K.O.T.A Kiss Of The Angel

A journey of an IIT aspirant…

Kshitij Mall

All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the

author.

© Kshitij Mall http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~mall/

Title song by Gaurav Ludhiyani

(Verne Entertainments)

Music by Rishabh Gupta & Mohammed Ibrahim

Website

http://www.kissoftheangel.com/

Facebook Fanpage http://www.facebook.com/pages/KOTA-Kiss-Of-The-Angel/212773538735695

Contents Acknowledgements ...............................................................i

Dedicated to ................................................................... iii

PROLOGUE ................................................................ 1 1. INCEPTION ........................................................ 4 2. VIGYAN NAGAR ............................................... 7 3. 513-RANK OR ROLL NO.?................................ 9 4. SATTU BHAIYA’S RAGGING ........................ 11 5. VECTORS-1 ....................................................... 14 6. VECTORS-2 ....................................................... 17 7. SANGAM MESS ................................................ 20 8. APQ..................................................................... 23 9. WHOSE PITCH IS THIS ?–Part 1 .................... 26 10. WHOSE PITCH IS THIS?–Part 2 ..................... 29 11. YES SIR .............................................................. 32 12. MI-1 ..................................................................... 34 13. OM CINEPLEX ................................................. 37 14. SHUFFLED ........................................................ 40 15. SPLITSVILLA .................................................... 43 16. PHODU .............................................................. 45 17. NAYI PADOSAN .............................................. 48 18. MATRIX ............................................................. 50 19. SORRY BHAI! .................................................... 53

20. FIGHT CLUB ..................................................... 56 21. YE KATTA......................................................... 59 22. CHULHA PATAK DIYA .................................. 62 23. F.R.I.E.N.D.S ...................................................... 65 24. F.I.R ..................................................................... 68 25. VALEDICTION ................................................ 71 26. GIRL IN GREEN .............................................. 74 27. MISSION NASA, LANDING KOTA .............. 77 28. SHE BE THE ONE ........................................... 79 29. SQUINT FACTOR-THE FEAR FACTOR ...... 81 30. JAB WE MET ..................................................... 84 31. WHAT IS LOVE? .............................................. 88 32. BLACK BIRTHDAY ......................................... 91 33. HUM TUM ......................................................... 94 34. CRUSHED .......................................................... 97 35. MEMENTO...................................................... 100 36. LB BYE! SMITA HI! ........................................ 103 37. PRE-DIWALI ................................................... 106 38. WHEATOS OR CHEATOS? .......................... 109 39. GUNDEY ......................................................... 112 40. COUNTER STRIKE ....................................... 115 41. KEEDA ............................................................ 118 42. BF ...................................................................... 120 43. BAAZIGAR ...................................................... 123 44. MAID ................................................................ 126

45. FLOOD ............................................................ 129 46. JOHNY GADDAR .......................................... 132 47. SPLITSVILLA-2 ............................................... 135 48. UNSTOPPABLE .............................................. 138 49. PARANORMAL ACTIVITY .......................... 141 50. MISS GURUKUL ............................................. 144 51. THE SOCIAL NETWORK ............................. 147 52. FINALLY A POET .......................................... 150 53. MAHASHIVRATRI ......................................... 152 54. SHE’S GOT THE LOOK................................ 155 55. SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE .......................... 158 56. DREAMGIRL .................................................. 161 57. MATRIMONY CLASS .................................... 163 58. HOLI HAI! ....................................................... 166 59. PHYSICAL EDUCATION ............................. 169 60. INDOOR CRICKET ....................................... 172 61. SCANDALS OF KOTA .................................. 175 62. BOARDS-2005 ................................................. 178 63. SCREENINGS-2005 ........................................ 180 64. JUDGEMENT DAY ........................................ 183 65. VALEDICTION-2 ........................................... 186 66. 2nd INNINGS ................................................... 188 67. ORKUT ............................................................ 190 68. YAHOO! ........................................................... 192 69. INFATUATION? ............................................. 194

70. WELLEN .......................................................... 196 71. RS CONFIGURATION .................................. 198 72. AG’S LIST......................................................... 202 73. DATE WITH HER DAD ................................ 205 74. DOSTANA ....................................................... 208 75. BACKSTREET GIRLS .................................... 210 76. MAID-2 ............................................................. 213 77. 300 ..................................................................... 216 78. RDB................................................................... 218 79. QUOTA HIKE ................................................. 221 80. THE ULTIMATE SOLUTION ...................... 224 81. YFE ................................................................... 227 82. LAST CHANCE ............................................... 231 83. VALENTINE’S-1 ............................................. 234 84. VALENTINE’S-2 ............................................. 237 85. VALENTINE’S-3 ............................................. 239 86. VALENTINE’S-4 ............................................. 242 87. VALENTINE’S-5 ............................................. 245 EPILOGUE-1 .......................................................... 248 EPILOGUE-2 .......................................................... 250 Glossary .................................................................... 256

Acknowledgements My sincere thanks to Bansal Classes for

making me what I am today. Thanks to Purdue University for accepting me as its part and giving me 23 inspiring NASA astronauts including Neil Armstrong as alumni. Thanks to Infosys for helping me hone my writing skills along with my coding skills. My proofreaders Dr. Neehar Singhal, Dr. Pranava Manjari, Miss Vartika Singh, Mr. Arpit Mathur and Mr. Nitish Singh immensely improved this novel and gave valuable inputs.

A warm thanks to Mr. Rahul Kumar, for helping me at a critical time.

Thanks to my friends Abhay Singh, Rahul Raghuwanshi, Piyush Prasad, Vipul Patel, Vibhore Mathur, Arpit Mathur, Sitanshu Das, Mudit Mangal, Abhishek Sharma, Vivek Poddar, Nitesh Kumar, Akhil Kharub, Saurabh Audhichya, Arihant Jain, Ankur Sinha, Nilaksh Nag, Ankit Fogla, Vineet Goyal, Prabal Negi, Anish Anand, Ravi Verma and Sachin Jain, who formed a part of my life at Kota.

A special thanks to Swetika Sachan, who inadvertently helped me, a lot.

I am really proud to be a student of Dr. V.K. Bansal, Mr. Shiamak Davar, Dr. Sonal Rajora, Dr. C.V. Chandrashekhara, Mr. Prashant Chauhan, Dr. Pushkar Rai, Mr. Siddharth Premi, Mr. Shishir Mittal, Mr. Suyash Pratap Singh, Mr. Amit Gupta, Sister Philo, Sister Philomene, Mrs. Ruben, Mr. Santhosh Berne and Mr. Karthik Puttaswamy. My microscopic achievements are all a result of your macroscopic efforts.

ii Acknowledgement

Thanks to Gaurav Ludhiyani (Lui) from Verne Entertainments and Rishabh Gupta for helping me with the title song of this novel. Vartika Singh, Akhil Gupta, Akansha Singh, Divyendra Singh, Abhishek Gupta, Vineet Goyal, Anand Kumar, Abhishek Srivastava, Raonak Shukla, Pooja Bhagchandani, Sharad Singh, Abhishek Sharma, Ankur Srivastava, Aditya Prasad, Aditya Vardhan Singh, Stuti Jaiswal, Pratibha Vajpeyi, Aditi Rana, Sparsh Goel, Vishal Verma and Shubankar Saxena encouraged me by participating in my video shoots for the trailers.

Thanks to Aamir Khan, Sachin Tendulkar, Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam and Anna Hazare Ji for inspiring the youth of this nation. Thanks to Youth For Equality for fighting against inequality, corruption and terrorism.

I strongly condemn hurting animals including pigs. I don’t believe in ghosts and Planchette. I abhor caste system and I have given my personal views on it. Work is my religion and Hindustani is my caste. This is purely a fictional story that conveys my message for my countrymen.

Please refer to the glossary for easy reading.

Dedicated to

My teachers from Bansal Classes, Mount

Carmel Convent School, JSSATE Noida, Infosys Technologies Limited, SDIPA who taught me all important lessons of life.

My dad, Dr. V.P. Mall, who has always been

my hero for his principles and his fighting spirit to save thousands of lives.

My Angel, Miss Vartika Singh. My motherland, which defines my very

existence.

PROLOGUE Jan 6, 2009 I boarded an AC three tier sleeper coach of

Poorva Express at Delhi. I preferred AC coach because

1. It forbids the entry of General Class and Waiting List Passengers. Waiting list is a void term in its dictionary. Sleeper Class bogies are flooded with torrents of waiting list passengers and local passengers. About general class coaches I can say just one thing-

The Degree of Freedom of Movement in a general class coach is zero.

2. A train journey through North India in winters can freeze you to death, even if all the doors and windows of the sleeper coach are properly closed. A small slit is always left open for the notorious chilly breeze to break through and make you shiver, setting your mobile body to the vibrator mode.

Soon the section of my compartment got filled with the temporary owners of the berths. The section comprised of eight berths- two each of lower, middle and upper, a side lower and a side upper. I love to be temporary owner of upper berth as I can sleep on it anytime at my will. The worst is middle berth since it requires a request proposal to others to shift from the lower berth over which its foundations are to be laid. An additional effort to install the middle berth has to be taken. Who wants to work against gravity?

2 Kshitij Mall

And unfortunately I was the temporary owner of the worst.

Then a lady entered with many bags and the whole section was finding it hard to accommodate them. A girl came strolling toward her and started adjusting things. A young chap was sitting in front of me. Two uncles, one Punjabi and another Bengali, were sitting by my side.

I borrowed upper berth from that lad for a few hours and read Deception Point. I hate boring train journeys. So I started chatting with that lady. She told me that she was returning from Kota and was heading toward Howrah.

‘So what were you doing at Kota?’ I asked. ‘Actually my daughter took coaching for IIT-

JEE there,’ she replied. ‘Which coaching center?’ ‘Gurukul! The best for IIT-JEE.’ How could I ever forget it? I smiled. ‘So you know Gurukul?’ the girl inquired in

excitement. ‘It’s popular in the whole nation. Who would

know it better than me? I was its part for three years,’ I clarified.

The girl was excited to meet another of her species, the Gurukulites.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked. ‘Varsha. And yours?’ ‘Akash…Akash Malhotra.’ Meanwhile others were feeling bored and

irritated. Those two uncles were then on the upper berth, sleeping. Varsha was sitting facing me and her mom was sleeping next to her. The lad was sitting beside me.

K.O.T.A 3

‘People see results. They never care for what affects those results,’ I commented.

‘Yeah! They never see the magnitude of our efforts,’ Varsha said.

‘They just ask whether you passed or failed,’ the lad pointed.

‘As the journey is long enough, can I tell you an interesting story centering around Gurukul?’ I asked.

‘Why not? Carry on,’ Varsha said. The lad nodded. ‘What’s your name dude?’ I asked. ‘Vipin.’ As he was not familiar with Kota and its terms,

I decided to narrate my story in detail. Sound of train acted as its background music.

‘Kota…’

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11th Class Series 1

INCEPTION

Kota. The abode of study. Study of all kinds- medical science,

engineering, commerce, management and most important of all, the study of life. A place where the best dwell.

Where study is the lifeline of all forms of business. From a tea stall to a newspaper vendor, from a stationary proprietor to gaming zones, from landlords to bookshops, from mess centers to cinema halls- all owed their existence to it.

I always had the notion of two types of academic life-school life and college life. But then I came to know about the third.

In India, the weight of a school bag filled in accordance with the monotonous time-table of the school is more than that of the student carrying it. But I was alleviated of that weight.

I was there to give the entrance test of the best institute for IIT- JEE preparation not only in Kota but also in India.

Gurukul. It sounds like Guru Cool, full of cool gurus. It’s a funny thing that even for Gurukul there were special coaching centers that trained students to get into it.

I checked into hotel Vikranta Palace, at a walking distance from the station. I didn’t have an iota of knowledge about IIT-JEE and Gurukul. I

K.O.T.A 5

just knew one thing- to get into IITs with a good rank, get into Gurukul.

The scene around the station area including the hotel was that of people scurrying about like mice. But there was always something to look forward to. Mango Shake, made of real pulp. It contained 99.9% mango and rest sugar. The quantity and quality of the shake can quench anyone’s thirst.

At the test center I saw for the first time in my life, a huge crowd of claimants of the few seats of the best IIT-JEE coaching institute of India. The crowd was a direct index of the population of India. I never expected such a high level of competition at an initial stage. But I always believed in the slogan of Mountain Dew- Darr Ke Aage Jeet Hai (Fight Fear). The question paper took me with surprise. At schools, usually students score full marks. But at Kota, in the exam hall I felt cheated. That was a less friendly world than the school. At school I was a prince and there I was rendered a popper. I was striving hard to win that battle of wits and considered myself a Soldier Of Fortune.

Fortune favors the brave. I thought I did it. My expressions were just like

those of Sreesanth’s, as if I made Adam Gilichrist bold out for a duck.

I had my lunch at a restaurant nearby. There I saw familiar faces, competing with me a few minutes ago.

I was back to Nagpur awaiting results. A week later

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A phone call from my Uncle who saw my result on the internet.

‘Congratulations!’ A scintillating word from his mouth that sent

shivers down to my spine. ‘You have been selected in Gurukul.’ It was equivalent to a trip to Mars for me. I

was ready for a roller-coaster ride in a totally alien world. I was too excited to fall asleep that night.

A week later I hopped into Chennai –Jaipur express to reach Kota Junction at 2:30 A.M.

K.O.T.A 7

2

VIGYAN NAGAR

To-Let. That board was found outside each house. It’s

a common practice to rent certain rooms to students to save tax and for security. Landlords usually preferred the ground floor for their family. At many places I found an i inserted in To-Let to make it ToiLet, which prompted many common people to utilize it for such purposes.

Academic population of Kota was concentrated at a place whose very name was scientific- Vigyan Nagar. I got a room in 1-PA-90. Houses in Kota follow Hindi letters nomenclature and my respect for people there grew because of it.

History suggests that Vigyan Nagar and in fact whole Kota comprised of single floor households. But academic revolution laid the foundation stone for the future skyscrapers of Kota. The height of the buildings increased day by day, so much that a competition started amongst them.

Competition. The word is at the heart of Kota. If one wants

to know the real definition of competition, welcome to Kota. It’s among students, landlords, restaurants, institutes, internet cafes and what not.

Kota breathes competition as its oxygen. When I stepped into 1-PA-90, I found bicycles

of various kinds- Ranger, Slim and Sporty, standing on the ground floor as if for some exhibition. These are the basic means of transport

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used by students. I went upstairs to find two rooms present outside the sub-entrance of first floor. Two guys were standing there at the balcony, their faces staring at me and filled with question marks all over.

Who is he? Where did he come from? I skipped to my room, which was the first one

from the sub-entrance. After dumping my luggage there, I came out. On moving ahead, I found two more rooms facing each other. There were two attached common bathrooms adjacent to the washbasin near my room. Privacy was at stake with such an arrangement of bathrooms that allowed one to peek through the other side.

I saw a boy holding the receiver of the landline phone and crying. His mom was probably at the other end. He was affected by home sickness. His name was Preet.

In the eve, I came out for a stroll to check out shops nearby. I discovered an astonishing fact. In one single shop you can get pens, Maggi, Mattresses, Ice-creams and what not. People there talked sense, science and business. Science was an integral part of that scientific society. I was going to be introduced to many more terms in the coming introductory meet.

K.O.T.A 9

3

513-RANK OR ROLL NO.?

Introductory Meet of Gurukul at IP School It was the school that held the Limca Book Of

Records for the highest population of mosquitoes. No school could ever match the staggering figure of mosquito to student ratio as it did there.

After waiting in a long Q for nearly an hour, I managed to grab hold of a seat in the fourth row.

Have I to compete with these many students for the whole year?

I was ignorant of the fact that they comprised a mere % of the net IIT-JEE applicants across the country. For the time being, there were just 700 extra-ordinary people in the auditorium (audi), sharing a seat with me.

I was sitting beside a short statured lad. ‘Hi!’ he said. ‘Hi!’ We had a handshake. ‘Naveen from Meerut. And you?’ ‘Akash, from Nagpur.’ ‘Do you have any idea why we are sitting here?’

I asked. ‘Probably we are being allotted batches,’ he

guessed. ‘Batches?’ I had no prior idea about that term, an integral

part of Gurukul going to be associated with us all. ‘Parents, please vacate seats for the students as

this meet is meant for them. Students are required to come and collect the introductory sheet after

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their name is announced. Please maintain decorum inside the audi till you are here,’ a voice commanded.

It was from the vocal cords of the most powerful personality of Kota- Dr. Tayal Sir, the founder and chairman of Gurukul. He was in his fifties but his voice was much younger.

One by one, the sheets were distributed. Some felt elated, some dispirited. Both feelings were a riddle to me. Finally my name was announced. I jumped from my seat to fetch the sheet. But I got a three digit code instead of any batch no.

513. What was that? My Gurukul roll no. or the sheet

serial no.? Naveen came glaring at the three digit code

written on his sheet. He hit the ground in despair. 507. The code on his sheet. ‘F-7! Shit! I can’t believe it,’ he said. I was totally puzzled. F-7? I consoled Naveen by putting my right hand

on his shoulder. ‘Is 507 your new serial no.?’ He glared at me. Oh! Those looks of his, just

like a dragon ready to burn me with the fire inside him. I kept my lips sealed. His weird looks were a direct index of the stupidity of my question.

‘What’s your number?’ he asked. ‘513’, I replied instantly. ‘So what does it

mean?’ Naveen then had a hand shake with me. I was

still clueless. ‘Buddy, we are in same batch and 513 is your rank.’

‘What?’

K.O.T.A 11

4

SATTU BHAIYA’S RAGGING

Gurukul was the abode of top rankers and my place was 513 among 700 such top brains. Whole Vidarbha would have cursed me for such results as I was the top gun to represent them.

I kept myself locked inside my room for hours till a knock at my door forced me to open it. I did have a peculiar habit of being shy among strange faces and there was a threshold after which I mixed up. The door that got rusted by the moisture of time unveiled the mischief hidden behind.

‘Hi chap! Would you mind joining us for some fun?’ Preet asked, breaking the silence.

Us? ∫ 푑푝 = us where δ is any natural number greater than one

and dp is the change in the number of persons, as far as integration goes. That was for the first time I espied mischief in Saahil. He was one of us.

‘Have you ever heard the remix version of the song Gumnaam Hai Koi (title song of Bollywood horror movie Gumnaam)?’ he asked. I was clueless.

He rushed to his room and returned with a blanket. Preet came up with a candle and a match box. Their eyes pointed toward the door of the smallest room of all, in front of Preet’s.

‘Let’s do a little ragging of Sattu Bhaiya (SB),’ Preet proposed.

12 Kshitij Mall

SB was in 12th class and in L-4 batch, the fourth best in L, M, N series. SB was taking a nap. His sleeping posture reminded us of JANA-GANA-MANA pose, as if National Anthem was played just before he was to fall asleep. His body remained stiff.

‘Shit, the windows are closed!’ Saahil exclaimed.

‘Let me take care of this situation. Saahil, you start dancing like a witch. I would wave this burning candle. Let’s sing in unison. What’s your name buddy?’

‘Akash Malhotra,’ I replied. His eyes glittered with luster of mischief that

compelled me to participate. ‘Gumnam Hai Koi (Someone is anonymous).

Everybody on the floor,’ Saahil sang like a perfect bathroom singer.

‘Bad name is somebody. Com’n, com’n. Yo!’ Preet remixed.

‘Shut up! Let me sleep,’ SB yelled. ‘I just turned up from an exhausting class.’

Saahil loved watching people getting frustrated. ‘Wake up Sattu! A beautiful witch is dancing

on her toes. Your perfect match is out here,’ Preet shouted.

‘Assholes, I’m coming to break your butt,’ SB roared as he woke up.

We all spread randomly like molecules of gases trying to fill the vacuum of my room. Saahil slid below my bed and Preet, behind my wardrobe. The only unhidden folder in the system was me, on my study chair.

K.O.T.A 13

SB entered my room like Gabbar of Sholay (A scene from one of the best Bollywood movies of all times).

‘Kitne Aadmi The? (How many men were involved?)’

‘Two,’ I replied. ‘Where are they?’ ‘I was studying for the past few hours. No

idea.’ ‘Assholes killed my sleep! Anyways, I have to

get ready for the next exhausting class.’ Preet and Saahil were soon out. ‘Well done, actor! You saved our butt,’ they

said, patting my back. They told they were of April session batches,

ranging from D-1 to D-5 and E-1 to E-5. Saahil was in D-4 and Preet in E-4. The threshold of detachment was crossed and we became good friends.

I soon understood the meaning of exhausting classes, the next day.

14 Kshitij Mall

5

VECTORS-1

‘Good morning class. I hope you all are well acquainted with the basic concepts of Units and Dimensions,’ my first Physics teacher at Gurukul- Kishore Gupta (KG), who looked more like a college chap said. His eyes propagated waves of intelligence and sharpness amongst his pupils.

I got myself placed inside classroom no. 9 after standing for half an hour in a long Q. Psychologically its length amounted to a light year.

After a long wait when a Q used to be released, it was as if gates of a dam were let open and the classroom was flooded with students, each struggling to get a seat of his/her choice.

Usually girls sit in the first few rows. Ladies first. Male teachers were its strong proponents.

Their efficiency increased by a factor G (Girls Constant), which made them teach better by gazing at girls.

The region where the girls were seated was termed as G-Spot. A boy found sitting in that region was termed as Bhaiya (elder brother), the brother of all girls. No boy could ever love to get himself defined by that term.

A smart, short statured but extremely hypnotic personality was sitting beside me.

‘Hello!’ I started. ‘Hi! Arpit,’ he introduced. ‘Akash. Nice to meet you.’ ‘What was your score in 10th Grade Exams?’

K.O.T.A 15

‘94%, and yours?’ ‘92%’, he answered. ‘Do you have any idea what’s going on?’ He shrugged. ‘Since there are no concepts in this chapter, so

I think KG has switched onto Vectors,’ he guessed.

KG always believed that class should be delivered in accordance with the level of students. But the level at which he thought us to be was too high. So he accelerated his lecture bus to full speed. His words deflected 90 degrees above my head and so none were penetrating inside.

‘Did you understand…anything…at all?’ Arpit asked. His hypnotic smile became evanescent.

‘Now take a few problems,’ KG said. I hate the word Problems. Teachers have this

bad habit of introducing Problems in the smooth running lives of their students. They make student’s life complex by introducing chapters like Complex Numbers. I was sitting just behind the G-Spot. I saw a girl solving problems at a rapid speed.

A girl can solve these silly problems but I can’t! Girls are supposed to be better in memorizing

things. Many girls are good at problem solving too, like the one in front of me. But boys do have an ego problem that they are better in tackling problems, whether or not they really are.

I was getting frustrated as those problems pummeled my brain like Mike Tyson. I then raised my right hand.

‘Sir, I didn’t understand a bit of this class.’

16 Kshitij Mall

Every eye of G-Spot was then staring at me. KG indirectly glared at me through the G-Spot. Everyone was expecting him to decapitate me. A moment of silence prevailed, like that before a wild tycoon.

‘I was teaching for an hour and now you dare say that you don’t understand a bit,’ he exploded.

‘Sir, your lecture bus ran too fast for me to catch,’ I said.

‘And who else missed this bus?’ Two more hands went up. There were many hands that were still down

because nobody loves to get ridiculed. ‘Everyone has an additional homework now

because of these three guys. Just go through Vectors chapter in HCV. If you still have doubts, do ask in the next class,’ he announced.

I came out of the classroom uttering- ‘Somebody help! Please teach me vectors.’

K.O.T.A 17

6

VECTORS-2

I felt guilt ridden for not concentrating properly in the classroom. I detested being scolded in studies.

I came back to find SB, Preet and Saahil missing from their rooms. All possible doors of help were closed except one that prompted me to knock on it. It was the first room from the entrance, to the left of Saahil’s. It was a joint possession of Prafull Bhaiya (PB) and Lallan Bhaiya (LB). Both were repeaters at Gurukul. Repeaters are ones meant not to repeat the mistakes of their past as they know very well of what’s not to be done.

From the information (info) I gathered from Saahil, LB was a maverick. He had the habit of launching himself into controversies through his statements. One such controversial statement he made by declaring that Michael Jackson was more good looking than Britney Spears. PB was always in the opposition party of LB in those controversies. Still they were united, as if glued by Bondtite. LB was a Manmauji (whimsical), in short. But he was damn intelligent.

PB was a musicaholic. He had a music library with a wide range of music collection. He also relished chatting at internet café and endeavored to increase the number of girlfriends he had. About studies he knew just one thing-

One day is enough to crack exams or to make a girlfriend.

18 Kshitij Mall

A young guy with a hairstyle similar to SRK’s opened the door. He was one of those faces I saw earlier.

‘Prafull Bhaiya?’ I asked. By then another face came to peek outside. It

was of LB. ‘Yes, what can I do for you?’ PB asked. ‘I’m in a big mess. Can you do me a favor? Can

you teach me…Vectors?’ ‘Are you nuts?’ his facial expressions indicated.

‘Talk something related to me… girls, flirting, dating etc.’

He shifted his eyes onto LB who had no idea of what was to happen next. PB raised his hand to point his index finger at LB making him feel guilty of a crime that he did inadvertently.

Crime of being intelligent. ‘LB is the one you are looking for. He’s Dexter

in it,’ he recommended. Unwillingly, LB made a move. He used to walk

like a ballet dancer, using his toes and foot-fingers instead of whole feet.

The battle started with LB backing me up with his forces. I sat on my study chair. LB sat on the bed close to it. The bible of Physics for IIT-JEE aka HCV (a popular book by Dr. H.C. Verma) was opened.

‘Vector is something that has both magnitude and direction. For example Force. Addition of Vectors…,’ LB taught nonstop.

It looked as if he had been teaching it for years. But his speed was even greater than that of KG and that made me feel dizzier. His class was over within a minute. Gone in 60 seconds!

K.O.T.A 19

I kept my eyes closed for a few seconds. I was fighting a lone battle. A moment comes in everyone’s life when she thinks she can do the impossible.

Suddenly faces of those mocking me in the classroom flashed in my mind. And then I opened my eyes. I started studying vigorously and concentrated very hard. I revised the concepts thrice and within 45 minutes, I was able to solve each and every question of HCV. The battle was over. I won against Vectors. I came to know that really, nothing is impossible. At least I must give it a try.

I was elated. I realized that I made my success a Vector quantity. It had some magnitude and I also gave it a direction.

Forward.

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7

SANGAM MESS

‘Akash, it’s time for lunch,’ Saahil announced. A lunch was a nice way to celebrate my victory

over Vectors. I came out. ‘Today…Monday… Rajma (beans) rice. Wow!’

Preet wondered. Saahil’s tongue went round his lips. No doubt,

Sangam was the best in the town. The concept of the mess system was quite

simple. There was a counter at the ground floor where we had to pay our monthly charges, which used be around 1000 Rupees. In lieu of it we got coupons for the whole month with date and time duration printed on them.

We reached the mess on our bicycles and parked them in the Parking Lot. Mess management had appointed a man for the security of bicycles. Preet was aghast at the dreadful sight. Saahil was left with no words in his mouth to spell that gory sight. And then I saw it.

A long Q. People call it a line. It was a curve, as far as Math is concerned. That line emanated from the first floor and through the stairs it stretched down to the road.

‘How long would it take?’ Saahil wondered. Preet shrugged. After nearly twenty minutes, we got seats to

begin the ritual commonly known as Pet Puja (tummy worship).

Sangam means to unite. Analogically, Sangam mess united hungry stomachs craving for tasty

K.O.T.A 21

meals. Ram placed three plates on our table. He was one of the serving staff workers. Four large steel bowls were kept on the table. One had Rajma (beans), second rice, third Raita (Indian Yogurt) and fourth Aloo (potato). Self service was to be followed.

‘Sangam’s Raita is the best in India,’ Saahil declared.

