Lalbagh, is a different league compared to the other hostels. Lalbagh’s like a fortress. A ‘H’ shaped building, 5 floors, and a quadrangle at the centre. And there’s a narrow tar path running to meet it, and you’d most definitely see a house with the words ‘Shakila’ engraved outside, with a dog inside barking its head off to any passerby.
Not to mention how the lalbaghites responded in an equal manner. Most of you will agree that there’s nothing comparable to it. Lemme run through a few glimpses of that place:
a) Aditya climbing down from the 4th floor balcony unto the window ledge and precariously trying to get hold of the room key through the shutter window in order to get into the room.
b) That broken down sofa way at the back, where some of us were lucky enough to sit our asses on, in the tv room, that showed, many a….. ahem… um.. shows that must not be spoken about… um, here..
Tv was more of an educational ride I’d say, to those who did nothing apart from sit at home, study their books, and write their tests to get into this med college.
c) that big yellow dustbin upon which some of us sat upon after dinner and had mindless conversations about everything…
well! I’ve deviated from the point again! Coming back to ashish now.
Ashish, as we all know, was our first year CR, a subject of controversy, laughter and brotherly bonding. Ashish is a thoroughbred Rajasthani Jat. I remember his first announcement as Class representative. He stands far at one end of that huge lecture hall that is in the Bejai Campus and says into the mike:
“all the footballers, are playing the football, in the football field, so please cheer up”.
Rofl!
Anyway, there was this one night when I was trying hard to munch on some terrible chaurasia anatomy, in my room which was in the corner of the 2nd floor, when I heard a mumble.
Which turned into a royal rumble.
Ok. That sounded terrible. But anyway, it sounded as though a bunch of hooligans were let loose. I ran outside my room and looked down from the corridor/balcony and looked into the quadrangle. I saw Ashish down, at the centre, and a group of guys around him. There was shrieking, howling and screaming all over the place.
Since there wasn’t anyway, any of us could give him a taste of his own medicine, that he dispensed to us during our birthdays(read, squeezing, slapping on the back, extorting as much pain from the male areola as possible) we had to scale things up.
A few guys filled up buckets of water and threw them from different floors and into the quadrangle, and right onto ashish. Drenching not only him but a lot others as well.
And the other thing that happens during birthdays at twelve, is the frenzy and excitement that surrounds a gang of guys together. Its simply MAD. Once they get together, guys simply forget who’s birthday it is, and find some excuse to go around bashing. So here, one person would simply shout out another fellow’s name, the crowd lets go off the bday guy, and hold the other fellow’s hands and legs, carry him, and the next minute, he’s kicked/thrown to the ceiling/and has his clothes ripped apart.
The mess manager, having been rudely woken by the commotion, came out in the quadrangle when.. “SPLASH!” he became drenched with a full bucket of water thrown from the third floor.
The noise of course, woke up the neighbours, and the police was called. And few hostelites happened to abuse the police too, with the ‘new vocabulary’ they knew of the local language.
It was mayhem. One other person picked up the doberman’s( security guard) cap and started throwing it around. From one person to another. Until we found him running around for it.
Needless to say, the incident was reported to the dean etc, until we were known as ‘one crazy batch’!
More later….
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