thirsty, it was the thadi again. If you were drunk - the same answer. Passed an exam? Thadi it was. Got a back? Thadi again. You went there when you had a treat to give and you went there when you were broke (thadi even gave credit). You went there when you wanted company and you went there when you wanted to be alone. The place where all rumours and gossip (about the departments, profs, fellow students and the GH) started. The thadi has been a witness to so much GYAN being transferred – a witness to so much bhasad.

It’s a pity now that all the charm, all the mahaul is a thing of the past. It was always on a downward trend during our stay in MNIT, but we were lucky to have enjoyed, to a very large extent, the essence of all that the thadi stood for.

If Jaipur left me ‘dry’, Delhi/Gurgaon didn’t. If the trip to the thadi was a dampener, Delhi/Gurgaon had many ‘high’ points. Boy did we have a blast! It was the biggest SMDO get-together after our paths separated post B. Tech. Now, friends are always the source of your strength, always pushing you towards that little bit extra (be it the extra peg or the extra shot or the extra pint). And this trip was no different.

Anyways, although the trip did not boast of any major ‘hits’ (I’m not counting the one which a ‘sick Manish’ did, because that was after the trip), but it was wonderful just being together. From being asked to leave from even a place like McDonald’s (politely of course), to chilling out for hours in Mocha; from an evening in South Ex, to a late night ride to Guragoan, from being woken up past midnight, to discussing the special idiosyncrasies of pigs in MP, from bowling in BlueO to being blown over in BlueO; and of course, from dinner at Leela Kempinsky, to immediately following it up with coffee at the Convergys dhaba – it was sheer fun.

And of course there was booze. :) The best part about booze is that, unlike bournville chocolates, you do not need to do anything to earn it. Any loser on the street has the right to it. But when friends are together, everyone is the winner.

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