I noticed that every dish was tasty and hygiene was maintained, a must to appease hungry students. Ram turned up with Chapatis (flat-breads). They were a matter of concern as they were consumed at a rapid speed and were not replenished quickly enough, just like conventional resources of energy. Waiting for long periods for them caused wide spread discontent among hungry students.

‘Hey! Our mess has gone International. Even Nepalese and Chinese are in the mess staff, like Ram,’ Preet uttered. Ram truly was a Sangam of Jackie Chan’s looks and Salman Khan’s Tere Naam hairstyle.

‘Will it be this tasty throughout the year?’ I asked.

‘Never question the consistency of three things- Present Australian Cricket team’s performance, Gurukul’s IIT-JEE results and Sangam’s meals.’

After having my hand wash, I saw Meal-Table of Sangam hung on the wall. DAY LUNCH DINNER MONDAY RAJMA (BEANS),

RICE MARATHI SPECIAL

TUESDAY CHHOLA, RICE GUJRATI SPECIAL

22 Kshitij Mall

DAY LUNCH DINNER WEDNESDAY TINDA,

CHAPATI PUNJABI SPECIAL

THURSDAY PALAK PANEER (SPINACH & COTTAGE CHEESE)

RAJASTHANI SPECIAL

FRIDAY BHINDI (LADY FINGER), RICE

CHILLAY, SWEET BREAD

SATURDAY ALOO, PADVAL (SNAKE GOURD)

BENGALI SPECIAL

SUNDAY SOUTH INDIAN SPECIAL

OFF

‘OMG! Is this really a mess?’ I doubted.

‘Splendid!’ ‘The worst part of the menu is Tinda (Indian

Baby Pumpkin). It’s just like feasting upon a grasshopper,’ Saahil said. Preet showed expressions of nausea.

Finally I had a sip of water. Even it had a good taste. It was purified from an R.O. plant installed on the first floor of the mess. Accessories like lemon squeezer and sugar bowl were always present to make lemon water.

Sangam was a delight in our busy lives and I was desperate to come back there soon, to have my dinner.

K.O.T.A 23

8

APQ

After having a sumptuous banquet at Sangam, who would not love to take a nap? But when APQs are in front of you, they can scare the sleep out of you.

‘Akash! I need to discuss something with you, very serious,’ Preet yelled outside my door.

He was in E batch and so was a senior to me. Their course had a good pace. If their pace was to be compared to that of Mcgrath’s (best Australian cricket bowler), ours was of Bret Lee’s (Australian fast cricket bowler).

‘How many APQs did you get till now?’ he asked.

‘Two,’ I replied. ‘Lucky!’ he exclaimed. ‘I got five APQs today.’ In India, people have this habit of boasting

about the work load that rests upon them. In student community, the more the quantity of home work handed over to, the more you boast of it.

Preet was then lying on my bed and I was on my chair.

‘Do you know the concept behind APQs?’ ‘Is there a concept behind this too?’ I asked. Once you start living in Kota, you start

googling for concept behind each and everything. ‘Gurukul was founded in 1980s with the aim to

restore the teacher–student relationship and intimacy that existed in the past in form of Gurukuls,’ Preet told.

24 Kshitij Mall

I kept my homework in abeyance. Preet was narrating like a new concept for Ekta Kapoor’s daily soap. I wonder why serials are called daily soaps. They don’t clean anything save our sensibilities.

‘Gurukul had only one student in the beginning. But by Dr.Tayal’s indefatigable efforts and that student’s dedication, he cleared IIT–JEE in his very first attempt and since then Gurukul never looked back,’ he continued.

‘A new concept of Additional Practice Questions (APQs) and Beat The Heat (BTH) originated. APQ contains problems supplementary to the class problems and BTH includes IIT-JEE oriented questions in the form of exercises, its exercise II meant for those preparing for Olympiads.’

Saahil was overhearing us from outside my door. He stepped inside; his entry akin to a guest appearance in a Bollywood film.

‘The level of APQs has been raised by filling it with the toughest questions. It takes an average student around five hours to solve one such APQ,’ he said. He dramatized the situation the way Tony Grieg hypes about Sachin Tendulkar’s (best cricket batsman in the world) defensive shots. If you have a common cold, Saahil can make you feel like an HIV+.

‘So if we get five APQs a day, it means…,’ I gulped.

‘25 hours for an average student,’ Saahil calculated.

‘Beware Akash! This is just the beginning. Start counting your days. Within a week the amount of your APQs would increase and so…’ Preet warned.

K.O.T.A 25

‘Tension, frustration’ Saahil said. ‘So what should we do to free ourselves from

its shackles?’I asked in an attempt to change the topic.

‘Cricket, the best option!’ Saahil replied instantly.

‘That’s a great idea. But I’m not a good player,’ Preet said.

‘I’ll train you. What about you Akash?’ ‘I’m an all-rounder; a very active fielder

indeed.’ ‘Ready for a match?’ Saahil asked. ‘Yeah!’ Preet and I yelled. My APQs were left pending as a result and

started turning into- Always Pending Questions.

26 Kshitij Mall

9

WHOSE PITCH IS THIS? - Part 1

‘Did you keep the ball with you?’ Saahil shouted from the balcony.

We were outside the gate, waiting for Saahil. Our landlord came out for a light chat.

‘Taking rest from studies? It’s nice for a change. By the way there are many parks in Kota to play. Just don’t get hurt,’ he said.

‘Don’t worry, Uncle. We will play slowly, with caution,’ I assured.

‘But I’m a fast bowler. How can we play slowly?’ Saahil interrupted.

‘Uncle, in which company do you work?’ I asked to change the topic.

‘I work at MTNL. I’m at managerial position and …,’ landlord was not yet over when another voice overpowered his’.

‘Prafull, let’s go!’ LB shouted. PB usually took an hour to get ready as if he

was out for a date. We always informed him of our plans at least an hour prior to the actual departure time. A mirror and a comb always accompanied him.

A park in the neighborhood welcomed us with its cover of green grass. It was basically meant for old people to stroll in the evening and for small children to play, not at all for cricket maniacs like us. LB was jogging unsteadily, warming up, as if an international match was to be played.

The pre-requisite for any cricket match is a pitch. It should be suitable for both batsman and

K.O.T.A 27

bowler. So the search for the most suitable spot on the park as a pitch started.

The hunt was over and we found two spots. The choice was then made on the basis of chances of ball going outside and the stumps were fixed on the pitch that had lesser chances of the ball going out. Since the park was very small, a short run-up was the only option for fast bowlers. No Shoaib Akhtar (fastest cricket bowler in the world) could be ever born out of such a park. He never compromises with his run up, but we had to. The boundaries to decide 4s and 6s were very close to the pitch.

The most exciting thing was the ambience. For Saahil, there was one more thing to cheer about.

Girls. Parks attracted girls to take a stroll. A girls

hostel flanked the ground. They were strong proponents of these cricket matches and acted as cheerleaders like the ones in IPL (Indian Premier League). Another interesting fact about the park was its name- Major Chauhan Ground (MCG).

A tiring yet inevitable task was to form two teams. Saahil and LB volunteered to be captains. The teams were decided.

LALLAN BOYS – LB (CAPTAIN), JOHNY, PB, PREET.

SAAHIL GANG – SAAHIL (CAPTAIN), AKASH, NILESH, PLUMBUM.

Nilesh, Johny and Plumbum were fast friends of Preet and Saahil and so were invited for that match. Plumbum was six feet four inches tall and so was nicknamed initially Lumbum (a nick name for tall guys in India) and then Plumbum by

28 Kshitij Mall

Saahil. Nilesh was a foodie but his physical appearance never suggested his likes.

When I met Johny for the first time, I got an impression that he was a nerd.

‘Hey guys! I’m late because of that boring Physics Olympiad. Anyways, what’s the program?’ he said on his arrival to the park.

All of a sudden some local chaps arrived with their kits.

A young boy with a moustache came forward and said, ‘It’s our pitch.’

‘WTF! We came here first,’ Saahil rebelled. ‘I’m Shontu. We play here daily. Let’s have a

match to decide whose pitch is this. We win you leave and vice versa.’

‘Okay, done!’ we all shouted in unison.

K.O.T.A 29

10

WHOSE PITCH IS THIS? - Part 2

SB joined the party. His entry was equivalent to a 12th man of a

cricket team. We all wished to have him as a cheerleader instead of a player during the course of the match.

‘I would also play,’ SB demanded. We were left with no other choice.

Match began. We lost the toss. Shontu’s team elected to bat first.

‘I’ll bowl first,’ Saahil declared. LB protested but was abetted by PB.

Some very anxious moments appeared in the match like one when the ball hit a girl sun basking on her terrace.

‘You bastards, look! You fractured my daughter’s skull,’ victim’s mother yelled.

I cleared my spectacles (specs) in disbelief. Unbelievable! The ball hit her arm and that too with the slightest of touches. I saw her holding her head instead of her hands and improvising a nice drama of agony.

India’s Got Talent! A player from the batting side lofted the ball

and Oops! He did it again. Ball bounced onto Chawla Uncle’s terrace.

He came out cursing all the players and headed toward Johny with the ball in one of his hands.

‘Did your parents send you here to play and loiter?’ he asked angrily.

‘Yes, any problem?’ Johny replied.

30 Kshitij Mall

‘Don’t you have any manners?’ ‘Sorry Uncle, we don’t!’ ‘Then fuck off,’ he cursed. He hit the ball on the ground in desperation.

We grasped the ball, out of his reach. A surprising moment arrived when girls came

out on the girls hostel balcony. It was a big question whether they came to watch the match or lads.

I found our team players making spectacular efforts to catch the attention of the girls. After all they were boys. Even PB dived to take Monsieur Shontu’s catch to dismiss him in Jonty Rhodes (the best cricket fielder in the world) style. A fat girl from the girls hostel crowd jumped in joy, so much that a seismic center was created at the spot of jump. We could also feebly feel the earthquake waves. I asked the boys to cool down so as to avoid such disasters.

My advice had its greatest impact on SB who left the world’s easiest catch. The ball went straight up in the air above SB and landed on his palms. But then, he did the unforgivable. He split open his palms and the ball fell down. Second innings started. Saahil and I opened for our side. Slowly, we were marching toward victory.

Finally we were left with one ball, one wicket and one more run to win. Preet was the last batsman. Anyone batting at such a stage of the game would have loved to take a single and finish it all. But Preet hit it high over the girls hostel, and the ball halted nearby Saha mansion.

SB and I ran upstairs and met a girl on the second floor, slightly elder to us.

K.O.T.A 31

‘Auntie, our ball came in by mistake. Could we go in and collect it?’ SB requested.

‘First of all you hit a ball on our terrace and then you dare to call me Auntie. Do I look one?’ she barked.

My smile multiplied her anger many folds. ‘Sorry Didi (elder sister). It won’t be repeated.

Allow us to take the ball and go,’ I appeased her. After gathering the ball we ran downstairs

shouting, ‘Bye Auntie.’ We reached the ground gasping for breath.

‘Match was a draw. What’s next?’ Preet inquired.

‘Run, Auntie is coming!’ SB warned. ‘And Uncle too!’ I said. ‘Moutherfuckers. I would ring to the police.

They will teach you a lesson,’ Saha Uncle shouted from outside the park boundary.

Everybody had a sprint for life. Gone in 60 seconds!

But the question was still very much alive – Whose pirch is this?

32 Kshitij Mall

11

YES SIR

A long Q before APQ distribution desk maintained by Bapan made me wonder why the students were so desperate to collect the APQs.

I dashed toward classroom no. 9 after collecting the APQs.

Physics class. I got seated beside Arpit. ‘Done with your homework?’ he asked. ‘Yes, but I do have a few doubts.’ ‘Me too. How many doubts do you have?’ he

inquired. In Kota, there’s competition in everything. ‘Five doubts. What about you?’ ‘Three doubts. Anyways, how do you feel

about Kota? It has been a month now.’ ‘I like the crowd here, everyone busy yet so

helping,’ I replied. ‘Initially I was hit by a feeling of home sickness but the daily dose of APQs scared it off.’

‘But I’m pretty upset because someone stole my bicycle. I had to buy a new one.’

Class began. ‘These are the answers for APQ no. 6. You

may now clarify your doubts. Let’s go one by one. Question no.1? Any doubts? Let’s move ahead.’

‘Yes Sir,’ a voice amidst G-spot catalyzed KG’s reaction.

‘Question no. 2? Done?’ ‘Yes Sir,’ that same voice yelled again. During the whole discussion many hands got

raised, many doubts were cleared, but a peculiar

K.O.T.A 33

feminine voice ended each question with Yes Sir. Arpit got frustrated simply because that girl had no doubts what so ever and he had three.

The class got over and we had a fifteen minutes recess. We then shifted to classroom no.7. Unfortunately, it was again a doubt session of Protov’s Logarithm (Log) Exercises by SP (Shailesh Pratham).

Initially we considered logs to be the toughest. Then we got an FYKI from D-E batch students that Exercise -II of Trigonometry’s BTH was the toughest nut to crack. Exaggeration was always associated with it.

‘Topper of Gurukul solved it in five hours, cracking 28 out of 30 nuts,’ a lower batch student gossiped.

‘A chap from the last batch completed whole of Exercise -II,’ an upper batch student claimed.

‘Look at her! No doubts at all! I think she referred to the answers from D-E batch students. Let’s see if she has got a doubt in this session,’ Arpit commented.

‘Questions 1 to 30?’ SP shouted. Since around 200 questions were to be

discussed, so the probability of having doubts increased. For four questions we heard no Yes Sir.

To err is human and human she was. Arpit was making fun of her. We felt so irritated that we nicknamed her Yes Sir.

We came out of the classroom after the grueling doubt session.

‘What say? Another doubt session?’ Arpit asked.

‘No Sir,’ I said for a change.

34 Kshitij Mall

12

MI-1

‘Akash, did you see the notice board today?’ Arpit asked.

‘Not yet. Anything special?’ We were sitting in classroom no.9 to attend

our Physics class. I used to see the notice board only after the classes got over.

‘Our first test is on July 31, just 20 more days,’ Ankit declared. It was equivalent to –

‘You are found guilty of your crimes and thereby you are sentenced to be hanged till death on July 31, just 20 more days. The court is adjourned.’

Beads of perspiration formed below my hairline in anxiety.

‘How about your preparations?’ he asked. Another missile launched by him. ‘Pre….preparations? Cool! 20 days are too

many. We would get bored,’ I replied. Who was I kidding with? I had not finished

even 1% of the course and was boasting of a revision.

‘Great! Planning for a flight to the first batch, aren’t you? I haven’t even started. I’m somewhat tensed,’ he said.

‘And Yes Sir?’ I asked, arching my brows. ‘In 20 days she would complete at least 20

times revision, I bet,’ he claimed. But why did I mention her? To save my ass

was more important at that moment. I had no idea

K.O.T.A 35

how to propel my preparations in the right direction. Two things were going on in my mind- 1. I already have much homework in store, in

the form of APQs and BTH. 2. I have to prepare for the exams, not just for

one but three subjects. ‘Stop thinking! It’s time to act,’ my inner

conscience told me. After the class I came back to my room and

started studying non-stop as if there was no dawn. Finally the day of exam came.

My preparations were OK types. I was happy that at least I solved the problems on Vectors and Logs. The zenith of my success was cracking the first problem of Irodov (one of the toughest problem books on Physics) and solving 10 problems out of 30 in Exercise II of Trigonometry BTH. Arpit and I hurried to the exam centre which was again at IP School, the one with the largest mosquito population in the academic world.

Each exam was of subjective type with time duration of two hours. The first was Math. It took me by surprise as some of the questions were typically hard. But I kept my cool as I knew the fact that I was already in a lower batch and a bad performance won’t push me down any further. I went on cracking one nut after the other.

Second came Chemistry and last was Physics. I didn’t have enough time to recheck my

solutions and so I wasn’t that confident about my performance as I used to be in school exams. I just kept my cool till the exams got over.

36 Kshitij Mall

The moment I was out of the exam hall I felt a great relief, same as one feels while peeing. Many students kept discussing and debating about the questions and their answers. I detested discussions as they were not going to alter my answer sheet. But I admit that at times they can lead to a better and shorter method for solving a problem.

I was wondering when I would be again in the exam hall on my mission impossible, MI – 2. I was soon going to have added missions to those exams.

K.O.T.A 37

13

OM CINEPLEX

A knock at my door. I knew it was Preet. After a period of time you

can recognize a person even from his knocking style. I opened the door to face a fusillade of questions. 1. How was your exam? 2. Can you show me your question paper? 3. How many marks do you expect? 4. Do you know about the biggest multiplex

here? The last question interested me. For two

months I didn’t watch a movie. ‘Om Cineplex is the ideal destination for all

movie freaks of Kota,’ Saahil declared. He was one such freak and boasted that he can watch three DVDs back to back in one sitting.

‘I think Chalte Chalte got released recently. Let’s watch it. I love SRK,’ I suggested.

‘Just the movie should be worth each penny,’ Saahil said.

Preet ran to his room and came back with the Sunday Times Of India to read the Movie Review Section. Jury reviews and assigns stars to the film, rating it from 1 to 5. Chalte Chalte fetched 3 stars and was watchable.

‘We have to walk till IP Chowk to catch an auto. So be fast,’ Preet cautioned.

We were soon clad in attire that made us feel like we were out for a date with some pretty girls.

38 Kshitij Mall

PB, SB and LB didn’t join us as they had exams. While walking downstairs we saw landlord peeking out.

‘Where are you boys going?’ he asked. He had a peculiar Rajasthani accent that was easy to mimic.

‘Uncle, we are going to watch a movie at Om Cineplex,’ Preet replied.

‘Let’s move on! We are getting late,’ I reminded. ‘Don’t worry Uncle! We will be back soon.’

Within 25 minutes we were at Om Cineplex. It comprised of three screens-SATYAM, SHIVAM, SUNDARAM.

Outside, there was one counter for each screen, and a digital display board hanging above them displayed the seat availability status for the films being run. Tickets were available with current booking and advance booking options. Unfortunately, Chalte Chalte was running in SUNDARAM, the smallest screen. So we were going to miss the real taste of Om Cineplex i.e. SATYAM, the biggest one.

Movie began. Preet and Saahil whistled even on Vicco Vajradanti advertisements. The sound system was Dolby Digital. Film was quite entertaining but missed logic at times.

INTERVAL At refreshment corner we discovered the price

of Samosa to be five times that of Brijwasi’s (popular milk product and snack center at Kota). We decided to compromise with an Ice-cream, which was a fixed price item.

K.O.T.A 39

After a few twists and turns the movie had a happy ending, as expected.

We hired an auto rickshaw (auto) till IP Chowk and then came to our rooms Chalte Chalte. Discussions were imperative in Kota, after exams and movies.

‘The marriage scene between SRK and Rani took place at an unrealistic quick pace,’ Saahil said.

‘Anyways, we enjoyed the trip. That’s more important,’ Preet said.

I was again reading the movie review section of Times Of India.

‘Charlie’s Angels, releasing next week,’ I informed.

‘Advance booking?’ Saahil proposed.

40 Kshitij Mall

14

SHUFFLED

Exams are essentially followed by impending results and student community is more nervous for the latter as they strongly believe in Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle.

Physics Class ‘What are your aggregate marks till now?’Arpit

asked. ‘Chemistry 38, Math 25, a net disappointing

total of 63 out of 150.’ ‘My total– 36+38= 74,’ he told. I congratulated

him. ‘Physics abhi baaki hai mere dost (Physics results

are still not out),’ he pointed. KG entered with a bundle of answer sheet.

The most awaited result was to be disclosed. Arpit went to the last row to be alone, far from all eyes glancing over his answer sheet.

Roll no. 2453 was called and the answer sheet was passed on from the first row till the last row like a relay race of the answer sheet.

‘Yes!’ a voice exclaimed from the last row. It was Arpit, jumping in elation. That was the

real flavor of achievement. I felt very happy for him. ‘How much?’ I asked. ‘64’, he replied. Roll no. 2421 was then called. It was mine. Result was on its way, from the first row to the

second and so on. Lakshya saw it and gave a blank expression. Then he passed it back. If everyone

K.O.T.A 41

was going to see my result and then pass it on, I was surely going to change the name of AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS to AROUND THE BATCH WITH 80 HANDS.

My batch had strength of 80 and everyone was utilizing one hand for passing, the last hand being mine for accepting the result. I came out of my imagination to realize that the answer sheet was still orbiting the classroom.

Result was then in my hands. My heart was ready to jump out of my rib-cage. It was a nail biting moment.

Marks were not etched on the front sheet. I scanned the answer sheet to discover a two digit number printed as a secret code at the top of the last page.

64. ‘Hurrah!’ I exclaimed. More than the aggregate of the rest two subjects! Tick marks decorated the pages as I re-scanned

the answer sheet. After the class got over, students crowded at

the notice board. New batches were allotted to all as per their scores in the test. The list was displayed on the notice board.

Arpit elevated to the first batch while I was a new member of the second. Lakshya also shared the same batch with me. We were among the top 100 brains. I met Navin. His results were outstanding in all the three subjects. His rank was 11.

To congratulate him I put my right hand forward. But he looked at me as if we never met. He skipped from the site. Even a beggar gets a

42 Kshitij Mall

better treatment than what I met. He was different from the Navin I met on the day of introductory meet. I ignored that incident and I ignored Navin. I erased him from my documents of life with a simple step- Shift + Delete. I came home with the news of batch shuffling and received a warm treatment from one and all.

‘Well done Akash!’ Saahil congratulated. ‘But where’s our treat?’

A treat is imperative after every good result. So I had to sponsor a light treat for all housemates. But I never knew my happiness was going to be ephemeral.

K.O.T.A 43

15

SPLITSVILLA

Mimicking someone is fun for many. There is a thin line of distinction between mimicry and mockery and for the one being imitated; it’s no fun when his/her ego is at stake.

That was the bone of contention between me and Saahil. Preet and I used to mimic our landlord and Saahil, the most. Even LB was not spared. To mimic SB was not a great deal. The toughest part was to imitate PB.

Mimicking is the process of filtering out some peculiar attributes of a person being mimicked. In a way it’s not bad to mimic, as it compliments uniqueness of a person. But not everyone takes it sportingly enough, as they mistake it to be mockery. Saahil was one such. He used to make fun of others by generating funny nicknames for them. When it was his turn to be on the receiving end, he protested. He gave enough reason to retaliate.

On one sunny day, after our class got over, we were having some light moments in LB cum PB’s room. They were out for a movie. Saahil was standing near the balcony. SB was more interested in studies and so he kept himself locked inside his room, swimming in the ocean of books lying therein.

As we were getting bored we started mimicking and discussing funny traits of our landlord. Saahil was overhearing us and when his chapter in our book of mimicry was opened, he

44 Kshitij Mall

came closer to our door. It was foolishly open to carry the sound waves from our vocal cords, which were going to hurt his eardrums.

‘Saahil has a peculiar laughing style and he uses the word log baag frequently in his speech,’ Preet commented.

‘Yeah! Log Baag – the garden of people,’ I shouted.

A moment of silence prevailed and then… The door was kicked open by a hit from the

boots of Saahil. As the last sentence was uttered from my mouth, he came hastily toward me.

‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ ‘I’m Akash.’ Preet smirked, infuriating him even more and

he was red with rage. ‘I’ll break your limbs if you repeat any of my

words again. And don’t ever talk to me,’ he shouted.

‘Why are you cursing me alone? Others too make fun of you. If you want to beat me, you are welcome. I too am not dying to talk to you.’

‘Shut up!’ he exclaimed. ‘When you call others by names that offend

them, they take it sportingly. Then why don’t you?’ I asked.

He glared at me and went back to his room. I was very upset. He has problems just with me. Why didn’t he say anything to Preet?

LB and PB arrived after an hour of the incident. Preet reported the matter to them. They tried to make a patch up between us. But we both had ego problems that kept the differences alive and our house got a new nickname…Splitsvilla.

K.O.T.A 45

16

PHODU

Phodu. An integral term of the academic life at Kota. It’s often misunderstood as someone who

breaks or damages things. I was one such ignorant person. For me Saahil was a Phodu ready to break my limbs after that Splitsvilla episode.

I kept questioning others about its real definition for long, till one day I got rewarded by that term, on solving a tough Irodov problem. LB told me about its real definition that day.

A Phodu has an ability to do anything above average, anything which only a few could do. I met many Phodus in my journey at Kota by then. Some of them inspired me while many others surprised me.

1. Sudhanshu Asrani He was fortunate to be born in Kota and it had

certainly affected his genes. He was the most popular student of Gurukul. He was invited to compete with repeaters and he was always ready for any challenge. Once he scored 248/252 in an objective test that was a record of Gurukul. We invited him for a cricket match. But his gave an unexpected reply.

‘I didn’t score full and so won’t join. Ye Dil Maange More! (This heart craves for more!)’ 2. Nibha Gupta

She won accolades for her consistently extraordinary performance in Math. In other

46 Kshitij Mall

subjects too, she scored well but her Math got her a position in top ten in Gurukul.

An incident connected both of us. I was accelerating my bicycle to reach classroom as soon as possible. I parked it beside hundreds other.

Unfortunately the gravitational force played with it in a way that its stand was not able to withstand its weight. It slipped onto the neighboring bicycle, asking a favor to support its weight. But it too refused and then-

Husha, Busha! They all fall down. That day I understood the concept of Heat

Conduction and Waves practically. I skipped without anyone’s notice. And then what I saw was even worse.

A boy was sprinting and behind him, bicycles were falling down in the same fashion. Two waves were then travelling, one started from his bicycle and one from mine.

Waves here, Waves there. One thing common, Bicycles falling everywhere. I entered classroom no.7 to find that answer

sheets of recently conducted test were distributed. ‘Nibha Gupta. 44. Congratulations! You

topped again,’ SP declared. I got 26/60, which was a Phodu result

considering level of the paper. I was again near my bicycle, surprised to find all the bicycles standing upright with pride.

‘How many marks did you get?’ Nibha asked as she came close to me.

K.O.T.A 47

Her question made me rotate my head in all directions to search for a deserving candidate for that question.

‘Kyun Namak Pe Jala Chidak Rahi Ho (Why putting salt on my wounds)?’ I responded.

She smiled at my response. She thought me to be some Phodu topper.

‘Congratulations! All the best for future,’ I ended up. 3. Anchit

He was a batchmate of mine in F-2 and cousin of Nibha. He always advocated that it’s not necessary to attempt every question but to maximize number of correct solutions within the stipulated time.

‘If I solve four questions in an hour and you solve five in four hours, I am more efficient as I still have three more hours.’ 4. Arpit

‘There’s no shortcut to success. You have to work hard,’ he said.

I met many more Phodus, many whom I knew only by face. I came to meet the most beautiful Phodu soon.

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17

NAYI PADOSAN

09:00 A.M. I was standing near the balcony when a horn

grabbed my attention. It was from a Scooty, the worst of the two wheelers as far as boys are concerned but the best companion of girls on roads. These petty things separate boys from girls- Sporty Vs Delicate.

The owner of the Scooty was a pretty young girl. I had not seen a beautiful girl like her before in Kota. While Saahil and Preet declared Kajal to be the Aishwarya Rai of Kota, I felt that Scooty girl was a more deserving candidate for that title. At first I thought her to be some relative of our neighbor. LB came out of his room. Since I was staring at her, his eyes indirectly moved toward her. He smiled.

‘Follow me, quick!’ he commanded. We were then inside his room. ‘Do you know who she is?’ he asked. ‘Some relative of our neighbors?’ ‘You are absolutely wrong. Don’t you find her

genes strikingly different from them? She is a complete mutation as far as they are concerned. Guess what?’

I arched my brows. ‘She’s Bhawna, 21st ranker of our batch, R-1.’ Bhawna Didi (BD). She was amongst the most

beautiful cum intelligent girls of Kota. She was two years senior to me and was a Phodu in a real sense.

K.O.T.A 49

According to Saahil’s principle – Five years elder or five years younger, both Chalegi (would do). But I looked at BD as my sister. While LB turned into BD’s biography, I made up my mind to do something stupid and equally daring.

What if I include her in my friend circle of infinite radius?

After all, she was my neighbor. I was getting crazy at that moment.

What good would she do to me? Perhaps, I was trying to get out of the daily

mundane routine. She knew LB and so I stood a chance. In the evening, her mom was strolling near our neighbor’s balcony. LB and I were hanging out on our balcony, close to it.

‘Hello Kids!’ she greeted. I was not expecting it. ‘Hello Auntie!’ we replied. ‘Where do you hail from?’ she asked. ‘Faizabad,’ LB answered. Her eyes were then gazing at me. ‘And you?’ ‘Nagpur.’ She was surprised a bit to discover the fact that

Gurukul comprised of students from all over India. She was still unaware of my friends from Assam. That was an epitome of Gurukul’s popularity and the extent of my friend circle.

After a few more light questions, we cleared the viva round. I thought we impressed her mom and it was the right time to add BD in my friend circle. Even the tight schedule of Gurukul couldn’t stop me from doing so.

Nayi Padosan (new neighbor), my new friend!

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18

MATRIX

‘9:30 P.M.,’ LB reminded. ‘So what?’ PB asked. I was in their room, so immersed in my Math’s

APQ that I was momentarily deaf to everything except that APQ.

‘Slice time,’ LB announced. Those words brought me back to the real

world. I felt elated. ‘Let’s go!’ I exclaimed. As usual, PB took half an hour make up

session, as if we were out for a cat walk than a night walk. Soon we were at the shop which remained open till late night where we sipped Slice. When no bottle of Slice or Mazaa was left for us to sip, we compromised with an ice cream cone.

It became a routine for us to stroll late night and have soft drinks to take a break from studies. We preferred Slice and Mazaa as soda was absent in their chemical composition making them less harmful on a daily consumption basis. We were on our way back when we met a female pig heading toward us with its progeny.

‘What are you two waiting for?’ LB said as he took a stone in his hand.

PB followed the same step. And then, it was my turn. Three stones were successively fired.

But the pig managed to save itself in a way that reminded me of the popular scene from Matrix in which Neo saves himself from three bullets fired successively on him by an agent.

K.O.T.A 51

A common exclamation- ‘Shit!’ The pigs sprinted away out of sight within

seconds. We were then on the ground floor of our PG. All of a sudden, a splash of water fell upon us. It would have been rains if we were hallucinating. PB utilized the splash for hair styling. But LB and I were in no mood to do that. Instead, we thought to retaliate by waging a water war.

We found the rooms of Preet and SB locked. Saahil was at his friend’s room for the night. So we knew the culprits.

PB preferred listening to music. LB felt pressure and so he dashed to the bathroom to empty his bowels. After all, it was nature’s call.

I was the lone soldier. I took one mug of water and went upstairs to find the door of the terrace slightly open. I kicked it open and took my position. That door was the LOC. I took a step forward to march ahead but another splash of water fell on my leg, pushing back my one man army.

A few minutes of silence prevailed and then ceasefire was called. I found SB and Preet standing on the roof above that door, near the water tank with two buckets. I was fighting a highly advanced battle with outdated weapons. My mug was just a pistol in front of their AK-47.

‘How did you determine my position?’ I asked. ‘Your shadow helped us in determining your

exact coordinates. It was fun hunting you,’ SB clarified.

LB joined us after the ceasefire. I narrated the pig incident. Everyone had a laugh. Because of

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those two incidents, I was unable to study that night and my APQ was again left pending.

Pigs were coming to retaliate soon, in an indirect way.

K.O.T.A 53

19

SORRY BHAI!

There’s a famous technical adage- If you close your eyes and walk on the roads in Kota,

the thing you would most likely hit would be a pig. The pig had the highest density of population

considering whole Kota and not just IP School, where mosquitoes took the honors. The fat heads that are nomenclatured as donkeys should be renamed as pigs. Pigs have the habit of analyzing anything and everything with their nose, which makes them look funny. Their eyes are vestigial for them.

A pig was once crossing road using its nose and four legs. A cow was relaxing nearby, in the shade of a tree. The pig went on and on till its nose met with that of cow. And then both kissed, inter animal.

Pigs think humans to be their best foes. Every time we lift our leg (even for walking) they think that it would land upon their delicate bodies.

Once, while I was returning from Sangam, I found over 40 pigs loitering and goggling for litter near Sangam. I lifted my right leg and pounded it at its initial position.

One pig ran for its life and apprehensions triggered in the minds of the remaining pigs, creating a stampede. Soon black dots covered the busy road. Two unfortunate girls riding a Scooty were hemmed in. Their scream matched that of Sharapova’s.

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If Neil Armstrong had been there to see that gory sight he would have modulated his famous lines to-

A small step by a man (Akash), a giant leap for pigkind.

Preet and I had mouser guns with plastic bullets. One night we were playing mouser archery with them.

We used to call pigs near our residence and made a fool of them by throwing newspapers down. They came running, keeping rest of their activities like sleeping, dawdling and fighting with other pigs in abeyance, in a hope to get something edible wrapped in those papers. They wondered why wicked humans suddenly turned philanthropic.

‘Let’s hunt pigs,’ Preet proposed. ‘No, let’s not hurt them,’ I advised. ‘Then fire a bullet on BD’s cooler, 100 points

for direct hit,’ he challenged. ‘Are you out of your mind? No, you are not

going to do it. Wait!’ I shouted. But it was too late. Preet was aiming at the

bull’s eye- BD’s cooler. I thought he was just kidding. But the trigger

got pressed. I knew just one more word with Bull apt for the event- Bullshit.

We ran to take refuge under PB’s haven. I narrated the cooler incident to them. All cursed Preet. I thought of opening the door to inspect the situation at our neighbors. I found a well built, wheatish man staring at our door.

‘Hey telescope! Wait!’ he shouted on seeing me.

K.O.T.A 55

My specs earned me that title. I hid behind the door as he kept yelling.

‘Let me handle this situation,’ Preet said. He went out and soon I too came out.

‘Sister Fucker. Asshole.’ Never before had I been abused by those

words. I held the railings of the balcony and pressed them hard to control my anger. That son of a bitch kept yelling.

‘Acting smart, teasing girls. I know boys like you. Caution all other sister fuckers of your floor to stay away from her. Else I’ll send you all back from where you came. Understood asshole?’

It was too much for me to bear. I didn’t deserve it.

‘Akash! Say sorry,’ Preet whispered. ‘For what?’ my eyes questioned his. ‘Sorry!’ I muttered. I never wished to say that but I uttered it on

behalf of Preet. I could have stopped him.

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20

FIGHT CLUB

‘Sister Fucker? And you said sorry?’ LB was very angry.

‘You know he’s an asshole. I’m upset because he warned us all. What does he think us to be?’ I said.

‘We need to teach him a lesson,’ PB said. ‘Saahil was very upset on hearing this mishap,’

Preet said. More so because he was also abused. He was no

more amiable to me after that spat. ‘Because...you were innocent,’ Preet said. I couldn’t believe it. Saahil supported me. SB then turned up with his peculiar attire- a

towel hung around his neck and shorts. ‘Don’t worry man! We are always with you,’ he

said, patting my back. ‘I have classes till evening. If you need any sort of help, do ask.’ We bid bye to him.

Retaliation was then planned at PB’s room. ‘We all should talk to him. United we stand,’

PB suggested. ‘First Akash should go and then we should

back him,’ Preet insisted. ‘What’s the use? He would return with another

sorry,’ LB commented. ‘Bhaiya, don’t ever question my guts. I can

scare the hell out of that son of a bitch,’ I warned. ‘He would send us back from where we came.

Who the hell is he to decide all this stuff?’ Preet said.

K.O.T.A 57

‘He thinks himself to be a stud, especially in front of that girl,’ PB said.

‘Get ready boys! It’s going to be 8:00 P.M.,’ LB announced.

‘I would inform you guys when that son of a bitch comes out’, Preet said.

Saahil and Nilesh soon entered our clan and we told them about our plan. They patted my back to fight against the evil. SB was expected to be at Sangam for the dinner. Preet alarmed us of the arrival of son of a bitch in his balcony.

I came out in Angry Young Man style. ‘Sorry Uncle! But tell me what wrong have I

done?’ I yelled. ‘Teasing girls and then asking me about your

fault…all sister fuckers.’ ‘Shut up! Let me call those, whom you are

abusing,’ I shouted. And then came out five great people. PB,

Preet, Saahil, Nilesh and LB. LB pushed everyone back to take the front guard.

‘Why are you abusing him?’ LB asked. ‘I’ll slap you so hard that you will remember it

for your life time.’ The tallest and eldest of us all was the new

target of that son of a bitch. We all stood silent. LB was about to speak mother fucker when our landlord arrived. He instead ended with–Shit!

About 15 relatives of that son of a bitch were waiting for him, near the gate. They were going somewhere and he was supposed to see them off. But we gave them a nice farewell. A big fight ignited.

58 Kshitij Mall

‘Rakesh, you are mature enough. Why are you fighting with these studious guys?’ Landlord asked.

Saahil came to the front then. ‘We tease girls? What proof do you have?’ he

roared. ‘I would break your bones,’ son of a bitch said. ‘First bother about yours,’ Saahil commented ‘We have to leave as soon as possible. Come

down Ravi,’ his relatives demanded. ‘I would see you all later,’ he said. ‘Fuck you,’ Preet whispered. SB arrived just when the battle was over. He

was happy for we won. I hugged Saahil and LB. ‘I heard all this for you. Never mind,’ LB said. Who says woman is the cause of every Great

War? That war started because of pigs, though a cause of woman got attached to it later.

K.O.T.A 59

21

YE KATTA

14th January, Mahasankranti ‘How much does this kite cost? And that blue

one?’ Preet fired his fusillade on to a kite seller. Preet, LB and I were out to buy kites. What

better way to celebrate Mahasankranti than to fly colorful kites, high up in the sky?

PB and Saahil were eagerly waiting for the kites. LB was a professional (pro) in kite flying. He had a peculiar style with which he never compromised. He used to put on his goggles and control the Manja (kite flying string) with his legs. He was self sufficient for flying a kite which usually was a twosome sport. We were then on our terrace with a kite in each hand.

‘I saw Bhawna today. She was looking beautiful,’ LB said. Ever since I came to know that BD was the one behind that big fight as she complained against us, I hated her. But LB didn’t stop teasing me.

It used to be one of those days when our landlord’s family came on the terrace to celebrate with us. Mirth and jubilation filled the air. The kite flying began, that saw LB again as a one man army. Rests of us were amateurs, learning tricks and tactics of kite flying.

Edison would have advised to fly the kite 1000 times but we gave up in just 100 attempts. After all we were not inventing bulb.

That day saw an active participation in kite flying from all the neighboring houses including

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the one with whom we had a fight. A burning desire to defeat them came into our mind. What if we snap other kites by another device?

We told LB about our plan to assist him. He gave thumbs up. He started luring other kites, generating chances for us to trap them in our bait. We tied Manja to a worn out slipper instead of a kite. We threw the slipper to entangle those kites. Eventually they got snapped. But someone snapped our concentration.

A beautiful girl on the terrace of 1-PA-91, trying to match up with the flying skills of pros like LB, was then the cynosure. She too, was wearing goggles like him.

Her delicate hands were trying to fly the kite high but every time it landed on our terrace. A civil war sparked amongst us to courier the kite back. But LB’s extraordinary performance in the sky amazed us all, bringing us back to track.

We started snapping other kites cunningly. We didn’t spare the kite of son of a bitch. Gradually we headed toward finals.

A 12 year old boy who was more pro in kite flying than LB, on account of snapping more kites directly, challenged him in the finals. He had the habit of yelling Ye Katta (this got snapped!), which pestered us a lot. LB’s prestige was at stake. The boy was clever enough not to bring his kite close to us. Finally, he trapped LB’s kite and both kites were struggling to get free of each other. There was a moment of anxiety.

And Lo! LB’s kite was falling down. It was all over. ‘Ye Katta.’

K.O.T.A 61

It was LB who yelled. It took a few seconds for us to realize that LB was deliberately bringing his kite down and the other kite was snapped. The boy held his head with his palms, in despair.

We yelled in unison-‘Ye Katta.’

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22

CHULHA PATAK DIYA

Winter Alarm rang, forcing me to come out of the

heavenly coziness of my warm blanket. A tough task.

Fog filled the atmosphere outside to give a perfect trailer of WINTER-Season Oh 4. LB was still in underwear. He loved to express himself freely. He could have easily been the brand ambassador of Airtel with the motto – EXPRESS YOURSELF. Even a frosty winter like that couldn’t chill the fire inside him.

He was very sincere toward three things- SLEEP, STUDIES, BREAKFAST. PB was his breakfast partner. Every day at 6:30

A.M. sharp, he woke up PB. He usually took a bath after that.

I came out of my room to find tube lights of Preet’s room still on as if from days. Sunlight seldom entered his room but tube light was always there as a consolation prize. I was done with all my routine activities when I saw LB placing an immersion rod in a bucket full of water meant for the bath.

Soon a wild knock at my door propelled me to open it as soon as possible.

‘Akash, kisi ne Chulha Patak Diya (Ovens crushed)!’ Preet exclaimed.

It was a direct indication that a big mischief had been played.

‘Who?’ I asked

K.O.T.A 63

‘LB…,’ Preet whispered. He offered me a tour to the site where the act

of Chulha Patak Diya was committed. To my horror I saw a mind blowing scene. One of the immersion rods was glowing red hot. We were then analyzing the site as if we were from some forensic department.

Soon Saahil was there, standing and gaping. It was his immersion rod. I hugged him at that time of grief to console him. He rebelled just like a widow does, at the news of her husband’s demise. Everything was so stupid and so dramatic.

Crowd gathered. PB, Saahil, Preet, Plumbum, SB were the spectators. And at last the culprit arrived, LB. The hero of the kite flying competition was then a villain for Saahil. He acted as if he knew nothing about the incident. All eyes were transfixed on him. He shrugged to indicate that someone else had been behind that stuff. Still none of the eyes moved. All wanted an explanation and so he revealed the uncensored story behind it.

‘In the morning I found two immersion rods lying here. I thought it would be a nice idea to have a bath early in the morning with warm water instead of a regular, cold one,’ he explained.

‘But how did this immersion rod burn?’ Preet interrupted.

LB stepped forward and pointed at the wires of both the immersion rods. One rod was in the bucket and the second one kept on the ground. He held the wire of the rod kept in the bucket and disentangled it from the other wire. And what we saw that day through our naked eyes was history.

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The rod kept in the bucket, had its plug lying on the floor whereas the other rod, which was lying on the floor, was plugged into the socket. The rod on the floor, which was burning red hot, melted the wire of other rod, as it was touching it. So both the rods were of no use.

More misery. EK TEER SE DO NISHANE (Kill two birds

with one stone). In this context it can be modified to- EK SOCKET SE DO ROD BIGADE (Two

immersion rods killed with one socket). The second rod was of Preet. He

commiserated with Saahil. Two widows! That day marked a special importance in our

lives as we came to know the exact definition of Chulha Patak Diya and also the practical analogy of Ek Teer Se Do Nishane.

K.O.T.A 65

23

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Arpit. One of the best friends I ever had in Kota. We used to attend classes together in Gurukul

and Vital. He was a little coy in nature. Once he was to change his dress for our classes.

‘Akash, please go out of my room. I want to change,’ he requested.

But misunderstandings creep up even between best friends. And so they did, between me and Arpit. Physical Chemistry class at Vital Classes

We had the habit of making high quality notes of our classes to recall important facts, tricks and tactics at the time of revision. We all had different limits to the quantity of facts grasped and penned down.

Ashish Kumar used to make the best notes, as if the whole audio file of a class had been converted into text format. Arpit had better notes than mine. They earlier used to exchange notes, but soon started hiding their stuffs.

I missed some of my classes owing to illness and so had a chat with Ashish at the bicycle stand regarding notes.

‘Can you lend me your notes? It’s a matter of day or two? Please!’ I requested.

‘I need them today. Better ask it from someone else,’ he refused.

He knew that if they got misplaced anyhow, all his hard work would go in vain. He didn’t trust

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me as much as he did Arpit, probably because I was in a lower batch.

Arpit joined us. Ashish asked him for his notes.

‘Hey! I need to study today. I won’t give them,’ Arpit said, keeping his notes in his bag.

I was angry. I required help but couldn’t ask for it from Arpit from what I saw. No notes in the world can be precious than friendship. But because of notes, I decided to end up my conversations and friendship with them.

I would show them how it feels when you need help and get betrayed.

Next day at Vital Classes I was sitting in the second row. Arpit got

seated by my side. We had to revise nomenclatures of organic compounds. Fortunately, I brought the study material for it. Arpit forgot to bring it. I was not in a mood to share.

‘Akash, let’s study together!’ Arpit proposed. ‘I have to study and I can’t share it. Sorry!’ I

refused. ‘What happened to you? Why talking like this?’ He asked like an innocent kid that melted my

heart. I was very upset of what I was doing, but I continued my Non Co-operation Movement. He looked at my face, trying to figure out whether I was Akash or not.

The days that followed saw a remarkable change. Earlier we used to reserve seats for each other by keeping our bags or registers on them. Then I sat alone, away from them. I grew softer toward them as time passed by.

K.O.T.A 67

Finally I resumed my conversations with Ashish. He asked for a company till Arpit’s room. I entered like nothing ever happened. But he remembered everything.

‘What for you came in here? Get Lost!’ he roared, pointing his index finger toward the door. I was totally aghast.

‘I thought you would help me when I was in need of notes of the classes I missed. But you were hiding them from all, even from me,’ I blurted out.

‘You should have asked,’ he said softly. Tears fell from the eyes of both and I hugged

him. ‘I’m always your friend. Never feel shy to ask

for any help I’m worthy of,’ he said. Trust strengthened between me and Arpit. But

LB’s trust and bank balance were to be hit soon.

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24

F.I.R

LB was sitting on the floor, looking depressed as I entered his room.

‘Why so serious?’ I asked. ‘A swindler stole away my money. I can’t

believe it. He was such a foxy thief. Never knew his intentions,’ he said

‘Whom are you talking about?’ I asked. PB was lying on his bed with a solemn face. ‘I met a man today. He said he was a native of

my village. I didn’t trust him initially…,’ he paused. ‘But then he started giving details about my family and told that he was my far-off relative.’

Saahil and Preet too joined us in the room at that point.

‘That bloody son of a bitch called me Laloo. Only five persons on earth used to call me by that name. I was then driven into his trust,’ LB said.

‘Whom are you talking about?’ Saahil asked. ‘Some swindler,’ PB revealed. ‘He narrated a sad story that he was to join a

coaching centre as a student. But due to economic problems he was unable to. So his future was bleak. He wished…’

‘That…,’ Preet ventured. ‘…if I could possibly lend him 10,000 Rupees

for his fees. He also gave me his contact number,’ LB said.

‘And you gave it?’ I asked. He was silent. PB nodded. ‘So what happened then?’ Saahil probed.

K.O.T.A 69

‘He never came back. I tried his number but that asshole gave me a wrong number. Now I’m afraid. How would I face my parents? I never thought I would be a victim of such unscrupulous thief. I’m pretty upset,’ he said. He hid his face with his arms in despair over the fact that he helped someone who never really was his relative, who never intended to do any coaching.

‘Did you file an F.I.R?’ Preet asked. ‘Prafull and I went to the Vigyan Nagar Thana

to file an F.I.R. But what’s the use? I don’t think a thief takes money with a money back offer,’ he replied.

‘Never trust strangers so easily. You should have confirmed his authenticity from your parents before lending him any money,’ I said. ‘Be positive. You will get him and your money.’

‘I pray, that son of a bitch gets caught soon,’ he said.

* A few days later A SWINDLER STEALING MONEY FROM COACHING STUDENTS IN NAME OF FEES CAUGHT RED HANDED AT KOTA.

Those headlines in the leading newspapers were a consolation prize for LB.

‘Don’t spare him. Slap him so hard that he would think twice before stealing,’ Saahil said.

‘Hope so I get my money back. I will crush his butt,’ LB said.

Supplemented by our best wishes, LB and PB headed towards Vigyan Nagar Thana.

They returned after two hours.

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‘What happened?’ Preet asked ‘He’s bankrupt. How could he ever repay? We

could just slap him and kick his butt. Police assisted us in doing so,’ LB said.

‘Although you didn’t get back money but you gained experience,’ I said.

‘Yeah! I learnt a lesson after all. The file is now closed.’

And so was closed that F.I.R chapter from our mind by the impending final exams.

K.O.T.A 71

25

VALEDICTION

Final exams Exams of both School and Gurukul. School exams were full of fun as we filled our

answer sheets with blunders. Still many scored well. Thanks to the average marking scheme.

An examinee wrote the story of Devdas upon being asked to write an essay on -The Side effects of Alcohol. He ended with the motto-

‘Na Chandramukhi, Na Paro. Sabse Badhiya, Apni Desi daru.’ (Not Chandramukhi, Not Paroo, The best in the town is our alcohol) I always empathized with the examiner who

took the pain of reading such revolutionary answers. But the examiners there were made of different stuff. They never felt any pain.

Because they never read those blunders. All they did was a quick scan of the sheet determining the length of the answers. Then their eyes went through the first few lines and the marks were allotted.

The following adage was strictly followed- The first impression is the last impression! Many students left most of the space in the

answer sheet blank to save their ink. Solving numerical problems of Physics, Chemistry and Math was no big deal as we have got used to that. Practical exams were horror shows. I saw the apparatus of experiments for the first time on the day of exam itself.

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Physics Practical exam I learnt by rote the whole practical record. I

remembered even the punctuations. As soon as I got the answer sheet, I vomited all information, including the observation tables and results. Without any observation I had the observation tables.

I looked at my watch while submitting the answer sheet. 15 minutes. The exam was of two hours duration. Many answer sheets were still blank, with just the name of their owners written on them.

‘You serious? Your experiment over?’ Lab Assistant inquired. ‘How did you perform it?’

I shrugged. He took me for a viva tour. I gave such

horrible answers for their Out of Course questions that they had no other option except to release me.

Gurukul exams on the other hand, were no fun. We had our exams on three successive days. Each exam had a maximum of 250 marks and three hours duration.

There was a particular system at Gurukul that I detested. Two types of rank existed- 1) Test rank of individual tests. 2) Cumulative rank of all the tests.

The latter sucked. If you under-perform even in a single test, your cumulative rank is more affected. You then need to perform consistently well to regain your chair in an upper batch.

But my performance was consistently getting bad, day by day. I slipped one batch down in the

K.O.T.A 73

recent shuffling. In the final exams when it was most needed, I didn’t perform well.

The problem was mammoth course and lack of practice. My APQs really turned into Always Pending Questions. I felt the heat but was unable to beat it while solving BTH. I was attending extra coaching at Vital Classes, which meant extra homework and extra pressure. There was never a need to join any extra coaching but it had become a fashion in Kota. Social life, too was not working well. I already had three spats in a year.

After the final exams got over, I got reservations done till Nagpur. I packed my bags and set on for my journey back home. SB too left Kota forever to give his board exams and IIT-JEE at Bhubaneshwar. We all felt sad to bid him bye but life goes on. I shifted into his room.

I was looking for positive results and was praying for a better life in 12th class than the one I had experienced in 11th, at Kota.

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12th Class Series 26

GIRL IN GREEN

Back to work. I rushed to the reception center with Preet and

Saahil to inquire about the batch allotted to us for the session. Saahil always loved to watch girls, especially receptionists.

‘Guys, I have great news. A new receptionist has been appointed. And she’s just 20. Chalegi (will do),’ he announced.

‘From five years younger to five years elder, Sab Chalegi (all will do),’ Preet winked.

I was not interested because I knew I was going to be burdened with five girlfriends in 12th - Physics, Math, Physical Chemistry, Inorganic Chemistry and Organic Chemistry.

We parked our bicycles in the parking lot of Gurukul, nodding to the security guys. They recognized us and smiled.

We found a very fair and gorgeous young girl seated on the receptionist’s seat. Saahil’s news had a supersonic speed, crushing Aaj Tak’s (an Indian news channel) claim of Sabse Tez (flash news). His tongue was out of his mouth. Preet and I were then to business while Saahil was lost in his own world of girls.

‘Ma’am, can you please forward us our allotment letter?’ Preet requested.

Preet was allotted N-2, Saahil bagged L-2 and I managed a place in M-4.

K.O.T.A 75

M-4! Eighth batch in ascending order with 600 students above my caliber. I was about to say the F word when Preet’s words caught my attention.

‘Let’s go! It’s time for lunch.’ That day Sangam’s meal didn’t taste good.

Possibly the flavor of my mood adulterated it. I congratulated Saahil at the washing basin for making it into the second best batch.

‘Saahil, I have to leave for my Physics extra-class. See you in the evening,’ I said. He bid bye to me.

My bicycle hit the lazy roads in the scorching heat of April. I took a left turn from Jain stationers and drove right into the Gurukul lane. There I saw a girl strolling on the lonely road.

Doppler Effect. The closer she came, the more I focused on her. She was clad in a green Salwar suit that gave her a serene look. She wore specs with half frame. She was a Preity Zinta’s (a popular Indian Actress) look-alike.

Mission Physics. I pulled back from her magnetizing grip. For the first time in my life I was gazing at a girl. I guessed her to be a Gurukulite. My bicycle was traversing a straight line path while my head was performing a rotational motion. I was awestruck by her beauty.

Is she new to Gurukul or had her beauty been latent for a yearlong?

35 seconds. Time for which that gaze lasted. ‘This should not be news for the spy reporter

Saahil,’ I prayed to the almighty. I smiled. I could still remember how she took

strides of her hair on her cheeks and put them back behind her ears. I kept smiling till the

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exhausting class got over and I came back to my room. Saahil’s expressions depicted that some telepathy message had been forwarded to him. But it didn’t alter my expressions. I was still smiling.

‘What happened? Still thinking about that girl?’ Saahil asked.

My smile converted into anxiety. How did he come to know of that girl?

Preet joined us at the balcony. He too, was smiling.

‘What happened to you guys? Something’s surely amiss,’ I said.

‘Yes, I know that you love her. But there’s some problem,’ Saahil said.

‘Saahil loves her too,’ Preet said. ‘Unbelievable! How did you come to know? I

don’t know anything about her,’ I defended myself.

‘By the way Preet too is in love with her,’ Saahil said.

‘I’m ready to sacrifice my feelings for you guys,’ Preet said.

‘I have no idea as to whom you are talking about,’ I said.

‘Hey! Didn’t you like that receptionist? She’s so hot. Now don’t deny this,’ Saahil said.

I gave a great sigh of relief. Our sexy receptionist was a new member in the crush list of Saahil. Only God knows who would be the last one in his list. I guess it would be his wife, our Bhabhi (sister in law).

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27

MISSION NASA, LANDING KOTA ‘Finally and fortunately, you are now in 12th.

It’s going to get more challenging and interesting.’ Those words of SP commenced our first Math

class of the session. Some students yawned while many others including girls, were busy gossiping.

Teachers have one common complaint that if students are allowed a relaxation time of mere 30 seconds, they want to gossip about everything- past, present and future.

‘Party, Party,’ some students shouted. Not a single reason to celebrate, still the students never lost hopes of getting one.

‘First get a seat in IITs and then I would surely take a party from you guys,’ SP replied.

Party, Party became evanescent. ‘Recent news claims that IIT-JEE will be

incorporating CBSE questions into it so as to crush coaching institutes. Is it true?’ a student inquired.

‘IITs select only those who are deemed fit to get a place into it. Suppose they select students who are not fit for it. Then one of them goes to NASA, another blunder.’

All sat awestruck at his imagination. ‘And NASA launches a satellite to orbit moon.

But because of that student, the satellite reaches Kota and not moon. I guess I have conveyed the right message to you. IITs don’t admit fools, whether they are here in Gurukul or in some other school. They set standard questions.’

SP switched on to a new unit- CALCULUS.

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Gurukul was known as the abode of Calculus. ‘It consists of more units like integration,

differentiation,’ he started. After half an hour, the class got over and I was

back to my room. By the time I reached 1-PA-90, it was empty.

Saahil had gone for an eye tonic. For him greenery was the synonym of beautiful girls. But I always praised him for his professionalism in studies. First work, then play.

Preet was in Heart to Heart cyber café. He loved Raju Bhaiya (RB), the owner of Heart to Heart. Preet was a born gamer.

PB and LB landed after my arrival. They were like my parents and so their room was my home.

I told them about SP’s joke of the day. ‘SP cracks seriously intelligent jokes,’ PB said. ‘Mission NASA, landing Kota!’ LB exclaimed. Mission IIT-JEE was my only concern though

something more was going to be added to it, soon.

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28

SHE BE THE ONE

‘Wake up Akash! It’s getting late for your class.’

It was Preet who knocked at my door. After all he agreed to be my wake up alarm for that day.

7:40 A.M. The time my watch showed. 7:45 A.M. Just five minutes for the Physics

show to begin. My new Physics teacher AG cursed late

comers and I never wished to be in his list of donkeys popularly known as AG’s list. I dashed to the bathroom with no time left to think about the chronological order of my activities. I thought to brush and bath at the same time. What about emptying my bowels?

Fortunately we had two bathrooms, of which one was already occupied. For the first time in my life I forgot to apply soap while taking the bath. I didn’t comb my hair either.

‘Wait! I’m also coming,’ Saahil said. ‘So you were in the other bathroom? Hey! You

too forgot to comb.’ He replied with a grin. Our bicycles hit the

busy roads. I bid bye to Saahil at Gurukul’s entrance and entered classroom no. 9. AG put a stop on my run.

‘Five minutes late! Get out,’ he yelled. I glanced at my watch. 7:45.

‘Sir, I still believe it’s 7:45…as far as my watch is concerned,’ I said confidently.

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The whole class was taken by surprise. My eyes met with one of the surprised girls. She was the famous Yes Sir and that Girl In Green. I could then recognize her. Unbelievable! I showed him my watch. 7:45:49. Then he showed his watch, 7:51:01.

‘Sir, I matched the time with Aaj Tak. It’s truly Sabse Tez (Fastest).’ He looked at me, his eyes wide open. ‘You may get in.’ I smiled. A news channel saved my ass within seconds, Sabse tez.

It was a real set back to sit back. Unlike Om Cineplex, the surround sound of AG was feeble there. It was a combined class of M-3 and M-4 on Ray Optics. The word Optics made me gaze at Yes Sir who was wearing specs. I soon crushed my feelings for my crush to brush away my misconceptions about Optics. After three hours, the interesting yet exhausting class got over. I was to note the new time-table from the notice board when somebody else took my notice. Yes Sir’s cheeks.

She looked so delicate and lovely that I couldn’t take my eyes off her. But I was reminded of my aim. An hour later, I met her again, inadvertently. God doesn’t play dices. She plays strange games with us and She decides its rules. Right, Mr. Einstein?

But I skid from there to Gurukul’s parking lot. I saw her again, coming with a bunch of girls.

‘Not again!’ I muttered. I flew from my bicycle and landed directly on the bicycle pad of 1-PA-90. I skid to my room. I was scared of that entity chasing me. But an even scarier fear factor was to come then.

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29

SQUINT FACTOR-THE FEAR FACTOR

‘She’s squint. Don’t you know that?’ Saahil smirked.

Preet was all smiles. ‘It can’t be. I have seen her several times,’ I

rebelled. At times, you land into ocean of troubles by

blurting out some secrets. ‘Several times! Hmm... Intentionally or…’

Saahil raised his brows. ‘Unintentionally, I swear! By the way she has

combined classes with me.’ ‘You better check it for yourself. I bet she’s

squint,’ Saahil said. The discourse got over as we had to rush for

our exhausting classes. I accelerated my bicycle on the dusty roads and reached the parking lot within two minutes. And then, I fortunately saw her.

In pink, she looked gorgeous. I followed her for a while to look into her eyes. But her supersonic velocity faltered my plans. She was always in a hurry and some worry. I was praying to God for another combined class. Fortunately it was scheduled that day.

Organic Chemistry class I knew she was an expert in Chemistry, more

so in Organic Chemistry. That day Pulkit Chauhan Sir took a surprise quiz. Those surprises were nightmares for student community. Each one of us was asked to check his/her own answer sheet.

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The easiest task on earth is self assessment. Most lenient marking scheme was adopted by one and all.

‘Who secured the highest marks?’ Sir asked. All hands got raised up. ‘How would I know that?’ He smiled.

‘Anybody with a score between 9 and 10?’ No hand got raised. ‘8 to 9?’ A fair hand with four bangles and a Titan

watch got raised. ‘What’s your name?’ I was still guessing it when a voice echoed in

the classroom. ‘Smita.’ I finally came to know her real name. She won

my heart again with that brilliant performance. Class got over in an hour. I followed her. Her train finally halted at the tap water terminal.

I looked into her eyes to check the Squint factor. Her face looked damn beautiful, without any deformities. Same was the case with her eyes- beautiful, undeformed and lovely. I was falling into the black hole of her black eyes. My senses were unable to escape from its gravitational pull. I wore specs (artificial eyes) and so did she. Aankhen Char Hona (confrontation of four eyes to fall in love) was then converted mathematically into Aankhen Aath Hona (eyes turned into eight).

She transformed me into a lunatic, romantic guy already burdened with five girl friends. I really didn’t wish to have a sixth. I was desperate to get Kiss of that Angel. For the whole day, I was dreaming about her. APQs were no more

K.O.T.A 83

interesting. Love really makes one crazy. My smiles iterated like sinusoidal waves. I came back to my room.

‘She’s so cute and she’s not at all squint, understood!’ I told Saahil.

I hit axe on my own leg by uttering those lines. I came to know of it the next day.

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30

JAB WE MET

‘Do you like halua (Indian sweet dish)?’ Saahil asked.

Preet and I were sitting on his bed. Preet’s tongue was out of his mouth on hearing the word halua. We requested Saahil to make it for us.

He pushed his chair back and stood up to browse all the ingredients required. It started raining outside. Cool breeze made the weather appropriate for relishing hot halua. Saahil got it ready within minutes.

‘There’s lot of halua for us,’ he claimed. Music accompanied us in our feast. ‘So do you really love Smita?’ he started. ‘What? Love?’ I tried to be ignorant. ‘Something’s going on between Smita and you,’

Preet said. I ignored them by taking a bite of halua. ‘There’s nothing between us,’ I said. ‘You said she’s cute,’ Saahil pointed. ‘But I never said I love her,’ I said in self

defense. ‘You also said she’s not squint,’ Saahil

continued. ‘So what?’ ‘Why are you so bothered about her?’ Preet

asked. I was asking the same question to myself. ‘I respect her.’ ‘And this respect is a part of your love for her,’

Saahil commented.

K.O.T.A 85

‘Let’s change the topic,’ I proposed. ‘Hey! Be a man. Go and propose her. At least

talk to her. Pat jaayegi (she will consent),’ Saahil suggested.

I always feared that it would distract me from my aim. For me studies were always of prime importance.

After having my halua I bid bye to both and locked my door from inside. Then I started building plans to meet Smita. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw her face. But something blurred it. I think they were APQs. The virus of love made its way into my heart. It’s like an HIV whose cure is still unknown.

I took out my time-table and started googling for the timings when Smita and I would be having combined classes.

Eureka! It was on the very next day, in the afternoon.

Next day, 2:30 P.M. I made my way into the classroom after facing

the scorching summer heat. Then I saw something that quenched all my thirst and eventually cooled me off. That icy looks of hers. I suddenly felt an urge to talk to her and express all that was in my heart, but alone, away from the crafty world.

After the class got over, I went to the bicycle stand. I winked to the security guard. He smiled.

Lo! There she came walking alone. I calculated the approx time she would take to reach me and accordingly adjusted all my moves. In a slow motion, I pulled off the stand of my bicycle. She then took notice of me and my moves. That day I wore a very funky dress to impress her. Her

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tongue explored her lips and a smile was engraved on her countenance. She came closer and closer...

My heart beats started rising at an exponential rate by her Doppler effect. I kept my hands over my chest to stop the heart from hopping out.

Speak to her. Say something. Come on! ‘Smita? Is that your name?’ I broke the silence

with a real stupid question. She nodded. ‘You were in F-2, right?’ I ventured. She nodded as she wasYes Sir. ‘So how was the class today?’ I asked. ‘In which batch?’ her question was a counter

missile to mine. ‘M-4. Well, I was wondering if you could

possibly lend me your notes of the extra-class we had on Sunday.’

‘Why me?’ she asked. She was worried. ‘My friends too missed that class as they were

playing cricket. I wasn’t well.’ Once you start making excuses there’s no end

to it. One excuse and then another to save your ass.

‘Okay! I would give it to you by tomorrow,’ she acquiesced.

During the whole discourse I was walking by her side, with my bicycle.

I was about to enter her girls hostel when her eyes indicated me to leave her off.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘For what?’ her eyes asked. I jumped on my bicycle. ‘Smita, tomorrow for sure,’ I shouted. She was expressionless. But I was so elated

that I put my hands up in the air while riding the

K.O.T.A 87

bicycle. I missed three accidents. Love makes you feel at the top of the world. It’s a very dangerous disease and I got it Jab (When) We Met.

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31

WHAT IS LOVE?

Am I really in love with Smita or is it just infatuation? I approached PB to find the solution. He had already declared that he can flirt with any female homo-sapien of the universe. So he was a love guru with great experience in love technology.

‘Do you know the 10 Commandments Of Love (COL)?’

‘No. Sounds quite interesting,’ I said. ‘Here it goes.

1) Day and night dreaming about your crush. 2) You become possessive about her and you feel jealous of

all those guys who wander around her. 3) It starts with physical attraction. 4) You detest those who pass vulgar comments about your

crush like- “What an ass!”, “Nice boobs!” 5) It’s spiritual and much more than lust. 6) You find excuses to meet her. 7) You spy the smallest details about your crush like

birth date etc. 8) You try to figure out her characteristics in someone

else. 9) You try to impress her but end up doing things that

make people call you crazy. You smile at times for no good reason.

10) The most important of all- you will never divert yourself to a wrong turn while in true love. You would always get better and better when in love,’ he ended.

‘I think my case covers most of these points. So now I can confidently say that I’m in love,’ I said.

K.O.T.A 89

‘Congratulations!’ he said. We had a hand shake.

‘Where’s LB?’ I asked. ‘On terrace.’ I met LB there and told him about my

discourse with PB. He was smiling. ‘Are you serious?’ he asked. ‘Yes, I’m in love.’ ‘There’s no such thing called love. It’s just a

physical attraction that you think is love.’ ‘Love is not just physical. It’s much more

spiritual,’ I replied. ‘All rubbish. It’s a concept of Bollywood,

restricted to films. It doesn’t exist in the real world,’ he commented.

‘Was Taj Mahal built because of physical attraction? You must be kidding.’

‘I’m focusing on today’s world. Love is materialistic nowadays. Girls want boys to be their credit cards and bodyguards. Boys need girls for sex.’

‘Not all. I can’t be pessimist like you,’ I said. ‘Don’t be too optimistic either. Girls can cheat

and the day they ditch you, you will find my words right.’

‘I’m more interested in studies. I never knew I was going to fall in the abyss of love.’

‘As a friend and a repeater, I’m cautioning you. Concentrate on your studies instead of Smita.’

‘I’m concentrating on my studies, more so because of Smita.’

‘Learn from Saahil. He’s so professional in studies.’

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‘I daily learn from his aggressive nature to achieve the impossible.’

LB had no more words to say. He patted my back and went downstairs. I was hanging out on the terrace, still questioning myself-

When would LB fall in love?

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32

BLACK BIRTHDAY

11:55 P.M. May 28, 2004 ‘Get ready for birthday bumps,’ Saahil said. He

had a cake in his hands. PB, LB and Preet joined the party. 12:00 A.M. A change from P.M. to A.M. and suddenly I

was lifted up. For the first time in my life, I experienced a zero gravity state and then a bunch of legs from all possible angles came and hit my butt so hard that I had no other choice than to shout.

Earlier, people used to be ebullient on their birthdays. But since the inception of the concept of birthday bumps, everyone started concealing their birthdates from others.

I cut the cake and everyone sang- Baar baar din ye aaye… (a popular Bollywood

song that means this day should come frequently) That line lost its importance as nobody wishes

to have two or three birthdays annually, especially after knowing the consequences.

Preet and Saahil were more interested in eating the chocolate cake than to spread it over my face.

‘Let’s have some music!’ Preet demanded. We all started dancing on some desi (Indian)

music. It was the worst synchronized group dance but far better than a baraati dance. Saahil was the best dancer of the group. The party got over by 2 A.M. All went back to their respective rooms to

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prepare themselves for the exhausting classes that were to follow.

It then came to my mind- If Smita wishes me a happy birthday, it would be a

great present. 6th COL-You find excuses to meet her. I wondered how I could ever make her wish me a Happy Birthday.

Morning After having my breakfast at a renowned

Pohawala, I met my batchmate Ravi at his room. ‘Hey Akash! Happy birthday,’ Ravi greeted. I explained to him all the matter. ‘Don’t worry. I have a brilliant idea,’ he said. ‘Tell me.’ I was dying to hear it. ‘First check out the notice board and find out

her class timings,’ he told. ‘I have already memorized all her batch

timings,’ I said. 7th COL- You spy the smallest details about your crush.

‘Great! Then I have a fantastic plan. I will come to wish you a Happy Birthday when you are about to talk to her. Ask her for the notes. By that time I’ll attack,’ he blurted out.

My class got over by 5:15 P.M. I knew that she would be returning back by 5:30 P.M. I was standing at Kota Dairy and having butter milk to pass time. Suddenly Smita along with her army of two other girls marched past me. I threw the butter milk and started running behind her. Meanwhile Ravi, the warrior of my army, was strolling in the garden. He saw the situation and started running behind me.

‘Happy birthday Akash!’ he yelled.

K.O.T.A 93

Smita never heard it. She hurled away from me when she saw me approaching her.

‘Smita, wait!’ I requested. She acted deaf to hear that request. My heart

beats again increased. ‘Smita!’ The request was transformed into a

command. She turned her face so that I could see only her side face.

‘What?’ her eyes asked. ‘Notes?’ I asked. ‘Tomorrow for sure,’ she promised. ‘It’s okay. It’s upon your will.’ I smiled to hide

my tension. I was expecting Ravi to attack. But it was all

over. We lost and I missed the greatest gift I could have fetched that day.

‘Sorry! I couldn’t make it.’ Ravi said. I passed a smile to him. ‘Come. Have your treat.’

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33

HUM TUM

‘Akash, you should give us treat some other day,’ Saahil advised.

‘After the exam,’ Preet suggested. I nodded. Treat in the form of a movie was

decided by them. ‘Done! But I’ll take only a few people to make

it an economical affair,’ I said. ‘Hey! We do understand that you are not

earning,’ Preet said. ‘Just LB, PB, Plumbum and Johny will join us.’

‘Okay, done!’ I exclaimed. ‘Done!’ they yelled. 6th June, 2004 We had an objective test that day. ‘I usually attempt a lot of questions but many

of them get incorrect, leading to negative marking. What’s the use?’ I said after the test.

‘Negative marking sucks man! It spoils our good work,’ Preet said.

‘Exam’s over guys! Stop these trivial discussions.’ Johny loathed those discussions. Plumbum didn’t like them either.

‘One hour left for the movie to begin. We must make it fast. I don’t want to miss the trailers of other movies,’ Saahil said.

‘Don’t worry. Advertisements of Vicco Vajradanti mark the beginning of the show. We can skip them as we have by-hearted them,’ I said.

K.O.T.A 95

We hired an auto till Om Cineplex. It was a crowded place that day because most of the students were out there to burst their stress.

The show began. Saahil fortunately didn’t miss new trailers.

Hum Tum (You and Me) started running. The first few lines of the movie were quite captive.

‘First God created this world and then She thought of creating a boy. She was proud of Her creation and then She relaxed for a few days. She then thought of creating a girl and since then neither God could live in peace nor could the boys. The world got divided into two parts- Hum (boys) and Tum (girls).’

The movie revolved around Saif Ali Khan in the role of Karan, for whom girls were analogical to buses. A new one was always available after every half an hour. But then he met Rhea (Rani Mukherjee) who changed his views.

We were excited to find Abhishek Bacchan in a guest appearance not only in the movie but also in the life of Rhea. His accidental demise shook the world around Rhea leaving her as a widow.

Interval As expected, Rhea and Karan came closer after

that accident. Rishi Kapoor made a spectacular entry as Karan’s daddy.

‘Go son. Go, before it’s too late. 10 years ago I lost your mom because I kept my feelings buried deep inside my heart that led to a communication gap. Do you wish the same consequences?’

Those words of Rishi Kapoor stirred Karan and finally he got Rhea. The movie ended as expected, in a bliss.

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We came out of the hall. When we reached our rooms, a usual discussion followed. I was wondering when Hum (I) would get Tum (Smita) in my case.

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34

CRUSHED

‘Go son. Go, before it’s too late. Do you wish the same consequences?’

That dialogue from Hum Tum kept echoing in my ears, prompting me to blurt out all my feelings to Smita.

According to the girl’s equation- BEAUTY*AVAILABILITY*BRAIN=CONSTANT, Smita was an endangered species. In India, since males are more than females, so the probability of females getting committed is very high. And girls like Smita are more vulnerable to proposals, their frequency and number increasing with time. So my chances would be lowered if I kept idle. I thought the recently concluded test was the best event that could be included in my topic of discussion with her. 6th COL-You find excuses to meet her.

‘Rani looked hot in this movie,’ Preet said. ‘And Saif, Mr. Cool,’ Saahil said. I still wonder what temperature has got to do

with normal human beings. Thermodynamics suggested to me that temperature would have flowed from Rani to Saif if they hugged, till both attained a thermal equilibrium.

‘I love the chemistry between them,’ Preet said. From Physics to Chemistry, a great red shift of

thoughts. The discussion went on for an hour and then, everyone was back to pending APQs and BTH.

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NEXT DAY Another combined class in the evening. The

batches were then going to be shuffled on the basis of the results of the concluded test.

I loathed shuffling system. If you fumble in a single test, you can hope to be in a good batch in your dreams. Shuffling was done twice or thrice annually and was a matter of concern for me as I was consistently falling down to lower batches. I shuffled my thoughts from shuffling system to my mission.

I was near my bicycle at the parking lot with Lakshya when I saw Smita. She was accompanied by another girl. She was inching closer to me and my heart beats increased. My heart was then a frog ready to jump out. Why am I so scared of her? It was a conundrum I could never solve.

Speak to her. What are you waiting for? One part of my conscience was pushing me

toward her while the other was pulling me back with an equal force, keeping my body in a static equilibrium. She was about to cross me when I broke that equilibrium.

‘Hi Smita! How was your exam?’ She didn’t fare well and so she was a bit

irritated beforehand. And my stupid question acted as a detonator for the explosive kept inside the nuclear chamber of her heart. And then, she exploded.

‘What’s your problem? I’m not at all interested in you and your silly question?’

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No boy ever wishes his Crush to crush and dump him in front of his friends. It was all over. I was very angry with her. But a part of my heart still advocated her stand. It was my fault to ask such a question and that too in front of my friends.

That day I came to know the real definition of crush and my love for Smita got crushed.

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35

MEMENTO

A month later Results of Subjective test declared. The answer sheets were checked and

distributed. Those sheets that were not claimed by their owners due to absenteeism were packed in a bundle and thrown near the notice board corner. I was one such owner.

My performance degraded so much that I earned single digit numbers, like an out of form batsman’s score. I was desperate to see my score cross the single digit mark. There I saw a huge pile of sheets, dejected and orphaned, pleading someone to take care of them. Some of them were crippled as they got torn.

‘Hi! I forgot your name. We were in the same batch in 11th, right?’ Arjun said.

Arjun- a guy full of doubts, who never feared of asking stupid questions.

‘Hi! I guess you are Arjun?’ ‘Yes! And you?’ he asked. ‘Akash,’ I replied with a smile. ‘So what are you

doing here?’ ‘I have to search my answer sheet. Can you

help me out?’ he requested. ‘Why not?’ I welcomed. While we were scanning the bundle I came

across Smita’s answer sheet. I grew notorious. She was my foe and I wanted to retaliate. I kept it inside my bag. We found Arjun’s copy in a few minutes. He thanked me and departed.

K.O.T.A 101

I rushed to my room and took out her answer sheet. All kinds of mischievous thoughts were running through my mind. I had a look at the front page.

Name- Smita Madaan Father’s Name- Ramesh Madaan Batch- M-2 The handwriting was turbid though it had the

feminine grace in it. It suggested that she was in a hurry and some worry. But any day, it was better than mine.

The answer sheet had the format of a printed question and then some space free for the answer. One had to answer in that very limited space. It was then followed by the next question and so on. The students using large font size in their natural word software i.e. handwriting, were the worst affected.

The level of most of the questions used to be higher than their IIT-JEE counterparts. Logically, if one can crack a tougher nut it’s much easier to crack a simpler one. I saw some empty space in her answer sheet as she left some questions unsolved.

If she’s not able to answer these questions let her solve a few others.

I wrote a few puzzles in the empty space and challenged her to solve those, the toughest puzzle being-

There are three guys-a Blind, a Deaf and a Dumb. Deaf eloped with Blind’s wife and Dumb saw this. Dumb is Blind’s best friend. How would he tell Blind about it? Solve this, you dumbass.

I told Saahil about it.

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‘How would she come to know that someone has played mischief? Tear the front page,’ Saahil advised.

‘You are right. She must know whom she has messed with’ I nodded.

I tore the front page and kept it in my bag. I dumped the answer sheet back to that litter of orphaned sheets near notice board. But I never knew that it was going to be a memento of my love.

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36

LB BYE! SMITA HI! IIT-JEE 2004 LB and PB had performed at their level best to

make their way into prestigious IITs. But people see results. They never care for your efforts.

MAINS result was out. After conquering SCREENINGS they were very much looking forward to it.

Heart 2 Heart and Bits N Bytes went houseful that day. We were concerned for the results that sealed the fate of their lives. LB came upstairs running while PB followed with heavy steps. Their motion depicted their results.

‘AIR 1400! I did it Akash! Finally I cleared JEE in three attempts. I should have done it in the first attempt.’

We were very happy to hear it from LB but we were equally sad about PB’s disqualification. He didn’t say anything. We couldn’t feel the way he did as we were out of that situation. We thought it better to keep our mouth shut and give him some time to recover.

Two days later An auto was standing just outside 1-PA-90.

Preet, Saahil and I were to bid farewell to LB and PB. They were leaving Kota forever. It was hard to bid bye. Life is ephemeral but love and friendship are eternal. We all got emotional and the auto set off.

‘You would definitely get Smita and IIT. All the best Akash!’ Those were the last words I heard from the mouth of LB in Kota.

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We all came back loaded with bullets of old memories.

Few weeks later That page kept reminding me of Smita. I was

coming closer to her again. I was trying to justify her stand.

It’s not her fault. If I would have been at her position I would have done the same. Is it necessary to give your notes to a stranger? Or is it necessary to blurt out your results to an unknown face?

It was then that I made up my mind to meet her again. Diwali holidays were not far off and she was leaving for her native place as per my info.

I went to check her class timings on the notice board. Her class was going to be over by 7 P.M. I already knew her hostel. I reached Gurukul quarter to 7 and started strolling. I then thought of performing a Simple Harmonic Motion (SHM) between her hostel and Gurukul with mean position as Kota Dairy.

I was clad in a black shirt and blue jeans. I had my bag on my shoulders to give me an apparent student look. Five oscillations of my SHM were over when I saw her. She was in a hurry. Experience told me that it’s worst to run behind a girl. I was not in a mood to repeat any of my mistakes.

She was approaching me. Again my heart beats started increasing by her Doppler effect and I felt nervous. It was a face to face encounter.

She came closer and closer. What are you doing, stupid? She’ll go away. Say

something!

K.O.T.A 105

Her shoulders just brushed mine when I broke the silence.

‘Hi Smita!’ She cringed with fear. ‘Happy journey and Happy Diwali in advance.’ My heartbeats then got normal. She smiled and

put strides of hair falling on her cheek behind her ears. She looked as beautiful as ever.

‘Thank you so much,’ she said. I couldn’t expect any more. I was the happiest

person on the earth at that moment. She went away but left me crazy. When I reached home I found two new faces at 1-PA-90. Mudit was the new member of PB cum LB’s room, and Nikhil, of my ex-room. Mudit was in 11th class and was found missing since the day he joined. Nikhil was in N-4 batch. We both were in F-7 in the beginning and so we became friends soon. He knew Smita and my story. He shared his story too. Malini was the girl whom he loved like crazy. But she was not interested and when he tried to ask her name she replied with a NO! I detested girls with such an attitude. Nikhil was heart-broken since then. I consoled him.

Coming Diwali had much more in store.

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37

PRE-DIWALI

‘Akash, come out!’ Preet yelled near my door. ‘I’m solving a tough APQ. Please don’t

disturb,’ I replied. ‘Crackers! Don’t you like them?’ Those words compelled me to open the door. A week later we were going to have our Diwali

vacation, the only week long vacation in Gurukul. ‘Crackers!’ Saahil shouted from his room. He had that unbelievable habit of completing

all his Gurukul work and then jumping onto all non-Gurukul activities. Nikhil too joined us. We were then roaming on the busy roads, searching recklessly for a cracker shop, which we eventually found.

‘Look, green Sutli bombs (popular Indian crackers)! It makes noise enough for our landlord to come to our feet,’ Preet said.

‘Like Lord Of The Rings we have Landlord=Lord Of The Lands,’ Saahil smirked.

‘Let’s buy a few flower pots and rockets,’ I said, concentrating more on crackers.

We bought crackers worth 200 Rupees. We decided to put a cracker near pigs residence for fun. Preet lit fire on it and came running. One unfortunate pig, returning home fruitlessly saw the gun-powder burning and got hypnotized. It came near to sniff as eyes are vestigial to pigs. They prefer keeping their noses in the front. It came near the cracker. We all held our breaths. The fire went off momentarily. The pig groaned and took a

K.O.T.A 107

few steps back. It again took a few brave steps ahead and then Saahil shouted, ‘Get back, you fool!’

‘Run!’ we all roared. The pig groaned and ran to its maximum (max) speed.

Boom! The cracker exploded just a few seconds after that race for survival. The pig would have surely taken an oath not to come back there, forever.

Later, our night show commenced. Crackers were set ablaze through candles. Plumbum, Nilesh and Johny too came in. Many bombs disappointed us by sounding more like rockets. Some flower pots transformed into bombs, unexpectedly. We shifted the show from the road to our terrace.

‘It’s now the turn for 7 Heavens. It would blast up in the air to show all what we got,’ Preet shouted.

Nikhil ignited it and shit! It exploded on the terrace displaying 7 heavens on the earth. For us it created a hell instead. Everyone did a hip hop to save their hips. Someone rightly said- Dance is in every act of life.

Soon the lord of the lands i.e. the landlord arrived, grumbling at the manifest of our cracker show.

‘You are not supposed to create a Dolby Digital in our peaceful house. Have fun on the road.’

Our gang was driven back to the ground level from the excited state.

‘Who the fuck is bursting so many crackers. I saw you twice and thrice,’ a drunken man from our neighborhood barked as he traced Preet out

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of the crowd. ‘Should I plant a bomb at your room? You Sister Fucker,’ he said.

I heard that slang for the second time. We were about to kick his ass when Saahil stopped us all.

‘Sorry Uncle! Preet, let’s go,’ he said to prevent a mishap. Preet stood silent. He felt as bad as I did when I got abused in the same manner.

‘He’s badly drunk, understand,’ Saahil whispered.

That was the end of our show, though not on a friendly note.

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38

WHEATOS OR CHEATOS?

‘Wheatos, a new restaurant is going to be inaugurated today,’ Saahil said.

‘Let’s try some new stuff there tonight,’ Preet proposed.

I nodded. Even 13 different meals at Sangam couldn’t suffice us. Human mind is never satisfied. It hates to be monotonous. We also wanted to make our mood fresh after that fire cracker incident, especially Preet. Nikhil had some work and so didn’t come. Mudit was never found.

Maheshwari restaurant was the best in Kota at that time. But many restaurants capitalized on its name and I proudly took my parents to a bad restaurant every time in my trial and error process.

‘Is this the Maheshwari restaurant you usually boast off?’ my parents inquired.

Finally, one day Saahil told me that the best Maheshwari restaurant was about 16 kilometers away. That distance killed our desires to go there. Wheatos was our new hope, being just three kilometers away.

‘It’s near Mesonance’s new building,’ Saahil informed.

Mesonance was the biggest competitor of Gurukul. But Gurukul always got an edge because of its elite students.

We took our bicycles and dashed toward Wheatos. New Mesonance building was the most recent and gorgeous of all the buildings. It soon acclaimed the status of an important landmark.

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Within minutes we were in front of our destination-Wheatos. Bunch of boys and girls crowded the entrance area. We managed to get a seat for each of us after much struggle. The restaurant was fully AC. It was well decorated and attentive waiters flanked all over the place. Menu was presented before us. Fancy dishes like disco samosa, valentine shake etc decorated it. And then we saw a mouth watering picture of an ice cream.

‘We should try this one, cheapest of all,’ Saahil suggested.

We ordered three Strawberry Sizzler ice-creams. The waiter made us wait for 20 long minutes and then he turned up with three beautiful glasses. My jaws dropped down. Saahil’s eye balls were out of his sockets. Preet was scratching his head.

‘Do you think we are here just to taste two spoons of an ice-cream with a silly cherry on its top for Rs 40 when Cornetto, much larger in quantity is easily available everywhere at Rs 10,’ Saahil shouted.

The waiter shrugged. I was about to leave the table but I didn’t like

the notion of wasting food. Soon the bill was placed on our table. We expected it to be an affair of 120 Rupees for the three of us. But there came a final blow from Wheatos. 20% service tax! That was too much on the inauguration day itself. Students deserved concession but in Kota no such service existed. Business flourished only due to students. So how could the term concession ever originate? We felt cheated.

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We raced away from Wheatos as fast as we could. A little knowledge about that place was really a very dangerous thing for our wallets. The first impression of Wheatos marked its last impression. The only doubt we had-

‘Is it Wheatos or Cheatos?’

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39

GUNDEY

‘Hey! There is a match today, between India

and Pakistan. It would be a riveting encounter,’ Saahil announced.

‘A cricket match!’ Preet exclaimed. My eyes were still immersed in the abyss of

unending, still pending APQs. ‘I came to know of Modern Video Library. It

lends T.V. sets, VCD players etc on a daily basis at reasonable rates,’ Saahil told.

My eyes were then fixed on Saahil. ‘But from where do we get a cable

connection?’ I asked. No cable connection, no match. ‘Don’t worry. I have a plan. When Saahil is

there, nothing to fear.’ We all knew- When Saahil is there, only then you

need to fear. It was his plan to go to Wheatos. ‘Let’s first place an order for a T.V. set,’ Saahil

proposed. ‘Sorry Saahil! My APQs are still incomplete.

You take Preet along with.’ ‘APQs come daily but not Indo-Pak cricket

matches. Do you understand the seriousness of these matches? If you are a real patriot with Indian blood gushing through your veins, join us.’

I was stunned. Is it really that serious? Cricket matches between India and Pakistan

are supposed to be the best means to give a

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befitting reply to the opposition, without waging a real war. It’s a question of prestige.

India and Pakistan always want to settle their scores. ‘I’m coming.’ The patriotic feeling made me

ditch those APQs. 10 minutes later We were standing in front of Modern Video

Library. ‘Philips or LG?’ the shop owner asked. ‘Anyone would do. We need the T.V. set till

tomorrow morning,’ Saahil said. ‘Done! 100 Rupees.’ He was more than happy

for he had new customers in his net. Saahil handed over 101 Rupees to him like a

Shagun (Omen). The owner penned down our contact details in a well maintained register. Then he sent few guys on a scooter to install it in Saahil’s room. Landlord was peeking outside when the guys left the house.

Saahil then started executing his plans. He had a cable wire and he connected it to the cable wire of our son of a bitch neighbor, hanging on our terrace. He pirated the cable connection in that way.

‘You would get us killed,’ Preet yelled. ‘Shut up and enjoy,’ Saahil replied. His room was no less than Om Cineplex. We

clapped when Indian players outperformed Pakistani counterparts. As expected, it was a nail biting finish. Artificial nail cutters lost their importance at that moment as natural ones were working voluntarily. I was reminded of the cricket match we played in the park. A similar ending sealed the fate of Indian team that day.

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‘Indian team is a real killjoy. They were never going to lose. What was the need to hit a six on the last ball when only two runs were required?’ Saahil was disappointed. And so were we. Preet was avoiding eye contact with us as he did the same.

Eight hours wasted! That fact was biting me hard. I could have finished two APQs by then.

Next day The shop owner along with an assistant was

taking the T.V. set back when Saahil’s words stopped him.

‘Bhaiya! We gave you one rupee extra. Please return it because India lost. It’s no more a Shagun.’

‘What? You Gundey (Goon)!’ he exclaimed. We all started laughing at that silly demand

made by Saahil. Since then the shop owner nicknamed us all-

Gundey (Goons) and we in turn used to call him by the same. But we were still unaware of a name that striked many great careers in Kota.

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40

COUNTER STRIKE

Preet turned up after a period of six hours. ‘Where were you?’ I asked. ‘I was in Mallik, playing Condition Zero aka

CS.’ ‘What?’ ‘CS,’ he repeated. ‘Counter Strike. The best

mission game ever designed. After completing Rise of Nations, I thought to lay my hands on it,’ he explained.

‘What’s it all about?’ He explained it in depth, as if it was in IIT-

JEE syllabi. ‘It’s a battle between notorious terrorists and

patriotic Counter Terrorists. Terrorists try to perform their pious duty of scaring the hell out of Counter Terrorists by kidnapping people and planting bombs,’ he said. ‘Counter Terrorists perform the tedious task of bringing terrorists back to their senses, by diffusing their bombs and terminating them to restore a state of law and order.’

Saahil arrived with Nikhil and Plumbum and joined the conversation. After all, CS was hot topic among students.

‘Let’s play it today,’ Saahil suggested. ‘At Mallik’s,’ Preet shouted. ‘Let’s do a night out and experience the real

fun of CS,’ Plumbum supported. We completed all our homework at supersonic

speed to play CS.

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12 A.M. Saahil used to have a duplicate key of the lock

of our PG’s gate. ‘Mallik Bhaiya! Five of us,’ Saahil ordered. We got inside and the shutters of the shop

were closed. Around 40 computers were bowing before us.

But only five were our slaves for that night. Soon Mallik’s was houseful with a variety of CS freaks. They kept discussing about their past games, and kept plotting strategies for that night.

‘I would go to LA. You attack from SA,’ one of them said.

‘What are these LA and SA?’ I whispered in Preet’s ear.

‘Look! There are two bomb sites-A and B. LA means longer route to A and SA refers to the shorter one. You have to play at least three to four times to memorize the map,’ Preet explained.

Like a perfect tutor he explained all the keyboard keys required and their functions.

‘For auto buy, press F1. You can buy grenades, smoke bombs, Kevlar and Helmet. Remember, diffusal kit helps you in diffusing bombs rapidly. Keep pressing E to plant or diffuse a bomb.’

Battle ensued. We five were a part of a 20 member Counter Terrorist clan fighting against a 20 member terrorist clan. Everyone was connected via LAN. For the first three matches none of us could aim properly at our enemies except Preet.

‘Try to aim at the head of your opponent. It’ll kill instantly, in one shot,’ Preet suggested me via headphone.

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Next round I took Night Hawk, Saahil a sub machine gun,

Preet a sniper, Plumbum a shotgun and Nikhil was a maverick with a maverick. And then our enemies started falling down.

‘Head shot. Wow!’ Preet exclaimed. We eliminated half of our enemy clan with headshots. For the whole night, the game continued on just two maps- Inferno and De Dust 2. Many regular players patted our back for such an extra-ordinary performance.

We came back at 5 A.M. Landlord came out on hearing the slightest of the noises made on the gate, as if he was waiting for us from days.

‘Got up so early today?’ he asked in suspicion. ‘Just some morning walk, Uncle!’ Saahil said. Two days later we had exams. But someone

more dangerous was coming to bite me.

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41

KEEDA

Sunday Whole world celebrated it as a holiday. But for

us it was a day full of nightmares coming true. Exam! For many students, exams were fun. But for

me, it was a chance to 1) regain lost dignity 2) inch closer to my missions- IIT-JEE and

Smita 3) make my parents proud

Exam got over by evening. I was at my room when Saahil knocked at my door. I found a strange countenance whom I never met earlier.

‘Hi! Bhaskar,’ he said. ‘Alias Keeda (Insect),’ Saahil interrupted. ‘He’s

in M-2, Smita’s batch.’ As time passed by, I increased conversations

with Keeda. Eventually I found something that scared the hell out of me. Keeda had a soft corner for Smita. And when he found the same about me, like poles (soft corners) repelled. He tried his best to make me put a bonfire to that corner.

One day, he came up with news that shook the world around me.

‘Hi Akash! You know, Smita is engaged to a guy from N-4 batch.’

‘What?’ I remained speechless for a few seconds. She

loves someone else? Is this the end of my Choti Si (Short) Love Story? I was skeptical of Keeda’s motives.

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‘Just confirm it from someone of N-4.’ N-4. My mind kept googling to find out

hyperlinks of that batch. Search results- One file found…Nikhil. A few hours later, I had a chat with Nikhil and

told him the whole matter. He gathered all relevant info about that guy who was supposedly in affair with Smita.

‘Akash, it’s a cooked up story by Keeda. You know what that guy said?’

I kept my fingers crossed. ‘Who’s Smita? I don’t know her. Is she hot? That’s

all he said.’ Nikhil relieved me and my chances were still

alive. I thanked him a lot for his timely help. Few days later ‘It’s worse news. Smita is found roaming with

a boy from UAV School.’ ‘I have nothing to do with her. So let her roam

with anyone she likes. And keep your info with you.’ I showed my disinterest to Keeda.

But I knew I was bothered. I again set spies to find out the veracity of Keeda’s story. 2nd COL- You become possessive about her and you feel jealous of all those guys who wander around her.

That time Agent Johny came to my rescue. ‘Keeda is kidding. He is actually her good

friend. That’s it. She’s still single.’ Johny’s words were more than a consolation prize for me.

Conclusion- Keeda was synonymous to an insect, ready to bite me anytime.

Saahil introduced Keeda to me. And soon he introduced something wilder to me.

A BF.

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42

BF BF. A term that’s on the tongues of all. In Pastry shops- Black Forrest. In Banks- Brought Forward. ‘How many BFs do you have? Oh! Just seven

Boy Friends?’ girls often discuss. Cars too have a BF. If someone makes a BF of

your car then only God can save you. Brake Fail, the worst condition after gaining speed.

But for boys, BF refers to Blue Films. Films meant for viewers of age group 18 and above. With a faster rate of maturity among boys and girls, BF attracted a younger audience too.

I never understood the logic behind the color blue. Why they were not referred to as ultraviolet films or rather infrared? Blue means gloomy but they never were.

In Kota people gave them an even fancier name- ABC. Initially they were grouped into X, XX, XXX based on the extent of nudity in them. But then they were renamed as ABC in Kota. I’m sure that Holy Faith publishers would keep grudging about that, as they have books named ABC of Math, ABC of Physics and so on.

‘Akash! Have you ever seen a BF in your life?’ Saahil asked.

I shook my head. ‘Come on boy! Grow up. It’s time to learn.

Don’t end up in a nerd. You should have knowledge of everything,’ Saahil advised.

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‘Is it compulsory? I don’t really wish to see all that stuff…innocent looking girls getting wild,’ I refused.

‘What would you do when Smita gets wild?’ Saahil asked, raising his brow.

‘Please don’t involve her in these stupid stuffs. I don’t love her that way. If that was the case, I would have ended running behind your sexy Kajal,’ I said, shielding Smita. 5th COL- It’s spiritual and much more than lust.

‘Every girl has some desires and if they aren’t met, you are surely going to be dumped. After all girls are more desperate for sex than boys,’ Saahil said, reflecting his vast knowledge in that field.

‘Plumbum and Begi too are joining me. You are most welcome. Just try it once,’ Saahil winked. Begi was our new fast friend and Saahil’s batch mate. He was a football freak.

‘Gundey would be very happy today as we are hiring a T.V. set and a DVD player from him after a long time,’ he continued.

Few hours later Preet arrived with Plumbum and Begi. We exchanged a Hi. ‘Preet, are you going to watch a BF tonight?’ I asked. He shook his head.

‘Saahil and I went to Gundey’s shop to place the order. That’s it. I’m not interested in BFs. Saahil would be back soon,’ Preet said.

Nikhil was staying at his batch mate’s room to discuss some APQs that night. For the whole night I heard moaning of girls as Saahil turned up the speakers to the loudest. The screams were periodic.

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‘Saahil, reduce the volume! Don’t create a Dolby Digital in our peaceful house,’ landlord shouted. He was standing just below the balcony, on the ground floor.

‘Sorry Uncle, it won’t be repeated. We were just listening to some pious opera,’ Saahil replied from the balcony.

I came out to find the door of his room partially open. I saw Plumbum and Begi still watching the T.V. when Saahil headed downstairs to pacify the landlord. Their faces depicted innocence, as if they were watching some new discovery on Discovery Channel.

Preet came out as well. We entered Saahil’s room to check out the truthfulness of his words. There I saw a topless girl and a boy shaking his member, on the T.V. screen. Preet and I ran off the site to prevent further corruption of our minds.

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43

BAAZIGAR

‘Wake up boys! It’s Sunday. Time for cricket,’ Saahil shouted while wearing his shoes.

Preet, Nikhil and I came out of our rooms, still rubbing our eyes.

‘Today we are going to play on a real cricket pitch completely different from the one we had at MCG,’ Saahil said.

‘Where?’ Preet asked. ‘Commerce College Ground.’ We reached the ground by 7:00 A.M. That

Sunday we had no exams. But extra-classes were still a matter of concern.

Johny, Plumbum, Mayank, Hemant, Begi were all waiting for us. Plumbum and Begi were narrating their first BF experience to the rest when we joined. The only thing Saahil missed badly at that ground was a girls hostel.

Mayank and Hemant were fast/medium pace bowlers. Hemant had been a state level player before getting into Gurukul. He was in L-1. Mayank was not that good in studies as he was in cricket.

Teams were decided and toss was done. Hemant was the captain of my team and we had to bowl. Saahil and Mayank opened the innings for their side. Saahil always loved to be the captain of the ship.

Hemant bowled the first over with accurate line and length. And then it was my turn to bowl the second over.

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2.1- Six. Mayank whacked it over the covers. 2.2- Four. That time on the leg side. Mayank’s batting style was an exact replica of

Moin Khan’s (popular Pakistani wicket keeper). He was not a very good batsman because he closed his eyes and by some luck factor, he got a sweet timing from the middle of his bat. As a bowler I had to do something. And for any fast bowler, the slower one is a titanic change.

2.3- Slower one. He missed. 2.4- Again a slower one. Dot ball! 2.5- Slow off cutter. Edged but safe! Dot ball! 2.6- Slow leg cutter. Bold! Then Johny came to the crease. 16/1. I was fielding at long off. I saw two dogs

strolling past me. I became cautious. Hemant’s next over began. 3.1- Ball hit straight toward me and what a

mishap! I saw dogs running behind me as I ran to field the ball. I let the ball go and ran toward the bowler. 4 runs, just because of those stupid, ballphillic dogs. For some time we became spectators of dog cricket. I was sure that there won’t be any Man of the Match award for such an animal driven match.

The owner of those dogs barked, ‘Give them their ball.’ And like good animals, the dogs surrendered the ball.

The play resumed. The batsmen decided to have a go on the bowlers and then it was a shower of runs. At the end of the innings, Saahil and Johny were still not out and the score board showed 80/1. We had only eight overs to achieve that target. Hemant and I opened the innings and

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in the very first over we lost the precious wicket of Hemant. He lofted the ball up in the air, under pressure and our team lost all hopes of winning. But I wanted to prove my mettle.

‘It would be my best innings ever,’ I made a silent promise to Smita residing in my mind. And then I played without fear, without flaws.

We lost no more wickets and managed to get a score of 60/1 at the end of the penultimate over. 21 runs were required to win in the last over. I was at the striker’s end, facing Johny’s bowling.

7.1- Long, high and maximum. Six! 7.2- Even higher. Another Six! Hemant came running to hug me. I turned the

tide of the match. 7.3- I hit the ball straight to Saahil. I was

pushing for a double. But brilliant fielding on his part reduced it to a single.

7.4- Dot ball! Johny was then smiling. 7.5- Another single. Last ball! 7 runs required. 7.6- I lofted the ball but it bounced just before

the fence. 4 runs! We lost the match by 2 runs. Still I won kudos for my best knock ever.

We stole all the hearts that day and became Baazigar (Gambler) by our performance. But on the coming Sunday, someone stole much more.

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44

MAID

Maids. The sole agents meant for keeping clothes and

rooms of busy IIT aspirants clean. I met many maids in my IIT-JEE journey. But one needs a special mention. Chameli.

She was dusky, 45 years old, very lean and short statured. She had a thin cheek owing to tobacco addiction. She was not that good in her work as we expected. Yet we consoled ourselves as Something is better than Nothing. But one day everything changed- our views, Chameli’s demands and Preet’s bank balance.

Sunday, 10 A.M. I was studying systematically for Gurukul

exams when a knock at my door caught my attention.

‘Everything fine, Preet?’ I asked. He entered inside.

‘Close the door. I have some secret intelligence report for you,’ he whispered.

He sat on my bed as I closed the door. I got seated on my study chair.

‘What report?’ I ventured. ‘Our maid is a thief.’ ‘What?’ ‘Shhhh! She still thinks I’m ignorant of the

whole incident.’ ‘Elaborate,’ I commanded.

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‘Actually last night I encashed Rs 8000 from ATM to deposit tuition fees at St. Johns School,’ he told.

‘Where did you keep your cash?’ I asked. ‘On my study rack, just above my books.’ ‘So you kept your money on a rack where the

whole world can see it?’ ‘I had to deposit the money today morning,’ he

justified. ‘But you should have kept it safe. Do you have

any solid proof of her being the thief?’ ‘You need a proof? She’s sweeping Saahil’s

room and next is yours. Let’s keep a 5 Rs coin on your floor. Just wait and watch,’ Preet said and took out his wallet.

The whole process was no less than a school experiment.

AIM- To determine the real culprit. APPARATUS- Rs 5 (unbiased coin), a room

without tenant. THEORY- Newton’s law of robbery states

that money, if kept open, is subjected to an autonomous pull by an external agent called robber. This process is termed as robbery.

PROCEDURE- 1) Place the coin on the floor. 2) Leave your room stealthily. 3) Take your observations from a different

location. A bathroom isn’t a bad choice. 4) Repeat the above steps till the coin is found

missing and the culprit is caught red handed. 5) Draw an observation table.

RESULT- ______is the culprit.

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We didn’t have spy cams or cell phones with video recording facility and most importantly, time.

Preet ran to blurt out the matter to Saahil and Nikhil when Chameli entered my room. Mudit as expected was not in his room. We took observations from Preet’s room. After she came out of my room, I entered. Preet came running. Saahil and Nikhil followed him.

‘No coin. Chameli is the culprit,’ Preet declared.

We reported the whole matter to Landlord’s wife. She came upstairs to settle the matter.

‘Chameli, where are Preet’s 8000 Rupees? We know you have it,’ she shouted.

‘What? Memsaahab (lady lord), never before had anyone blamed me for any theft in my sweeping career of 15 years. I don’t want to work here anymore.’

She threw the broom on the floor in disgust as if it wasn’t Preet but she who lost 8000 Rupees. We were not able to do a quick scan as she being a woman kept money in that portion of her body where we could have never asked for.

She quit the job. No money back offer. I was reminded of that F.I.R incident in which LB lost 10,000 Rupees.

‘Shit, I lost 8000 Rupees,’ Preet said in despair. ‘8005 Rupees. Forgot that 5 Rs coin?’ Saahil

reminded. Chameli swept Preet’s bank balance. But

something bigger was coming to sweep whole Kota.

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45

FLOOD

Saturday, 7 A.M. ‘Akash, wake up! Gates of Kota Barrage have

surrendered to the indomitable water force,’ Saahil yelled.

I jumped out of my bed. Preet and Nikhil too came out of their rooms. We all ran toward the balcony to find a stream of water gushing through the road leading to Gurukul.

‘All nine gates of Kota barrage along the Chambal River have been opened to release the overflowing water after incessant rains, and so far 17000 cusec water has been released,’ Saahil elaborated.

‘Yes! Holiday,’ Preet was elated. ‘Plumbum and I are going to check it out,’

Saahil announced. ‘Let’s take my scooter,’ Plumbum offered. 15 minutes later ‘Look at Plumbum!’ Nikhil pointed. Plumbum was disheveled, as if he jumped in a

swimming pool of pigs i.e. drain. ‘A funny incident took place,’ Saahil said. ‘I

was riding the scooter with Plumbum sitting at the back. Near Gurukul, so much water accumulated that tires of the scooter got invisible.’

‘And then Saahil did the unforgivable. He changed the gear of the scooter without using clutch. The front tire jumped into the air and I fell down into the river of pigs,’ Plumbum complained.

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‘I just saw one hand going down slowly, same like a drowning scene in a movie,’ Saahil dramatized. We all were then drowned in the torrent of laughter.

‘By the way today is a holiday. The ground floor of Gurukul is flooded with water. Even SP’s car got stuck up in the flood,’ Plumbum said.

‘Let’s go to Sangam. I pray that it remains open,’ Preet said.

‘I’m also feeling hungry,’ Nikhil declared. Sangam was fortunate because it had dining

facilities on the first floor unlike other mess centers. Soon the raincoats and umbrellas were out. The most challenging part was to wade through the flood water, with the stream force bending us on our knees.

Nature is more powerful than humans. Still our intelligence and will power overpowers it. During the entire journey to Sangam I fell down twice. I then came to know about the juggernaut fluid force for the first time.

‘Sangam is not crowded as usual. Thank you flood,’ I said.

‘Only eight students including five of us,’ Plumbum counted.

The meal was delicious. We were then back to our rooms. But the torrent amused us so much that we decided to go back. Never before in my life had I seen a flood. The water was at waist level and so, not dangerous.

We took a plastic ball to play. When we reached the road, we discovered many students already playing and dancing in water. We joined the party and started Catch-Catch game. Nikhil and

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Preet formed one team. Plumbum, Saahil and I were in the rival team. Our team was stronger, Saahil and I being good fielders. But as it was a friendly match, we deliberately underperformed. Nikhil dived into the water three times to make his catches look spectacular. And then we saw the unexpected.

A pig came flowing by and was groaning. It was the same water in which we were playing, the same water in which Preet dipped his face and the same water that Nikhil gulped ignorantly.

Everybody gave a nauseated expression. We thought it better to leave at the earliest so as to avoid polluting it more with our vomits. We were wondering whether we would ever again encounter a flood like that. We dared to play in that flood and soon we were to play, to dare.

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46

JOHNY GADDAR

‘Akash! Still studying? Come on Phodu. Tomorrow is Gandhi Jayanti (birth anniversary),’ Johny reminded.

I barely realized the fact that it was really a holiday. In Kota, coaching students did forget the real definition of holidays.

‘Was it mentioned on the notice board?’ I immediately asked.

‘It’s a national holiday. Don’t you know that?’ Preet answered my silly question.

We already had our meals by then. Saahil was still invisible, his room being locked. We were busy in our evening discussions when Nilesh and Saahil joined us.

‘Let’s play Truth Or Dare,’ Saahil proposed. ‘Nice idea!’ Preet and Johny were elated. I was

also excited. Nilesh took a soft drink bottle to begin the game.

‘Hey! That’s my bottle,’ Saahil protested. ‘Just for tonight buddy,’ Nilesh resisted. We all sat down forming a circle. Johny set the

bottle rotating and it halted, pointing toward Johny himself.

‘Dare,’ he said instantly. Everybody out there was aware of the grave

consequences of taking a Truth. ‘You have to ring the bell of our son of a bitch

neighbor,’ I demanded. Johny shook his head. All eyes were transfixed

on him.

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‘Okay!’ he surrendered. He ran downstairs and rang the bell. ‘Who’s there?’ a feminine voice from our

neighbor’s inquired. Johny replied by sprinting as fast as he could.

It was a question of life or death for him, as if he was a prey to a hungry tigress. He finally joined us with sweat accompanying him.

‘I Am Alive!’ he sang. The bottle was again set for a roll and that time

it pointed toward Nikhil. ‘Truth.’ Unbelievable! It wasn’t expected of Nikhil. ‘Tell us about your girl friend,’ a demand came

from all other mouths. ‘Leave this question. What about Malini? Do

you still have a crush upon her?’ Saahil winked. I was the only one to commiserate with Nikhil

at that moment. His crush for Malini was crushed. ‘I came to know she’s a Delhite. Do you have

any idea of Delhi girls? They dump boys like crap. I hope she isn’t one such,’ Saahil continued.

Nikhil’s facial expressions suggested he wasn’t pleased to hear that. Johny set the bottle rotating to change the topic. The bottle pointed at Preet.

‘Dare!’ his instant reply. ‘Do 30 pushups,’ Johny demanded. ‘What? Can’t it be reduced to some novice

level?’ Preet begged. After 20 pushups he fell down. The bottle was again set rotating and then the

worst happened. It foolishly pointed toward me. ‘Dare!’

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‘Kiss the person in this circle whom you love the most,’ Johny demanded.

I thought for a second and kissed Saahil’s cheek.

‘Flee, you gay!’ Saahil uttered. Preet was upset. But he soon took it sportingly

as he realized that it was just a game. ‘That’s unfair. You have to kiss on his lips,’

Nilesh shouted. Saahil glared at Nilesh. Bottle was set rotating for the last time. And

again it showed its tongue to Johny. ‘Shit!’ he exclaimed. ‘You have to run 10 rounds on the terrace of

our son of a bitch neighbor,’ I ordered instantly. ‘Hey! What’s the problem? You had the quarrel

with that son of a bitch and I’m your trumpet now.’ Johny knew that he had no choice. We went

on our terrace. Since there was only a small wall in between our neighbor’s and our terrace, Johny jumped to the other side and started running. All of us started clapping. He jumped back to our terrace opposing our applause.

‘Saale Johny Gaddar (Traitor)! Go back! Who asked you to take dare? Now don’t cheat!’ Preet yelled.

We forced him to run again till a feminine voice halted his sprint.

‘Who’s on the terrace?’ That time we all ran. We landed safely into my

room and started laughing. I was wondering when would we again set the bottle rotating and what would be my choice then- Truth or Dare?

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47

SPLITSVILLA-2

Misunderstandings are like sparks that can ignite fire within the hearts of even best friends resulting in mishaps, eventually burning everyone coming their way. It sparked between me and Saahil and later between me and Arpit. And then it took place between Saahil and Nikhil.

It was late in the evening when Preet entered my room. I was busy with my APQs, feeling the heat of the work load and exams. We were discussing the most unimportant topics on the earth. All of a sudden we heard some noise. Somebody was grumbling.

‘Did you hear that noise?’ Preet asked. ‘But what’s it?’ I wondered. Preet went to check it out and came back

running. ‘Akash, make it fast to Saahil’s room. Usne

Chulha Patak Diya (He crushed ovens)!’ We both dashed to his room to find him and

Nikhil static and glaring at each other. It was like a scene of an art movie where everyone was still for a few minutes.

‘What do you think of yourself?’ Nikhil adjusted his vocal cord’s volume to the max level.

‘Keep your volume down. I too know how to shout,’ Saahil roared.

‘What’s happening?’ I asked. But they heard nothing.

‘Why did you utter the name of Malini in between Truth or Dare?’ Nikhil demanded.

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‘It’s just a game, stupid,’ Saahil replied. ‘You think me to be stupid because I’m in a

lower batch. Who do you think you are?’ Nikhil misunderstood Saahil. He was already

frustrated because of Malini’s attitude and Saahil’s words acted as oil for fire. The temperature of the room was increasing because of that heated argument.

‘I never said this. But if you think so then it’s well and good.’

‘What has happened to you both? Why are you behaving like kids?’ Preet asked.

I was sandwiched between them and was an insulator for the heated set up. Saahil’s fist then passed my right ear and landed on Nikhil’s chest. And then another. I was just like an unfortunate referee of a wrestling match. Nikhil pushed me aside and retaliated by kicking Saahil’s abdomen. Preet and I tried to stop the ugly dog fight like situation. Finally we took control over the two beasts dwelling inside those two bodies.

Nikhil was very upset. He rushed to his room. I followed him. He hid his face with his hands in despair. I put a hand on his shoulder to console him.

‘He has the right to say anything to me because I’m in a lower batch. But do tell him that some things are greater than these petty batches- your culture, your friendship and your virtues.’

I was then sure that Nikhil misunderstood Saahil. But what he said was absolutely right.

1-PA-90 was again a Splitsvilla. We tried to make a patch up between them but cracks that appear in a mirror are difficult to repair.

K.O.T.A 137

A few days later I knocked at Saahil’s door. I was surprised to

find Nikhil opening it up. ‘Come in Akash. Nikhil is so funny. He’s

skeptical that Preet would ever opt for love marriage. I think Preet would prefer to marry PC games. Even if he goes for an arrange marriage, he would ask for computer games and play stations in dowry,’ Saahil said.

I couldn’t stop a smile on my face. I was happy to find the fissure produced in the glasshouse of friendship repaired. I was hopeful that peace and tranquility prevail in 1-PA-90 so that it never becomes a Splitsvilla again. A treat was a must after such good news and we soon got it.

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48

UNSTOPPABLE

We were perching in my room, discussing all possible matters existing on this planet. Usually one started debating on some petty topic and then we all dived from one pool to another- from history to mystery, from tax to sex, from banks to tanks. That was a common feature in the rooms of all the students of Kota. Debates and discussions were the best time pass existing at that time. Anish, a common friend of Preet, Saahil and mine ended all debates through his proposal.

‘Friends, my mom has arrived today morning from Mumbai. She was asking about you guys. Do come to my room today,’ Anish said.

‘Sure!’ I affirmed. ‘An even better idea,’ Nilesh started. ‘What?’ Saahil asked. ‘Let’s have a treat from Anish in the form of a

dinner prepared by Auntie. It has been a long time since we had homemade food. No doubt, Sangam’s meal is comparable to a five star hotel, still it misses the magical homely flavor,’ Nilesh proposed.

‘Why not? It would be a great pleasure. You all are invited,’ Anish said.

By evening, we all were set for the blast. We all formed a circle at Anish’s room, as if

for a round table conference. Nilesh had his bowels completely empty so as to grab the max out of that delicious banquet. When Auntie

K.O.T.A 139

arrived in the hall where we were seated, we touched her feet as a mark of reverence.

‘Namaste (Greetings)! I hope you guys like Sattu parathas (type of flat-breads). Or should I prepare something else?’ Auntie was skeptical about our choice. But like good boys, we were there to taste the flavor of homely love.

Sattu Paratha is a famous dish of North India, especially U.P. and Bihar. It’s very nutritious. It reminded us of SB.

After watching all contented faces, Auntie rushed to the temporary kitchen adjoining the hall. She triggered the process of making delicious Sattu parathas. It was no less than a nuclear reaction. The smell from the kitchen compelled the rats in our stomachs to jump and fission into more. Nilesh was the worst affected.

Anish was the host for the evening. He followed his mom’s instructions and kept the plates for each one of us. And then the long wait got over. Auntie arrived with a hot case full of hot Sattu parathas. It’s scientifically proved that temperature affects the taste of food materials. But we never had any idea of the grave consequences lying ahead.

Anish kept a paratha in each plate including his and then we all pounced upon it. The scene was analogous to the one from Satte pe Satta (popular Bollywood movie) in which all seven brothers pounce upon the meal prepared by Hema Malini (very popular Bollywood actress nicknamed as Dreamgirl).

After having four parathas, all of us were done except one. For Nilesh- Abhi to shuruwat hai (It’s

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just the beginning). We were mere spectator ions of his chemical reaction to that nuclear reaction.

6,7,8,9. He was UNSTOPPABLE. The only question

was- Paet hai ki kuan? (Is it a stomach or a well?) His answer to that was- It’s neither. It’s in fact

a tube well. All eyes were transfixed upon him- some gazing, others glaring.

‘Leave some parathas for Auntie. Show some mercy,’ Johny pleaded.

It then came to Nilesh that he had enough and he had to forsake his beastly hunger for her. The treat got over. We thanked Auntie for the wonderful dinner and again touched her feet.

We all were praying for a similar treat in the near future. Nilesh’s appetite horrified us, but soon we came to know the real definition of horror.

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49

PARANORMAL ACTIVITY

‘Do you believe in ghosts?’ Preet asked. ‘I do,’ I replied. ‘What about you?’ ‘I haven’t experienced any Paranormal Activity

so far. So scientifically speaking, I don’t believe in them. But there’s a part of my heart that does believe in them.’

‘I believe in souls and not ghosts. You know there’s an analogy between souls and computers.’

‘How can you say that?’ We both were sitting on my bed, wondering

over the exciting topic of souls and spirits. ‘Computer is basically composed of two

things. Can you name them?’ I asked. ‘Monitor and CPU,’ he said confidently. ‘I was talking about hardware and software,’ I

disagreed. ‘What’s the specialty of software?’ ‘It exists virtually.’ ‘Bang on! Software exists within the computer

but we can’t feel it or touch it. In the same way soul exists within the body to operate it. Body is the hardware of human machinery, the soul its software,’ I explained.

‘Great theory!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do you know about Planchette?’ I asked. ‘No.’ ‘It’s a device to communicate with the world of

spirits, a board on which alphabets and numerals are written. A coin or a bottle cap is placed on it,’ I revealed.

‘Then?’

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‘Then we have to concentrate hard and enchant some verses to request the soul to enter that coin/cap. After that we start the viva voce with spirits and they answer by moving the coin/cap.’

‘Really, can it move by itself?’ ‘Yeah! But we need to keep our fingers on it to

keep it under control. Otherwise the soul gets out and the place becomes haunted forever…’

Preet gulped. A knock on the door scared us both. Preet

stood up in slow motion to open the door. ‘Why so serious?’ Saahil asked. ‘Einstein and Newton were discussing about

relativity and gravity,’ Johny commented. ‘Akash knows how to communicate with the

souls of dead,’ Preet blurted out. ‘Really?’ Saahil asked in suspicion. Nikhil entered my room at that juncture. ‘I don’t believe in such things. Oh, come on!

We are science students,’ Johny said. ‘Done!’ Saahil wanted to mock me. He didn’t

believe in it and so he wanted to prove me wrong. Nikhil was interested in doing something Out

Of Course, not only with respect to Gurukul but also to the real world. The deadly game commenced as we enchanted some lines to call the spirit.

‘Are you there?’ I asked to confirm its presence.

Our fingers moved along with the coin to answer YES. Many were skeptical about the reason for such a motion of the coin. All believed

K.O.T.A 143

that I was the external force producing agent. But I could never prove that it wasn’t me.

Then we asked a series of questions regarding past and future. Saahil was laughing during the entire procession. Finally we requested the soul to go back. As soon as the soul left the board, the lights went off. Everyone was scared because of the back to back timing of those incidents. Even worse was in store.

A call on our landline phone. ‘It’s an STD call. The ringtone suggests that,’

Saahil said. ‘Hello!’ I picked up the call. There was no

answer from the other end. It was scary. I passed the receiver to Preet. It was a blank call that made our expressions become blank. The receiver was put back to its initial state. Another call on it, again no answer.

A total of 17 calls came that night. All consecutive, all STD and all blank, just after that Planchette event. We had no answer to that Paranormal Activity.

‘Who would call 17 times on an STD number and leave it blank for such a long time?’ Preet was still clueless.

‘My birthday is on 17th October. Has it got something to do with it?’ Johny was then scared. It was still a black out. Usually lights didn’t go off in Kota, especially at that hour of the day. Everything was happening for the first time.

Johny ran away in fear. When electricity came back we felt relaxed. After that horrifying experience we had something to cheer about- the New Year Party by Gurukul.

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MISS GURUKUL

Preet, Saahil, Nikhil, Plumbum, Johny, Begi, Nilesh and I were all set. Landlord was the most scared creature on the planet to watch us march.

‘Some exam?’ he asked in suspicion. ‘New year party,’ I said with a smile. And then

we slipped away from his grip. We had all kinds of friends including

shopkeepers, Pohawalas, nightwatchman, auto drivers, Gundey etc who made our life easy and smooth. We usually hired Salim Bhai’s auto and were again in it that day.

‘Did you rent the camera from Neetu Photo Studio?’ I asked Plumbum.

‘Yes!’ he answered. ‘What about the rolls?’ ‘I have it. Who’s going to take the risk of

taking the pictures of Smita?’ I asked. One hand got raised. It was of Nilesh. ‘Actually, I could have taken the pictures but I

don’t want her to misunderstand me. I want them by hook or by crook. How would I live without her image when she goes back to Lucknow?’

‘Romeo, just pray that your Juliet attends the function. Many students are appearing for FARJEE (another institute) mock test today,’ Saahil said, patting my back.

‘My sixth sense says she will definitely come,’ I said confidently.

We reached Kalyani Park, where the event was being organized. DJs were warming up. As usual the front rows were reserved for VIPs, teachers

K.O.T.A 145

and girls. We were backbenchers again. There I met Arpit. I met him after a long time as I had no intentions of disturbing him. I thought my sixth sense failed that time but patience always pays.

‘Here she comes!’ Nikhil exclaimed. Smita heralded the function, as if she was the

chief guest. The event was well organized. For the first time I saw those teachers singing and dancing, who used to be strict and scary. Then Housie began. Tickets were of 10 Rupees each. I never won any prize in that game. That day Smita won the most unlucky coupon award. It was then the perfect time for Nilesh to take her pictures while she was receiving the award from Tayal Sir.

Some skits made us laugh and smile. Finally, it was time for lunch. By then the prize ceremony started. A long Q at the food stall pestered me. I was then busy, eating. I saw a dog wagging its tail. I gave it some pieces of Paneer (cottage cheese) from my plate.

Sudhanshu Asrani bagged the best male student performer and Nibha Gupta the best female counterpart. It was then the time to declare Miss Gurukul.

‘Smita Madaan,’ Tayal Sir announced. I kept my plate down and started clapping. ‘You are always Miss Gurukulite for me,’ I

said. As I bent down to take my plate back, it was

nowhere to be seen. Gone in 60 seconds! My eyes stared at that dog in suspicion. It was still wagging its tail to defend itself of all charges.

No! Not again in that long Q!

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I had no other choice as I was very hungry. The event ended successfully. We took some group photos when I saw Smita standing alone. I walked toward her.

‘Congratulations Smita!’ I said. She looked at me as if she never knew me. Many said she developed much attitude that day. I thought it better to leave then. I soon got her photo developed and kept it in my wallet. That photo was just the beginning. I was to get much more in coming days.

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51

THE SOCIAL NETWORK

7th COL-You spy the smallest details about your crush. I was desperate to know her birthdate and so I

visited Gurukul’s website. I knew her Gurukul roll number and her father’s name already. One more thing was needed to be entered to access her results- her birthdate. I had an intuition that she was a Geminian and I entered dates close to my birthdate.

May 29- No record found. May 28- No record found. May 27- No record found. May 26- No record found. May 25- No record found. May 24- No record found. May 23- No record found. May 22- Mission accomplished. Her exam

results got displayed. That was her birth date. Two days later I was chatting on Yahoo messenger when

somebody pinged. He was Ravi, the one who ran behind me yelling HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

‘Hi Ravi! Nic 2 c u on Yahoo,’ I wrote in a flash.

‘Congos! Ur gal wn 2 awrds. Do u knw her Yahoo id?’ he said, as if he was maintaining the database of Yahoo ids.

‘No! Do u hav it?’ ‘Cpy it. Smita_07@yahoo.com,’ he wrote to

quench my thirst of getting it. ‘Bt hw did u gt it?’

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‘She ws chattin @ BNB,’ he wrote. ‘My frndz too wr thr 4 sum fotocpy wrk. They stelthly saw her id frm d bck. U knw we luv huntin info of gals n spreading it.’

‘Thnk u. I wld nvr frgt ur favr.’ ‘Thnks won’t do. I need a tr8. Wen n whr shld

I cum?’ ‘U hav 2 decide. It’s ur tr8,’ I said in a true

gentleman spirit. ‘K! Wheatos, 6 P.M. 2mrw.’ ‘Nt Wheatos. Annpurna Rstrnt.’ ‘K. I’ll b thr. Ciao.’ ‘K. Bie. C ya,’ I ended the chat. A week later ‘I got some useful info for you,’ Anish said

while I was still immersed in my APQs. ‘Keep this page. It has the phone number and the address.’

‘Whom does these belong to?’ I inquired. ‘Smita. Don’t you know her?’ ‘What? How? When?’ I asked, jumping from

my chair. Sudden surprises are mothers of many questions.

‘Actually I had a contact inside the data management department of Gurukul. He knew me well as he is my family friend. I discussed your case with him and he was ready to help for the sake of your love,’ he said.

‘I don’t have words to thank you,’ I said and hugged him.

‘It’s time to leave,’ he announced. Two days later ‘Look Akash! An awesome thing is waiting for

you,’ Johny’s words compelled me to open the door.

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‘What? Something to eat?’ I asked, as I was hungry.

‘Roll number of Smita,’ he said. ‘What? I thought… but how?’ I was finding it

hard to express myself. ‘Note it down. You can keep a track of her,’ he

said, clearing his throat. ‘Did any of her friends reveal this number to

you?’ I inquired. ‘Actually I met our sexy class teacher to clear

some doubt. Suddenly, it came to my mind that I should take Smita’s roll number as it might be of some help to you. So I requested her for help. I said that she was my strongest competitor and so I wished to know her scores. And for that, a roll number is a must,’ he said. ‘Initially she resisted but when I insisted, she acquiesced. She was actually impressed by my chocolaty face.’

‘I’m so proud to have selfless friends like you,’ I said.

‘Anything for a friend like you,’ he said and smiled.

I never forced my friends but they got all that info for love to prosper.

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FINALLY A POET

‘Wow! That’s great.’ Anish was at an excited level while I was still on the ground level. ‘I’m sure you are going to do something filmy on this occasion too.’

‘I’m thinking of some unconventional way to wish her a Happy Birthday,’ I said.

I took out a blank A4 sheet and started penning down a poem. It’s a fact that if you have a certain feeling creeping inside your heart then it catalyzes your reaction to write better and fast.

Smita’s birthday was two months away. But I got an intuition that she would be leaving for her native place after giving her 12th board exams. It was a combo package for me- her birthday, 12th board exams and Holi. One card was enough to do away with all three.

‘Mr. Poet. Catch you later. I am sure that girls like poems dedicated to them.’

Anish was right. Generally girls wish to have one from someone. Assuming Smita to fall under that general case, I launched my imagination to frame my first poem.

A few hours later ‘Are you done with your poem?’ Anish was so desperate that he read it aloud in

excitement. It comes in a year on one special day, When cakes get ready with candles to play. An opportunity to ask in a cunning way, ‘What’s your age Miss, by the way?’

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This poem is just an excuse to say, Many many happy returns of the day. I fold my hands before God to pray, To give you a long life for study and play. Then comes another day to play, With colors and varnishes on display. Sweets and Namkeens fill the tray, ‘Holi Hai’ is all I wanna say. Finally comes the dreaded exam, 12th board its name, Aaram is now Haraam. All the best to you, I pray to lord Ram, That you work wonders by your charm. That was my first poem. I got ready to post it

to her address. ‘You look handsome today. You should deliver

her the card in person,’ Anish suggested. I was in no way going to that girls hostel. I

placed the card in an envelope and sealed it with my love. Anish showed his thumbs up to wish me best of luck. I got the card couriered to her address. I was to get a receipt slip, which confirmed that she received the card.

A week later I got the receipt. I found her signature on it.

Her turbid signature confirmed that it was her handwriting and more importantly, that she received the card. I couldn’t see her expressions though. Assuming that Smita was one of those girls who loved poetic boys, I thought she would have felt nice.

Love made me a poet that I never was. It soon made me do something that I never did before.

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53

MAHASHIVRATRI

According to Wikipedia- MahaShivratri or MahaSivaratri (Great Night of Shiva) is the festival celebrating the marriage of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati that infuses the spirit of devotion and dedication among Hindus. It’s principally celebrated by offerings of Bael (Bilva) leaves to Lord Shiva, all day fasting and an all night long vigil.

A day before Mahashivratri ‘Do you know about love percent?’ Preet

asked. I was solving Math BTH, sitting on my study

chair. My study table had to bear the weight of many sumo books like A Das Gupta, R.C. Sharma and my fair register. I kept pictures of Smita as bookmarks in them. Preet was sitting on my bed.

‘Yeah! That silly game, which usually girls play,’ I replied.

‘Do you know about your love percent with Smita?’ Preet inquired.

‘I don’t believe in it.’ ‘Let’s try it out. Just for fun,’ Preet proposed. He borrowed my pen and also my time to

numerically solve my love coefficient with respect to Smita. He tore one paper from my fair register before I could explain him that it was not meant for scribbling. I thought he took a fair page to obtain fair results. He took all details from me and started calculating.

AKASH+SMITA

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The results were out. 83%. Not bad. Then he winked and started

calculating- SHIVA+PARVATI English makes RAM-RAMA, KRISHN-

KRISHNA and SHIV-SHIVA. So I did doubt such name games.

Again 83%. He congratulated me. ‘Do you know tomorrow is Shivratri?’ Preet

asked. I shrugged. Gurukul had no holiday the next

day. ‘It’s believed that if you keep a fast on Shivratri

you get a nice partner,’ Preet said. ‘Should I keep a fast for Smita?’ I asked. ‘It’s upon your will. I’m going to keep a fast as

I can have one liter of milk and plenty of fruits. I end up eating more than usual.’

‘It would be a nice idea to keep a fast for her long life and success, just because I love her so much,’ I said with a glitter in my eyes.

‘Done! There’s good news, only one class tomorrow due to Shivratri,’ Preet said.

We soon found that Saahil and Nikhil were also keeping a fast.

* March 8, 2005

Mahashivratri We all had an early morning class. While returning back we halted at a fruit center and bought apples at Rs 35/kg in Desi haggler style. When we were about to leave, two hot girls arrived on a Scooty. They were novice in bargaining and were elated to

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get apples at Rs 45/kg. We were then confirmed of the practicality of Girl’s equation.

퐵푒푎푢푡푦 ∗ 퐴푣푎푖푙푎푏푖푙푖푡푦 ⋉1

퐵푅퐴퐼푁

We came back with lots of fruits and milk. But since Smita was there in my mind frame, I wanted to make it a real fast. For the whole day I was on one glass of milk and an apple. 5th COL- It’s spiritual and much more than lust.

Ratri (night) of Shivratri I took out my wallet to have a quick glance at

Smita’s picture. I kept it below my pillow and went for a short nap.

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54

SHE’S GOT THE LOOK

Early morning class I loathed getting up so early in the morning. I

rushed to the classroom. Sleep deprived, my eyes resisted brain’s order to remain open. But a ride on my bicycle to Gurukul demanded more from the rebel eyes. Finally my eyes were half open as they bargained sleep from my brain. I was looking like a Chinese tourist with my bag and my looks. I reached Gurukul to find it empty.

‘What the…’ I was about to complete it when a familiar voice interrupted me.

‘Akash, follow me,’ Saahil commanded. ‘Is everything fine?’ I asked. ‘Actually Tayal Sir has organized a surprise

party today.’ ‘Seriously?’ I was elated. ‘Just don’t ask why,’ Saahil said. I had no other choice save to follow him. We

hired an auto and went straight to Chambal garden. There I found many familiar faces including my own batchmates.

‘I’ll join you later,’ Saahil said and departed. ‘Akash, I have a seat reserved for you,’ Preet

offered. ‘Thanks!’ I said. ‘What’s going on?’ ‘A photo session.’ ‘What for?’ ‘To store the memories of Gurukul in the hard

disk of our life,’ he explained. ‘I’m so happy,’ I said.

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‘For what?’ ‘Another picture of Smita. Yes! God, please

make her sit close to me,’ I prayed. There was an audi in which the photo session

was being conducted and the students were not seated batchwise (for a change), which I felt nice. The photographer was able to see one and all. It was quite doubtful that he would be able to capture all in one picture.

Saahil joined us for the photo session. ‘Am I looking nice?’ I asked, running my

fingers through my hairs. ‘Awesome and gorgeous,’ Saahil replied. ‘Look!’ I exclaimed, ‘here she comes.’ In strawberry pink Salwar Kurta, she looked

like a perfect angel, just the magic wand missing from her fairy attire. But the magic she created upon me made her a real angel. It required no wand to make such magical bond. She was accompanied by her batchmates. I was admiring her beauty and then… her eyes were directed right upon me.

Shit! What would she be thinking of me? Am I just like those boys who do eves tease?

My eyes were down with fear. But why should I fear? Is it wrong to admire beautiful

girls? Finally when I dared to raise my eyes, I saw

Smita sitting right in front of my seat with her long hairs kept open as an icon of freedom. Just then the breeze made her hair fall slightly on my face and the Sunsilk attar of her hair was anodyne.

Alarm rang at 7 A.M. I couldn’t believe it! I was on my bed in the swimming pool of books.

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No photo session? God was a real killjoy, so was the alarm. After a full day on fast, life became slow for me and not fast, due to lack of energy.

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55

SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE

A research claims that our dreams are black and white. But Smita’s Salwar Kurta was strawberry pink. I saw it. Love really makes anything possible/colorful.

Night Tayal Sir always advocated that one must have

a sound sleep and a good breakfast before attending morning classes. But I did just the reverse. I fell on my bed for another nap. It was already 4 A.M. Time when many Gurukulites woke up. Time when many more like me slept.

I was again in my dream world. My classes again got postponed and I was in the audi of Chambal garden. There were two sets of students- L batch, occupying the front seats and M batch, sitting at the back of the audi. There were a few pillars in between, basically for decoration purpose.

No N batch student was seen except one. I was hunting for my batchmates and ignorantly entered the audi. I was a Trojan for the set up as I entered from the back door. And then I saw her.

Smita was clad in a green Salwar Kurta that reminded me of that Girl In Green. She was a cheese and I was a hungry mouse. She was sitting two rows from the back and I was hiding behind one of the pillars.

‘What are you doing here?’ Keeda asked. ‘Didn’t you see the board outside?’

‘No! What’s written on it?’ I ventured.

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‘Dogs and N batch students are not allowed,’ he said with a big smile.

Applause! The whole hall was clapping as if Keeda raised a slogan of national importance.

‘What’s going on?’ I inquired. ‘A quiz competition is being held for L and M

batch students. No N batch student is permitted to play the game. They are asked to prepare for the exams. So I think you better leave.’

It was a warning from Keeda. But how could I leave an opportunity to see Smita? I was behind the pillars, out of the field of view of Tayal Sir. He was the quiz master. He was asking high level GK questions but still there were many students with answers for them.

I was gazing at Smita and at one silly moment, I opened my arms and walked straight toward my cheese i.e. Smita. And then I was in his field of view.

‘Who’s standing beside that pillar? What’s your batch?’ Tayal Sir yelled.

I was still thinking it to be a quiz question. ‘Sir, he’s of N batch,’ Keeda shouted from his

seat. I would have killed Keeda just like an insect.

But every dog has its day and that day, it was my turn.

‘Interesting! How’s your GK?’ Tayal Sir taunted.

Smita was then looking at me. It was a matter of prestige and so I said something I was not supposed to.

‘Sir, I do suck at my Gurukul exams but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a good GK. You must

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not discriminate between N batches and other batches. We can prove you wrong.’

‘So let me ask you a very easy GK question. How many students are there in N batches? You would be well aware of it.’

I then realized that GK was always misinterpreted as General Knowledge. It never was general.

‘According to my calculation it’s 660.’ ‘Are you sure?’ ‘I’m confident.’ I was trying to impress Smita. ‘I expel some students and few leave Gurukul

on their own accord. So I guess you are wrong. The answer can be 660 10.’

I sucked at Math and that was a proof of it. Smita was still looking at me. A few security guards came to throw me out like a dog. I was throwing my hands and legs in resentment.

And then I found myself struggling on my bed. It was a nightmare and again I wasn’t able to impress Smita, my Dream Girl.

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56

DREAMGIRL

Another combined class. I thought it was the last opportunity to

impress her. I had a good sense of humor that could have acted as a weapon to kill her silence toward my love. I started cracking jokes while sitting near G spot.

‘Akash, you are so funny,’ girls complemented. But she didn’t laugh at all. She knew I was

trying to impress her. ‘Female of every species is more dangerous.

Take the case of Anopheles mosquito. It can gift you with Malaria.’ It was my last fire.

And it hit the target. Smita smiled. Soon her smile converted into laughter.

‘I made you laugh. Can we be friends now?’ I said immediately.

Smita raised her brows. She was about to say something.

‘Could you please do me a favor?’ I asked. ‘What can I do for you?’ she asked. ‘I wish to say something that’s stored in my

heart since a long time.’ ‘Say it,’ she whispered. It was getting romantic. All girls held their

breath. ‘Is it going to be an I LOVE YOU?’ they kept

wondering. ‘Can you come with me?’ I asked.

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‘Where?’ ‘To my room?’ ‘For?’ ‘For playing cards…’ All girls including Smita would have definitely

cursed me for being a killjoy after creating such a romantic atmosphere. Some habits of your friends can have ill effects upon your dreams like the card playing activity of Saahil and gang. Smita burst into laughter. She nodded.

A few hours later, in my room Saahil, Preet, Plumbum, Nikhil, Johny, Nilesh

and I sat in a row. Our girl friends were sitting facing us.

Smita was looking sweet and beautiful. She always wore a heart killing smile on her countenance. Malini was sitting in front of Nikhil. We were playing flush card game and…

Alarm broke my sleep again. But that time I was happy. I ran immediately to Nikhil’s room to narrate the hat trick dream. I told about Malini.

‘How did she look?’ he asked. ‘I don’t remember exactly,’ I replied. Saahil

again wore his peculiar grin on hearing about it. ‘Now you have started dreaming about our

girlfriends too? Bad manners! Bhabhi maa ke samaan hoti hai (Sister in law is like your mom),’ Saahil preached.

I smiled and went back to my room to resume my pending work. But those dreams compelled me to sing-

“Kahin to milegi, Kabhi to milegi, Aaj nahin to kal...DreamGirl” (Sometime, somewhere, I’ll get my dreamgirl.)

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57

MATRIMONY CLASS

‘Hello everyone! My name is Anjali Verma.’ Anjali ma’am coached Gurukulites in English.

There was a coaching for everything, even for the practical exams of board exams. Board exam coaching was usually an excuse to be in touch with a subject especially for those who never took any effort to study on their own.

‘We are here to learn English for 12th board exams,’ she continued.

She was in her mid thirties. She was round but cute. She had much make up done. She had a strong affiliation with Gurukul. Her promos hit every notice board of Gurukul. She had a hypnotic effect and so exceptional students filled the class. But I was an exceptional case. I was a below average Gurukulite with an above average English there.

The only bad thing for boys there was the absence of girls, creating a gayish atmosphere.

‘So today we’ll learn about advertisement writing. Marketing of a thing involves advertising it in a way that even dung can be sold at the price of gold.’

A mobile phone rang to its max, interrupting the free flow of the class. All eyes were transfixed at the owner of that phone, who was cursing it for ringing at the wrong place and at the wrong time.

‘Girlfriend? After the class gets over, you can meet her. But for now, concentrate here,’ she said.

‘It was from my mom!’ he whispered.

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‘Hey guys! I know you miss girls here. But what can I do? Be patient. You can meet them later,’ she said.

She was too frank with us. She gave us a weird homework that day. We were asked to write matrimonial proposals considering ourselves to be bridegrooms. Saahil was excited to draft a proposal, as if he was waiting for days for that homework. I had only one girl going on in my mind.

Next day We were asked to blurt out our proposals in

front of the whole class. Many were shy, still they gave it a try. It was then my turn.

‘Ma’am, it’s a weird proposal. Hope I won’t disappoint you.

For a nerd who’s looking for an early bird. A 5 feet 3 inch tall, beautiful girl required. Lucknow girls preferred. Should be homely that won’t make one feel lonely. Should be a Gurukulite and must be very bright. Should wear specs. Her name must begin with S and end with A. Caste no bar. Age 17 years. Should be a Geminian made for another Geminian.’

Everyone had a laugh as it was too specific. ‘I think you wrote the proposal for someone

you know quite well,’ Madam winked. Then came Saahil’s turn. He started with the

following words- For a guy who’s not shy to make a tie with some girl

hi-fi. A tall, beautiful and intelligent chick required. Should know how to turn on a guy. Should be good at bed. Caste no bar, age no bar, color no bar, nationality no bar, ex husbands no bar.

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The whole class was laughing like never before. Madam was stunned.

‘Are you serious?’ she asked. ‘Yes, I think proposals must be straight

forward.’ Saahil felt pride over his work. When we came back to our rooms we had a

light chat. ‘So your proposal was for Smita? I think you

must forward a copy of it to her,’ Saahil suggested. ‘I’m not sure of her reaction over my proposal.

But I’m sure she will be dumb after reading yours.’ ‘Our English class has got a nickname now,’ he

said. ‘And what’s that?’ ‘Matrimony class.’ Anjali ma’am brought color into our black and

white schedule and more color was yet to come.

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58

HOLI HAI!

March 25, 2005 A knock at my door made me shun the

comfort of my fluffy bed. ‘Happy Holi Akash! Let’s go to Nilesh’s room.

Make it fast,’ Johny said. ‘Happy Holi! What’s the program?’ I asked. ‘Let’s pick up Nilesh from his room and then

play Holi with faculty members,’ he proposed. ‘Sounds great! Just wait for a few seconds. I’ll

be right back,’ I said. The same message was passed to Nikhil, Saahil

and Preet. Holi is a festival of colors that demands you to

be dressed in a disheveled state. On our way we met some young chaps who greeted us a Happy Holi. They then asked us a strange favor.

‘Can we tear your shirt? Please!’ We understood their intentions and paced up

but unfortunately, the end of my T-shirt got caught into the hands of the young mob and Chirr. It was converted into a two piece. Only its part covering my shoulders was joined. It gave me a look of a superhero as the back of my T-shirt was converted into a robe.

Soon we were at Nilesh’s where we played dry Holi. Only a fraction of my face was not colored, which forced Preet to announce-‘Hey! You are still clear. Let me spoil your face.’

I didn’t like the idea. But I took out my specs and humbly surrendered by placing my face

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forward and closing my eyes. And then many hands full of color competed to spoil my face to the max. Competition everywhere!

Our group was led by Johny. First we went to Gurukul and played Holi with all our gurus (teachers). We also touched their feet to get their blessings for IIT-JEE. Then we headed toward a quite familiar place as it looked to me. It was Smita’s hostel.

‘Come out girls. If you have guts then let’s play Holi,’ Saahil screamed.

Some girls came out, Smita being one of them. And soon many water filled balloons were fired upon them. One of them hit Smita and she screamed.

‘Run!’ I exclaimed. That word was for me but the whole group

started running. The girls were shouting. What else could they have done?

Bura Na Mano, Holi hai! (Don’t feel bad. It’s Holi!)

We halted at AG’s house. There we met his child, about three years old.

‘What’s Newton’s first law, baby?’ Johny asked. We all smiled. The baby too smiled, as if he

knew the answer. After Physics Holi, we planned to attack SP.

When we entered his house, there was a pin drop silence.

‘No one’s there. Let’s go back,’ Plumbum said. We were about to leave when Johny shouted-

‘He’s here, stealthily looking at us.’ We all ran to attack him with colors. He locked

himself inside.

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‘Promise me that you won’t play wet Holi,’ he demanded.

‘We promise you, Sir. Just come out, please,’ we all said in unison.

He came out and one by one, we all colored his face with Gulaal (dry color). We took some pictures with him and then we bid him good bye. We then saw a group of bikers coming toward us.

‘Let’s hit them with water filled balloons,’ Nilesh proposed.

I was about to stop him when he let loose a balloon on one of the bikes. Four hale youngsters were sitting on that bike. The balloon hit the third person from the front and he got disbalanced. The center of gravity of the bike system shifted and then-

Husha, Busha, they all fall down. Nilesh started sprinting to save his ass. They

got up and showed their middle fingers to him. That’s the best thing about Holi. Nobody fights on this day.

Finally we headed back to 1-PA-90. Saahil, Nikhil and I hugged each other to forget all past spats. Before leaving, Nilesh hugged me to greet and then- Chirr. He tore my T-shirt fully into two pieces. I was about to protest when Nilesh shouted-

‘Bura Na Mano, Holi hai!’ Playing Holi was fun. But a torture soon came

to end it all.

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59

PHYSICAL EDUCATION

PE. Not Potential Energy, but Physical Education-

an optional subject for Biology and Hindi in our CBSE curriculum.

I was at Lodhi Public School to pick up my admit card for 12th board exams. Two young girls, who were supposedly my teachers, were distributing those admit cards. One of them attended me.

‘Can you tell me your Roll number please?’ she asked and then she smiled. The beauty index of girls generally rises while smiling. I uttered my roll number and got my admit card through her delicate hands.

‘All the best!’ the other beautiful lass wished. A warm smile followed that sentence. I was sure that she was paid for that one sentence and for that one killer smile.

I strolled toward the notice board. There I found that Physical Education Practical exam was on the very next day. I carefully noted down all other dates as well and returned to my room.

‘Physical Education Practical?’ Preet asked. He was still unaware of the exam dates.

‘No tension. Practicals don’t require a warm up,’ Saahil said in a relaxed mood.

‘But we should study at least something to face the viva bullets,’ I suggested.

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‘Don’t worry. If they ask you about your favorite sport just yell Cricket. After all we are cricket freaks, right?’

That suggestion from Saahil boosted me up to face the exam even without studying a single word.

Physical Education Practical Exam, 2005 Nilesh and I were all set for a 100 meters

sprint. I never knew he was in my school till that day.

‘On your marks, get set, Go! That Go reminded me of Counter Strike game. Go, Go, Go… I was the fastest horse on the track till 80

meters mark. Last 20 meters. A boy ran in a motion similar

to a free style swimming and fluid dynamics supported him to get past me. Everything was over. I finished second.

Then we competed in many more games like shot put, disc throw, long jump etc. The final event was a fifteen minute race in which the max number of rounds completed in fifteen minutes was the winning criteria.

‘I must win it for Smita if I really love her,’ I challenged myself.

The blowing of a whistle heralded the dawn of my dream run. To fight fatigue I imagined virtual Smita, standing at the end of each lap point. She looked even more beautiful. She kept her arms wide open to hug me. And then I ran like a loony to hug her. She then shifted to the next lap point. Beads of sweat danced all over my body to produce a tickling effect.

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End of the race. I won both- race and my own challenge. The disease of love makes you fight with self. It was then my turn for the viva round.

‘Which famous batsman’s catch did Jonty Rhodes take to win kudos as the greatest fielder in Cricket?’ a young teacher asked.

‘Sachin Tendulkar,’ I replied. ‘And whom did he get run out in 1992-93?’ he

quizzed. My guess was Inzamam-ul-Haq but I shook

my head to convey him that I was not a Wikipedia page on Jonty Rhodes.

The exam got over. I brought home the fact that Physical Education was both a physical and mental torture. Cricket wasn’t going to leave me as I soon discovered its new format.

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60

INDOOR CRICKET ‘Indoor cricket!’ Preet proposed. ‘Let’s play,’ Saahil said. Indoor cricket- whose rules were framed not

by ICC (International Cricket Council) but by common people like us. The best part of it was one tip one hand out. If a fielder catches the ball after one bounce single handedly it’s declared out.

Johny, Plumbum and Nilesh too joined to show their mettle. Saahil used to be the best batsman amongst us all. The only way to dismiss him was by luck or when he intended to. I used to be the best fielder and was very much inspired by Jonty Rhodes. I always dived to make my fielding or catches look spectacular.

The funniest part of the game was the entry of the landlord when everyone disappeared. Indoor cricket then transformed into Hide and Seek. Bathroom was the best hiding place. Some even opened the tap in it to get into the character. And then he used to attack soft targets like me and SB.

That day we played for long, yet no signs of landlord were traced. I bowled to Nilesh and he swinged his bat with max power. My bowl was too fast and that shot from Nilesh gave it even more momentum. And then a blast. The ball directly hit the right eye of Preet. It hit like a bullet and Preet fell down. Everything took place in a flash. A black out occurred in the powerhouse of Preet’s eye. He ran toward his room.

‘Should we take you to a doctor?’ Nilesh asked, showing concern.

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‘No! It’s okay! I would join you guys later. You guys carry on,’ Preet lay on his bed with his right hand covering his affected eye. Tears were coming out from his eyes. It forced us to cancel our plans to resume the match.

‘Wash your eyes with water,’ Saahil suggested. ‘No! Take a handkerchief and pump air into it

from your mouth. Put it on your eyes. You would get some relief,’ Johny advised.

Nilesh and I were silent. Sometimes pretty fun turns into ugly fear. I was feeling guilty of my crime. He was just a child, far away from his parents. Soon our landlord arrived on getting the news of that unpleasant incident.

‘I’m taking him to the doctor,’ he said. Something pushed me from inside to join him. ‘I am also coming,’ I said. Few minutes later We were at an eye clinic. Preet was contorting

in pain. He was seriously hurt. We were waiting for the doctor to arrive. It was the wee hour of the night and so we were skeptical for his arrival. But like a magnanimous gentleman, Dr. Vinod presented himself as a present for Preet.

‘Dr. Saahab! Help this kid. He got hit on his eye by a cricket ball,’ our landlord said.

‘Compounder, get a torch and some distilled water,’ doctor commanded.

Compounder compounded the data into his brain box and acted accordingly. I thought that the only other interest that Compounder had was –Compound interest.

Preet was in grief and so was I. It was my fault after all; to bowl and give him a wound so foul.

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When compounder returned, Dr. Vinod asked Preet to lie on a stretcher kept in the clinic. Doctor then poured the distilled water into his eyes that made him dance awkwardly. Compounder clamped his body tightly. He was crying in pain and that melted my heart. It was then I realized the true meaning of friendship. I felt his pain. I cried with him, from my heart.

Doctor conducted some tests. Then he took out a slip and started with an Rx. Just the letter ‘D’ would have made its meaning much more explosive- RDx. He then gave a prescription along with the name of medicines mentioned on that slip.

‘Blood vessels near retina have ruptured. He won’t be able to see clearly for a week. He requires special attention. Please give him these medicines timely.’

‘Thank you Uncle,’ Preet said in a childish tone.

‘Take care son,’ Dr. Vinod replied. We came back. I told everyone about Dr.

Vinod’s advice. We all decided to admit Preet in our ICU. Preet recovered not only by the medicines but also by the love doses he got from all.

Two days after Preet’s recovery Nilesh took a bat in his hands and threw the

ball toward me. ‘Ready for another match?’ I refused his proposal to avoid more accidents.

But Kota wasn’t able to avoid accidents commonly known as Scandals.

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61

SCANDALS OF KOTA

‘Guys, do you know what happened today?’ Preet said.

Plumbum, Saahil, Nikhil and Johny were accompanying me in my room.

‘What happened?’ I inquired, leafing through HCV.

‘Four boys of Gurukul killed an old man who was a taxi driver. They first hired his taxi. They halted at a Dhaba and then…,’ Preet said and then paused to clear his throat. ‘One of them hit him on his head, killing him on the spot. They did all this to sell that taxi and get some bucks. One of them was innocent. He didn’t know about his friends motives. Police is hunting for them desperately.’

‘How can they do such a crap after being brilliant students of Gurukul?’ I asked peevishly.

‘Gurukul can’t peek into the personal life of each and every Gurukulite. Nobody knows what’s on your mind,’ Plumbum answered.

‘Every golden book has some black pages in it,’ Saahil said.

‘Remember what Nikhil’s friends did?’ Preet reminded of another big scandal.

‘They stole a whooping 174 liters of petrol from three petrol pumps and then tried to hack ATM centers. If that night watchman Ramlal wouldn’t have got hold of them, all ATM centers of Kota would have been empty,’ Nikhil elaborated.

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‘All this for their stupid girlfriends,’ Preet said. ‘Beware Akash! Don’t get into any such

scandal for Smita,’ Saahil warned. ‘You know me well,’ I defended. ‘Another incident took place recently,’

Plumbum said, exciting every one of us. ‘A girl was riding her bicycle when two boys followed her on a bike. There was a small gap between her hips and the bicycle seat. The boy sitting at the back seat of the bike noticed it and fingered her through that gap. The girl jumped out of her seat. The boys skipped from the site passing vulgar comments.’

‘Two days back even worse incident took place,’ Saahil said, taking a deep breath. ‘Two boys on a motorcycle came near a girl. One of them jumped down and did the unexpected.’

‘What did he do?’ I asked. ‘He pressed her boobs and within seconds, he

was gone. His reaction time was faster than that of the girl. When she screamed, he was nowhere to be seen,’ Saahil said.

‘These guys lower the image of the whole male community. They must be hanged for killing the respect that girls have for boys. We are not like them, but are supposed to be one of them,’ I grunted.

‘Kota has become unsafe for girls now. But still, I suggest that talented girls should keep coming. We are ready to fight for their cause,’ Preet advocated.

I was worried about Smita. I would have killed that person who even tried to touch her. 2nd COL- You become possessive about your crush.

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‘Scandals won’t end as good results too. And we promise Gurukul that we’ll deliver our best in the coming SCREENINGS and Board exams to maintain its fame,’ Saahil shouted.

‘Hail Gurukul!’ we all yelled.

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62

BOARDS-2005

Boards. A term that overburdened the student

community of the nation and decided fates of many. There was a rumor in Gurukul that an L-1 batch student cleared IIT-JEE but failed in English in boards. So he lost his eligibility to appear for the counseling that followed.

We were aware of such consequences. Only those students who secured 80% or more in Physics, Chemistry and Math in boards were eligible for BITS exam. BITS is another prestigious institute known for its academic excellence. So we were not in a mood to take any chances.

Lakshya and I were both from Lodhi Public School and had same exam center for boards, which was 16 kilometers away. He had a moped and he drove me home many times when my bicycle used to get out of order. I requested him to take me on his moped on exam days. He was very humble and was always there to pick me.

Once after a Gurukul test, I asked Lakshya to follow a Scooty. I didn’t know the driver of the Scooty but I very well knew the one on the backseat- Smita. I asked him to race his moped and give a cut to that Scooty to intimidate her. She was my foe then. I still remember how I got that memento out of Smita’s answr sheet of that same test.

It was then Math exam of boards. I didn’t perform well. Students usually aim for a cent

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percent score in it but my attempt was of 80 marks. I was crestfallen. That was not the end to my misery.

We were not even three kilometers away from the exam hall back home when the tires deflated. It not only led to the wastage of time and money but also made us suffer the heat strokes of the sun overhead.

When I reached my room, I had a look at Smita’s picture. Tears came out of my eyes. But I didn’t let that failure overpower my ambition. I gave the rest of my papers with full vigor and wrote well.

It was an answer to all those who thought Smita to be the cause of my ruin. Inspiration can never put you down. But the real test was yet to come to challenge it.

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63

SCREENINGS-2005

After two years of intense preparation in the best coaching center of India for IIT-JEE, it was time to perform.

SCREENINGS- the objective prelims of IIT-JEE. A format built to screen majority of the aspirants, from two lakhs (two hundred thousands) to a mere 15,000, who would then compete for MAINS, a written subjective test.

Preet, Saahil, Johny and I had opted for Kota center. We were allotted different schools as exam centers. My room was kept reserved for all important discussions. That time the topic of discussion was the most awaited screenings. I was on my study chair while Johny and Preet were lounging on my bed. Saahil, Nilesh and Nikhil were leaning on my room’s wall. Plumbum and Begi had already left Kota as they had opted for their hometown as exam center.

‘Time passes by so quickly. I feel as if tomorrow again there’s a class, as if it’s just a beginning,’ Saahil said.

We all nodded. ‘Let’s have a group photo,’ Johny suggested. ‘Great idea! I think we all are photogenic

enough and no further make up is required. Let’s go to Neetu Photo Studio,’ I said.

10 minutes later ‘Nilesh, stop behaving like a kid! Don’t make

horns above my head by your fingers,’ Preet

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grumbled. But Nilesh wasn’t going to give up so easily.

‘Say cheese!’ Photographer shouted to screen every other noise.

We all ‘cheesed’ to display all our teeth. Nilesh managed to represent horns of Preet. We wished each other All The Best in all possible permutations and combinations, which gave us a better feel of that subject.

Nilesh opted for Delhi center. We gave him a nice farewell by giving him sweet boxes for his journey to Delhi.

4th April, 2005 Screenings, IIT-JEE, Kota center It was one of those days when auto drivers

charged exorbitant rates and were quite busy. I was fortunate to have Salim Bhai as my friend. He dropped me at the center where I saw the huge crowd of anxious aspirants of IIT-JEE. I took out my wallet and saw Smita’s picture. I was missing her badly.

‘Whether I get selected or not, but I promise I’ll beat all the students of this center,’ I promised virtual Smita. I wished if she could hear me and understand my degree of love for her.

Soon we all were made to enter the test center on producing our admit cards before security officials. We were not supposed to carry any kind of paper along with us. Even wallets and mobiles were not permitted. But still I kept that picture of Smita in my pocket.

9:15 A.M. Sealed question papers along with OMRs were distributed and we were required to fill all the formalities.

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9:30 A.M. A bell rang, compelling us to break the seal of that virgin question paper. I used my pen to break it. But some unfortunate fools spent 10 precious minutes for breaking the seal itself.

The question paper was somewhat tough. But Kota species were ready for anything and so I started answering them rapidly, first Physics then Chemistry and finally Math. Math had been a subject of worry for me and I didn’t attempt it well.

12:15 P.M. A warning bell rang to caution us of the imminent end.

12:30 P.M. Another bell rang to declare the end of the exam. Question paper along with OMR was handed over to the invigilator.

A series of questions then floated in the air. 1) What was the level of the exam? 2) How many questions did you attempt? 3) How much cut off are you expecting?

I reached 1-PA-90 to find Preet and Saahil dancing.

‘It’s all over. Today we can dance. We were on an exile and now it’s over,’ Saahil shouted.

I was happy for we did well up to our standards. But our fates were to be decided soon on the judgment day.

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64

JUDGEMENT DAY

April 28, 2005 ‘Wake up Akash! Results would be out by 8

A.M. Hurry! Don’t you know there’s a Q for everything here?’

Johny’s voice served as a perfect alarm. I rushed to open the door. Saahil too entered my room with a toothbrush in his mouth like a cigar.

‘Server would be down anytime. We have to reach the cyber café as soon as possible,’ Johny said.

We woke up Preet to make him realize the fact that SCREENINGS result was to be announced that day. Heart 2 Heart had some technical problems. So we dashed to Bits N Bytes.

10 minutes later We parked our bicycles outside Bits N Bytes

and then we saw a long Q. First come, first serve. Johny was glaring at me. We wrote our respective roll numbers on a chit. An Uncle collected them to reveal the secret electronic results.

10 Rupees. That was the cost of a result for Bits N Bytes. But for us, it was a priceless affair. The server went down many times in between. We practically saw a Queuing problem of Operational Research in that long Q. Finally my turn came and my roll number was fed into a box. I took out Smita’s photo and kissed it. And then the SUBMIT button was pressed. The result page was loading at snail’s speed. I thought I could have had my breakfast or another nap in the mean time.

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I kept my fingers crossed and my heart was again a frog, jumping up and down, same like when I met Smita. The hopes of my parents, my tireless efforts, output of my two years input, my chance to impress Smita- all were at stake. I thought I did it. I made it into the MAINS. But Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle was always there to bother me. It was a game solely based on cut off, a minimum number of marks that could make me appear in the MAINS.

On the screen, in red letters, was written SORRY. THIS ROLL NUMBER DID NOT QUALIFY FOR MAINS.

‘What?’ I couldn’t believe it. Many more eyes were glancing at my result. ‘Who’s this ass who got a kick on his ass from

IIT-JEE,’ a voice from the crowd taunted. A tear came out of my eye. And then another. But I wiped them away as it was not the end. Life sucks.

Johny and Saahil made it. But Preet got dejected and rejected, just like me.

‘Akash! What happened? I think you made it. Where’s my party?’ Johny congratulated.

‘I got disqualified,’ I said with a heavy heart. He empathized with me.

Saahil rushed toward Johny and hugged him. I could feel how the success tasted, through them.

We all came back and I went straight to my room. I took out my wallet and saw her picture. A tear trickled down my eyes and gravity pulled it down over my cheeks. I tried my best. But I lost.

‘Why did you do this to me? I didn’t deserve it. What was my fault? That I came to Kota, that I

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loved Smita or that I don’t believe in your intentions? Tell me!’

I yelled at the omnipresent. But it was of no use. There was no excuse for my failure.

If you lose by a millimeter or by a mile, you lose. I was also sad because Preet and Saahil were

leaving that day for their hometown, Bhopal, to give another deadly exam of AIEEE. It was likely that they would never return to Kota.

It was on the judgment day that I was terminated by a terminator- IIT-JEE.

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65

VALEDICTION-2

May 2, 2005 After my dismal performance in IIT-JEE I

deliberately underperformed in AIEEE. Then I was left with two options-one, to surrender and lay out my arms and second, to fight and win. My inner self would have never compelled me to choose the first one. I wanted to prove myself at any cost.

But for that I have to wait for one whole year. I could have easily got admitted into any other state level college by giving state engineering exams. But to get into IITs was my only aim. I was a wounded soldier, not ready to succumb to my failures.

I went to Heart 2 Heart to bid bye to RB. He felt sad to see me depressed. That day we had a silent discourse through our eyes. He patted my back. I met Gundey at his shop, Modern Video Library. He consoled me by offering a free VCD of Hum Tum. Initially I resented but then he insisted me to keep it. I bid bye to him.

I met many of my friends on my way- Pohawalas, Security guards of Gurukul etc. I went to Sangam to have my last meal of that session. I was getting emotional. I was going to miss it badly. Ram was also sad to hear about my results and my departure.

I packed my bags and set off for the railway station. I hired Salim Bhai’s auto. He took nominal charges that day. I can never forget the

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respect these people gave me. Money and other materialistic things are ephemeral but respect is eternal. It’s very hard to earn respect.

On my way to the station I halted at Amar Punjabi Dhaba to take a quick meal. I had heard a lot about it. To be honest, it was really the best dhaba. Service was quick and quality was such that you would love to come there again. What an irony that I went to that Dhaba when I was leaving Kota.

I went back to Nagpur. As expected, people there were more concerned about my failure than I was.

‘Your son was good in studies till he was here. You should not have sent him to Kota. He has now slipped out of your hands. That’s why he failed.’

My dad had to listen it all. But I cared the least as people have the hobby of talking about others.

29th May, 2005 ‘It’s my birthday today.’ I sent an offline message to Smita. I never

expected any reply. Next day I was browsing Yahoo mail when I saw an

offline message. ‘Happie brthday! Mny rtrns of d day!’ Unbelievable! It was from Smita’s id. Finally I got my gift of

getting her wishes. It gave me a new zeal. I gave the entrance exam of Gurukul for the second time and I cleared it. I jumped into Chennai Jaipur express and announced-

‘Kota! I’m coming.’

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13th Class Series

66

2nd INNINGS

Same place, same aim. Same passion, same game. I was back to Kota. I still couldn’t forget how

people ridiculed me. They all wanted a befitting reply.

People are defined as those who always pat your back till you are doing well. And the day you fumble, they all are present not to give you a helping hand, but to enjoy watching your free fall.

Saahil and I shared something in common. We both couldn’t make it into IITs just by one mark and we both came back to Kota. The only difference was that I didn’t clear SCREENINGS and he MAINS. We knew the importance of one mark in India by then.

Arpit and Ashish entered IIT Powai while Johny made it into IIT Kharagpur. Begi joined NTU, Singapore. Plumbum, Nilesh, Nikhil, Anish got disqualified.

Sometimes you lose trust upon your own caliber just because of the term luck. It’s another of those excuses that we usually put in front of others to hide our failure. But still I thought I was unlucky.

Saahil had then taken a room above HSBC ATM on rent. He wanted to be alone. I couldn’t forget those days when we did combined study.

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And Smita. I didn’t know where she was. I took out my wallet to see her picture. It gave me zeal to fight against all odds. I was more desperate to make it anyhow into the prestigious IITs, to answer all those who questioned my caliber.

I reached 1-PA-90 to extend my living contract with my landlord for one more year. He was looking at me with pity. I had to face it all.

New faces occupied old rooms there. Audi in PB cum LB’s room (Mudit virtually lived in it), Sachin in Nikhil’s, Arihant in Saahil’s and Shukla in Preet’s. I got my old room back. They all were in 12th class. I soon made friends with them and became Akash Bhaiya. I got new friends in my neighborhood as well- Ankit and Kishore. They were cousins and were friends of Saahil.

Saahil and I were again at the reception center to inquire about the batch allotments. A total of 20 batches from R-1 to R-10 and S-1 to S-10 came into existence. I was then in R-8. Saahil and Ankit were in the best, R-1 while Kishore was in S-4. Ankit had a crush upon Sejal, who like Smita was a rare combination of beauty and brain. But it was also one sided affair. A rumor was in the air that she was in love with Swastik, an ex-Gurukulite, then in IIT Delhi. It made Ankit crestfallen. The thing that hurt him the most was that they were in the same batch for the session.

I never thought that Ankit’s story was going to intersect mine very soon.

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67

ORKUT

‘Do you have any idea of what Smita is doing on Orkut?’ Ankit questioned me.

‘What happened?’ ‘She tried to interfere in the love life of Swastik

and Sejal.’ ‘What?’ ‘She sent him a scrap that was a bit crap.

Swastik told her not to shit anymore in his scrapbook and warned her to be out of his love life.’

‘The same Sejal whom you like?’ I asked. ‘Forget that part and concentrate on yours,’ he

replied. ‘Initially I thought that Smita is a good girl. But after this episode I can’t believe it. She’s no less than a vamp.’

‘What did she actually scrap?’I asked angrily. ‘Swastik deleted that scrap. You can imagine

the level of mess she created. I still doubt your choice. I think she’s not like what you thought,’ he said.

‘How can I access that scrapbook?’ I inquired. ‘Someone has to invite you to join Orkut,’ he

replied. ‘Can you come with me to Heart 2 Heart?’ ‘I have some work today. I will drop you an

invite by afternoon.’ ‘Okay! But I still doubt that Smita created any

mess.’ ‘I’m your good friend. It’s my duty to inform

you,’ he said. He left for his class.

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Eve at Heart 2 Heart RB assigned me a remote corner to carry on

my business. I got the invitation from Ankit on my Yahoo mail. I clicked on the hyperlink and then I entered the world of Orkut.

‘The most confusing part of Orkut is the scrapbook. Initially you see your own scrapbook and write scraps to self.’ RB said.

I did the same mistake. The most challenging part is to complete the Orkut profile. It took me half an hour to do so. Beads of perspiration formed all over my forehead.

I made a visit to Swastik’s profile. I found nothing meaningful. Then I searched for Smita’s profile. In her scrapbook I found a scrap from Swastik. Ankit was right. I couldn’t believe that Smita created a mess. To become a bone of contention between two lovers is one of the greatest sins. That killed my love for her. How can I ever love her?

I saw her profile. The info provided in it was quite low as per my standards. Her address, phone number and birthdate were not mentioned since it was a girl’s profile. I signed off and stood up.

‘What happened?’ RB inquired. ‘Here’s your money. Time’s up and so is my

objective.’

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68

YAHOO!

‘You looked worried yesterday. What’s the matter?’ RB asked.

I told him the entire story. ‘May be God has better plans for you,’ he

consoled. ‘System free?’ I asked. He nodded. I signed into Yahoo messenger to pour all my

anger over Smita. Who the hell do u think urslf 2 b? I thght u 2

b gud bt u trnd out 2 b a home breaker. I likd u so mch bt u brk my heart. U wld nvr undrstnd wat true luv is. Nvr evr tlk 2 me. Bye frevr.

I was weeping from my heart. First it was IIT-JEE and then love that broke me from within.

‘Forget her like a sweet dream,’ RB said. How could I forget my dream girl so easily? I took out my wallet to tear that picture of

Smita. But I kept it back, safe. I recalled some old memories associated with

Yahoo messenger. I used to flirt with Pakistani guys through a fake id- Alisa Aryan, an Anglo Indian from University of California. The moment I entered the Pakistan chat rooms, guys went crazy.

‘Hi. ASL plz,’ a common request by them. A Hi from my side acted as fuel for fire. I kept my age flexible and at times told guys never to ask a

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girl’s age. I knew exactly what they wanted and I delivered accordingly, to keep their interest alive.

When they asked for a picture, I sent them photos from a Russian bride website. Sending a picture of some popular actress/model would have got me caught. And eventually guys fell in love with fake Alisa that way. I made fool out of many till my career ended as a one sided lover in real life. I hurt feelings of many and then it was my turn.

I came back to my room and started turning pages of the diary in which I wrote many romantic poems dedicated to Smita. I was still confused.

Was it an End or a New Beginning?

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69

INFATUATION?

‘Nice to see you again. System’s free,’ RB said. ‘Counter strike or internet?’

‘Internet,’ I replied instantly. I sat at the same place where she broke my

heart. I signed into Yahoo messenger. I saw some offline messages. Most of them were from prostitutes.

‘Click on this link 2 c me naked.’ Is it compulsory? Once I had a funny chat with a prostitute. ‘Ur ASL pls,’ she requested. ‘17 M India,’ I replied. ‘U nghty boy! Click on this blue link 2 c me

naked.’ ‘U wld luk more beautiful in cloths.’ ‘Sum boys scrw me up. Hey! Com’on. I’m on

my webcm, naked.’ I was getting those erotic offers since I joined

Yahoo. But I really wished to talk to sensible girls, not to those prostitutes or Smita. While scrolling down I found an offline message from Smita.

‘Wht hav I done n y r u behavin lik this?’ I got emotional and I started converting my

feelings into text format. ‘I nvr xpctd u 2 b such. I lwaz assumd u 2 b a

sweet, simpl gal. I likd u.’ I told her about that scrapbook case. ‘I still miss you,’ I ended the message. I closed my eyes and tears made their way out.

I was wondering what my actual problem was.

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Did I really love her or did I love some girl I imagined? I wiped off my tears.

‘RB, I’m going. I’ll give you the money tomorrow,’ I said.

He noticed that my voice texture had suddenly changed as it grew heavy.

‘Why are you crying?’ he asked. I smiled in reply but it was the biggest lie. He

understood everything. ‘Smita? Come on Akash! Girls and girls are

everywhere,’ he said. But girls like Smita are very rare. I thought RB was still unaware of the girl’s

equation- Beauty* Availability* Brain=Constant I hate God. I never thought it necessary to

hang around Smita. God plotted incidents which forced me to love her. God arranged conditions that compelled me to run behind her. And when everything was going to be over, God was again planning to do something new and weird. Reality is truly weirder than fiction.

I came back home and had my face wash. I then solved Irodov for a few hours. I was back to Heart 2 Heart in the evening. I again entered into the world of Yahoo messenger. I saw two offline messages, both from Smita. 1) Do trst me. I hav nt done nythin wrng. Pls

undrstnd me. 2) U r a vry gud boy. Bt I stil think it’s

infatuation. Cnfirm it.

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70

WELLEN

6 A.M. Sun was still in its deep slumber when I was

standing near HSBC ATM, waiting for Saahil to come out. Getting up early boosts your confidence. You realize that you have more time in hand to do some useful stuff than those still sleeping.

‘I like visiting temples early in the morning and jogging is good for health,’ Saahil said, a night before.

I knew he was more interested in Deviyon ke Darshan (watching Godesses). I was still thinking about those offline messages of Smita when Saahil came down.

‘Let’s go to Wellen lane,’ he said. Wellen was the best medical coaching institute

of India. Most of the seats of AIIMS got filled by its students. 90 % of Wellen students were girls.

‘I know the route. Jog with me,’ Saahil said. We started jogging on the empty streets. Some

Pohawalas were getting Pohas (beaten rice) ready for the breakfast. An auto driver was lounging in his auto, listening to Dhoom Machale (popular Bollywood song from the movie Dhoom).

We halted at a temple on our way. I being an antagonist was not interested to pray. But I did fold my hands to show my respect for Saahil’s feelings. He closed his eyes and murmured something. And then we were again jogging.

We then had a glimpse of a girl walking solitarily on the empty Wellen lane. She was in the

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dress code of Wellen. Relativity theory suggested that we were approaching her. Saahil’s grin always made girls misunderstand him as it did that time.

We were surely not going to rape her. Real men don’t rape. Saahil was just having an eye tonic. I already had something green and pleasing to look at, that Girl In Green aka Smita. But Saahil was never satisfied. We saw another girl joining the first one. More girls joined them. Their population proliferated and I thought it better to retreat. But Saahil was in no mood to leave that opportunity to see so many beautiful girls together.

‘I think we should leave,’ I warned Saahil, as if we were surfing over a Tsunami.

‘You think they would rape us,’ Saahil winked. His eyes were transfixed upon them.

By then about 50 girls were marching straight toward us. We avoided eye contact and our jogging transformed into running. As we came forward we found rooms of beautiful, sexy Wellen girls. One such girl wearing a simple pink Salwar Kurta was performing Surya Puja (Sun worship) by pouring water from a pot on a Tulsi (Holy Basil) plant, in front of the rising sun. I loved that kind of girls, simple and beautiful.

‘Look at this notice. PG rooms available for boys and girls,’ Saahil said. ‘It means both boys and girls can have a living relationship. Wow! And the kids born to them can start their lives in Kota right away by attending coaching institutes. Awesome!’

I smiled. We soon came back to our rooms. Early morning jogging became a part of our

daily routine and also our favorite time pass.

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71

RS CONFIGURATION

‘A new Organic Chemistry faculty has joined Gurukul,’ Saahil announced. ‘He has a teaching experience of over 10 years. He has been associated with Turning Point coaching classes in the past. Moreover he’s an IUPAC member and has a doctorate degree too.’

Ankit, Saahil, Sachin, Arihant, Kishore, Audi and I were having a round table conference at Sangam.

‘What’s his name?’ Ankit asked. ‘RS. It reminds me of the RS configuration for

the optically active compounds,’ Saahil answered. ‘How do you manage to collect so much info

in advance?’ I asked. ‘Our sexy young receptionist. She’s my ISP-

Intelligence & Spy news Provider. I’m a real news wirepuller,’ Saahil said with confidence.

‘I thought she’s your ISP- Intelligent Sex Provider,’ Kishore said.

Everyone had a laugh. Kishore and Saahil had just one thing in

common- they both loved girls, especially Wellen girls. For rest of the things Saahil was a news wirepuller and Kishore in turn, his leg puller.

‘Tomorrow, we all would come to know the truth,’ Ankit uttered.

Next Day I collected BTH and APQs from the APQ

desk and entered classroom no. 11. RS was the hot topic of discussion there.

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And then he entered. 6 feet tall, somewhat bald but very cute. He wore specs and had an air of confidence around him.

‘Everyone fine,’ he started. ‘Yes,’ few voices whispered. ‘I can’t hear you. Didn’t you have your

breakfast?’ Everyone nodded. ‘Then speak up a bit loud. Everybody fine,’ he

yelled. ‘Yes Sir,’ everyone shouted, as if in some Army

training camp. I was about to drown in the memories of Yes

Sir when the voice of RS knocked my ear drums. ‘Friends! My name is Rupal Sunehra. I’m here

to teach you Organic Chemistry. I’m a car whose sole fuel is your voice, your response to my questions.’

Nothing was feminine about him except his name. He made us solve some very basic questions. One of my batchmates, who thought he knew everything in Organic Chemistry, was busy gossiping with his neighbor.

‘Get up, you black shirt!’ RS roared. His eyes were red with rage. RS came near to his seat.

‘Give me your ID card. You don’t deserve to be a Gurukulite. You all must know that many students are still standing in a long hopeless Q outside, who are more eligible. What if I throw this senseless, stupid boy out? Tell me! What should I do with him?’

A pin drop silence prevailed for a few seconds. His partially bald looks and his personality matched with that of Raghu of Roadies (a youth

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reality show on MTV) fame. He was a strong proponent of democracy as he relied on the common decision of the class.

‘Suspend him for the day,’ the whole class shouted in unison.

A few days later Fear sometimes compels you to do things you

are not supposed to. I was sitting in the last row and RS dictated

five questions to us. I wasn’t able to hear the last one properly. Then I did the unforgivable. Instead of pleading him to repeat the question, I peeked into my neighbor’s register.

RS wrote the answers on the white board and turned back.

‘How many of you got the answers correct.’ All but one hand went up. I was still peeking into my neighbor’s register.

My answer was incorrect. According to the question asked, my answer was 100% correct but I was too late to track that the question itself was wrong.

‘I knew there would be special cases in this batch too. Now solve this one.’

He gave another question. I solved it within seconds.

‘You, red T-Shirt! What’s your answer?’ RS inquired.

‘Sir, aromaticity would increase and the reactivity would decrease in this case,’ I said confidently.

‘Are you confident?’

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‘Sir, I mean aromaticity would decrease,’ I reverted back. I feared that I again committed some mistake.

‘Your neighbor is spitting and you are licking it. Marry a woman like Indira Gandhi (first and only lady prime minister of India) who can both cook and earn,’ RS shouted. ‘Friends, do you all know about RDS (Rate Determining Step) of a reaction?’

‘Yes Sir!’ the class roared. ‘Then you must also know that this red T-Shirt

guy is the RDS of the class. Till this fool doesn’t understand, the class can’t proceed. Note this point as a new RS concept,’ RS pointed.

The class got over with that line. Although RS scared the hell out of me, much more was still in store in my next Physics class.

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72

AG’S LIST

‘What do you know about Fluid Mechanics?’ Our Physics class commenced by that question

of one of the scariest teachers of Gurukul, Alok Gupta aka AG.

Fluid mechanics was considered to be one of the toughest topics in IIT-JEE syllabi. SHM, Trigonometry and Conic Section envied it.

‘Till now, you donkeys knew that buoyancy force is a ghost. From somewhere, all of a sudden, emerges this magical force that always acts in an upward direction. Isn’t it?’ he commented and quickly ran his fingers through his hairs.

His hairstyle was akin to Raj Aryan (lead character of Bollywood movie Mohabbatein) who always carried a Violin with him. AG instead always carried a tiffin box.

He used an approach of teaching quite popular among students as Cursing Approach. He used to curse students in such a way that they remembered his each and every class, lifelong. Many students shunned his classes because of that approach. They never did understand him. But Saahil and I never missed any of his class. We knew that his Cursing Approach was in fact a boon for us.

He was called the Master of Rigid bodies. But he became more popular because of his SUFOS- Student Un-Friendly Operating System. After Schindler’s list we came to know about AG’s list- a list of donkeys declared by AG.

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He commenced the doubt session by penning down all the answers of the APQ on the white board.

‘I’m asking one by one. Raise your hands if you have any doubt in a particular question. Okay,’ he said. ‘Question no.1?’

A few confident hands went up. ‘Which donkey has got a doubt in it?’ he asked. And they all fell down. ‘Come on fool, raise up your hand,’ he insisted. One hand was quivering as it got raised up

again. There was an external resistance called the cursing force of AG acting on it which was superseded by the inquisitive force acting internally. It was my hand.

‘Let’s read the question carefully. Just imagine that….Okay. Now I got it. You can never solve this question. Ask why?’

‘Why?’ I asked with a tinge of innocence in my voice.

‘Just imagine...How can you imagine? Because you are a donkey and donkeys don’t imagine,’ he suggested.

He then gave a brief answer to that question. But he didn’t stop cursing me for braying over a simple Just Imagine.

‘Question 2, any doubts?’ he continued. Nobody wished to fall into the AG’s list. So no

more doubts. No more confident hands including mine. Finally a tough question presented an opportunity to those dull hands to regain confidence. Nobody was able to solve it. Unexpectedly AG solved the whole question on

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the board and that too, without cursing. He knew the right time and the right guy to curse.

‘Next. 14. Any doubt?’ A few hands went up in the air. ‘Now who the fool has got a problem with

14?’ he shouted. And again, they all fell down except one. I

didn’t know his name but I very well knew that he was good at Physics.

AG scanned the question and he ran fingers through his hairs as a hint of frustration that had crept into him.

‘Did you pass your board exams of 10th? Or did you get a direct entry to the Gurukul?’

His question surprised us all. ‘You can never solve this question, I tell you

why. It contains graph and since you failed in your high school for not knowing graphs, how can you solve it?’ he commented.

Everyone had a laugh. ‘What for are you all laughing? You are no

better,’ he grumbled. The class got over. Everyone took a deep

breath. While coming out, I met the only other donkey of our class declared by AG that day.

‘Only two of us had the guts to raise our doubts, however silly they were,’ he said.

‘And so we are now officially in AG’s list,’ I said with pride.

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73

DATE WITH HER DAD

I was standing outside Smita’s residence in Lucknow, around 10 A.M. in the morning. I could no longer stay away from her. After a few minutes, she came out. Probably she saw me from the window. She looked worried.

‘Hey Akash! What are you doing here?’ she asked.

What? She doesn’t want me to be here? She doesn’t love me? Should I go back?

Those thoughts buried my confidence. But I had the ability to manage situations, especially when they were about to change my life.

‘Smita, I wish things would have not gone the way as they did. I’m unfortunate that I was never able to show what really was present. All that came before you was just the opposite of what I thought and wished. But here I’m today, in front of your house, just because of you,’ I said in a flow.

‘But dad’s inside. What if he sees you? You must leave immediately,’ she warned. She sounded concerned.

‘Promise me that you’ll be back soon,’ I requested.

‘Smita. What are you doing there? And whom are you talking to?’ Smita’s dad shouted.

‘Run Akash! You could be in trouble,’ she cried.

I was about to run away when I stopped and turned back. Smita’s dad then looked at me as if I

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was an alien on this planet. His looks were unamiable.

‘Namaste Uncle! I’m Akash from Gurukul. Smita and I were in the same batch.’

‘Smita, you get inside. Let me greet your guest,’ he said.

Smita gave a last worried look to me and went inside. It seemed like she loved to stay with me. I couldn’t believe it.

‘So you are Smita’s batchmate. Right?’ he asked. I hate repeating same details but I preferred to nod.

‘And?’ he asked. ‘Sorry, I didn’t get it.’ ‘Boyfriend?’ ‘I still don’t know. Actually it depends on how

a boyfriend is defined,’ I replied. Smita’s dad was totally confused. I was in his

interview to get placement in his heart and get Smita as my package with perks and privileges in the form of honeymoon etc.

‘Are you in any of the prestigious IITs?’ ‘No! But I’m pretty sure that I’ll crack it this

time. I’m diligent and intelligent. Just a bit hapless,’ I said confidently.

‘You can’t take away my daughter. You say much and do nothing except dawdling. I know boys like you very well. Get lost from here and never come back,’ he said and pointed his index finger toward the exit.

‘But Uncle, I came so far just to talk to her. Just a few minutes and I would be done,’ I resisted.

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‘No way! You failed,’ he said and burst into laughter.

A drop of tear came into my eyes. I wiped it off as a sign of fight back.

‘I’m always eligible for Smita. I don’t care about the facts. I know myself better than what they suggest. The thing that matters the most is that I love her.’

‘What? Are you out of your senses?’ he asked. ‘The fact is that I love her, I love her and I

love her,’ I repeated. Alarm sounded to wake me up from my

slumber. Even inclusion in AG’s list of donkeys and scolding from RS were less terrifying than that nightmare.

I rushed to Ankit’s room to tell him about that dream.

‘Man! At least dominate in your dreams. Anyways, you now know what has to be done,’ he said.

‘What?’ I asked. ‘Duffer, crack IIT-JEE and then propose her,

before it’s too late.’

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DOSTANA

Once I hugged both Kishore and Ankit when I met them after a long period. But they mistook me.

‘Bhai, Baap nahin hai kya tere ghar mein? (Don’t you have dad and brothers at your home?)’ Ankit shouted.

‘Oh, com’n! You both are just my friends,’ I justified.

‘Gay Saala,’ Kishore muttered. Just a minor change in vowels can make one

become a gay from a guy. That Jhappi (warm hug) became a bone of contention between me and them. Finally the day arrived when I turned the tables.

ANNAPURNA RESTAURANT Sunday, 8 P.M. As Sangam was off for the evening, we were

hunting for some quick meal. A T.V. set always attracts a large crowd and so on Sundays Annapurna used to be houseful.

I was flanked by Kishore and Ankit. They bought packets of Maggi Masala. They were also sipping soft drink. I was contented with Aloo Parathas (flat-breads with potato stuffing), two of them enough to suffice my hunger. I took half liter Amul full cream milk pack. We were waiting in a Q for the payment. I was constantly watching Kishore. He in turn was constantly looking at someone else.

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Kishore had the habit of gazing at girls. He fell in love with every girl he saw on his way. And it was happening again. He was falling in love with a girl in Annapurna restaurant.

‘What’s the matter dude?’ I asked. He didn’t utter a word from his mouth. ‘Kishore and girls, same old story,’ Ankit

answered. ‘So long, sexy hairs. Beautiful face,’ Kishore

finally spoke. She was in front of us, waiting for her number

to come. Kishore was standing close to her, smelling the scent of her hairs. Finally her turn came.

‘How much?’ she asked. A manly voice. Kishore started rubbing his eyes and scanned

her from top to bottom. He then came out of the line, covering his face with his hands. Ankit was speechless. A real shock that shook the world of Kishore, full of girls.

He was no She. He was not beautiful, rather handsome. Kishore fell in love with a good looking guy having long hairs. We all thought him to be a girl but a quick Girl Scan Program run by Kishore displayed- Threat detected! A handsome guy found.

He broke all his virtual bangles. We paid our bills and then I came near to him.

‘Now tell me who’s gay?’ I demanded. We all laughed.

At the end of that day we shared one thing in common- DOSTANA (friendship, also name of a Bollywood movie based on gay topic).

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75

BACKSTREET GIRLS

‘Hi Akash! How are you?’ It was a familiar voice from the vocal cords of

a person whom I met after a long time. ‘Hi Ravi! I’m really surprised to see you again.’

I was happy to see him but at the same time I felt bad. He was also a repeater then.

‘What’s your batch?’ he asked. ‘R-8. And yours?’ ‘Mine is S-2. Time has changed. You are now

in a better batch,’ he replied. I was still in the eighth batch and not the first.

So it hardly mattered. ‘Do drop at my room today. Let’s rejoice old

memories. What say?’ he proposed. I nodded. He gave his address and then we bid

bye to each other. Evening I knocked at Ravi’s door. He opened it up,

with a pair of headphone speakers fixed in his ears like a stethoscope to check up not the beats of heart but the beats of music. He was a big time music lover. But I came to know something else too.

‘So how’s your preparation going on? I know you’ll definitely crack IIT-JEE,’ he said.

‘Thanks a lot. To be honest I need to work much harder as I really want to clear it this time, anyhow.’

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‘I know you want to do it for Smita. Hey! I forgot to tell you something. I have an old picture of her. If you want I can show it to you.’

I was dying to see that picture. I nodded. He then took out a diary kept beneath a pile of

IIT-JEE books. The caption read- BACKSTREET GIRLS. It was a prepossessing title inspired by the

band- Backstreet Boys. ‘I told you once that we love to gather info

about girls. We also used to take pictures of girls sneakily through our spy cams,’ he said.

I read the Preface. This is a collaborative work of boys who love collecting

info about Gurukul girls. All pictures are real. Date and time at which these were captured are also mentioned. All data collected is true to our knowledge. If anybody wants to give any suggestions, he’s not at all welcome. We will kick his ass. Now enjoy.

I went through the diary. Nicknames of girls and all info regarding them were provided. My eyes stuck upon a new term.

TAIL. ‘What does tail refer to?’ I asked. ‘Actually every girl has one or the other guy

chasing her. So we termed him as a tail,’ he said and giggled.

I saw her picture. She looked beautiful as always. I got emotional. I quickly scanned all the details attached to her file. I felt proud that I had more info about her from my spy resources than that file.

My eyes were then fixed on the term tail in her file. No tail of Smita was reported. There was only

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one suspect found. I turned my eyes to Ravi for an answer.

‘That’s you. Till now I found only one boy madly behind Smita.’

I was happy that I was the only suspected tail of Smita. I knew by then that Backstreet Girls were the species with one or more tails.

We had a light chat for a few minutes and then I came back to my room. I was still wondering who would be the next on the hairlines of their spy cams, to open a new file in the diary of Backstreet Girls.

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76

MAID-2

While that diary on Backstreet Girls was the best asset for girlphillic boys and one sided lovers, the best I had as a repeater were the two maids. The Bengali maid, Shanta Didi used to take care of my ablutions while the maid from Orissa, Kanta Didi took care of my room and utensils.

Kanta Didi was more intimate to and a mother figure for me. Shanta Didi advocated absenteeism. Once she was absent for a period of five days. There was a chaos inside my room. I had five T-shirts that I used to wear for the classes and rest of my dresses too got dirty owing to rains. So I was shirtless for a whole day as I had no T-shirt to wear on the sixth day. I didn’t wash them on my own because of the mammoth homework and tight Gurukul schedule.

They both got a monthly income of Rs 70/- per head from us. The whole credit for the neatness and cleanliness of my room went to Kanta Didi.

‘Do you go to Orissa?’ I once asked. ‘I visit my natives once in five years,’ Kata Didi

replied. Her life was tougher than ours. They used to

work for the whole month to meet their ends. Whatever they earned in a month vaporized in the form of the school fees of their kids. Only a small part was left for them to sustain.

One incident took place that shook the world around them.

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Students of Kota are generally trustworthy but exceptions are everywhere. One such exception who virtually stayed with us was Shukla. We nicknamed him Mr. India as he was always invisible. He was a student of Mallik cyber café than of Gurukul. While we used to do a night out for pending APQs, he did the same for CS matches.

When IIT-JEE was dancing on our heads, he decided to leave for his hometown. We were surprised to find him at his room for a full day while he was packing his bags to leave the city forever. When he was about to depart in an auto we bid him farewell.

‘So finally leaving Kota?’ Audi commented. ‘Yes! And I hope I never come back here

again,’ Shukla replied. ‘It would be beneficial for you,’ Sachin advised. Arihant and Shukla were not in good terms

and so didn’t talk. ‘Take care and all the best!’ I wished him. He was gone leaving behind a storm. Next day ‘Bhaiya, it’s now a month. Can you give me my

wage?’ Shanta Didi requested. I quickly handed her the money. But she soon

returned. ‘Bhaiya, where’s Shukla Bhaiya?’ she ventured. ‘He left Kota yesterday,’ I replied. ‘What

happened?’ ‘He didn’t give me wages of two months. I’m

in a big financial crisis. How would I manage now?’ she started crying.

K.O.T.A 215

I thought for a second and gave her 140 Rupees. She took it swiftly.

‘God has really sent an Angel on this earth. I’m so happy,’ she said and went back to her work.

I knew the same would have happened to Kanta Didi. But she didn’t utter a word. She didn’t even ask for her monthly wage. I knew she would have felt the same way as I did, when I got disqualified in IIT-JEE. She deserved that money. When I tried to pay on behalf of Shukla, she resisted.

‘It’s so sweet of you to think about me. But why would you give his money? I’m glad that I meet students like you,’ she said.

It’s hard to find people like Kanta Didi in real world who are happy with whatever they have. I was inspired by her hard work and was soon going to become a Spartan in the world of Gurukul.

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77

300

January 1, 2006 New Year. Time to take new resolutions. I was

so desperate to make it into IITs- for my parents, for Smita and for everyone who had been with me in my struggles. To give a bitter reply to all my critics, I needed to bang an exam just like Sachin Tendulkar who kicks his critics with a ton.

I took out my wallet and glanced at Smita’s picture. I was like a soldier away from my home, from my lady. I kissed her cheeks virtually.

‘I deserve IITs and you but I don’t understand what my problem actually is?’ I shouted, as if she was hearing me.

‘It’s now or never. It’s time to prove, to improve,’ I said, punching my fists on the fragile study table.

Suddenly I found sleep to be my foe. I didn’t sleep for two consecutive nights.

‘It seems that tube light and you were on for 48 hours. What happened man? Taking JEE spirit to the zenith?’ Audi asked. ‘Do you want Maggi or something?’

‘No thanks! I just need some more time,’ I replied.

January 9, 2006 Since New Year I had a total eight hours of

sleep in eight days. I had grown long hairs like MS Dhoni (Indian cricket team captain) of 2006. I looked aggressive and power packed.

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Exam Hall I had a last look at that picture of Smita when

bell rang to commence the exam. The questions were as usual difficult.

‘Now or never,’ I was reminded of my resolution.

I focused on the questions for three hours and bell again rang to put an end to my attempts. The number of correct attempts is what mattered to me and I tried to escape from the assaults of more questions put up by my batchmates like “How many did you attempt?”

Soon the answers of the test were displayed on the notice board. Some answers were controversial as always. The most difficult part was to pen down answers of as many as 240 questions. To save time, Saahil used to speak aloud the question number and respective answer rapidly. I noted them down matching his pace.

That day Saahil and I were back as a team and we calculated our scores.

‘Just 500 marks? Shit!’ Saahil exclaimed. ‘Wow! 300! My best performance as a

repeater,’ I shouted. Saahil patted my back. Two days later Results were out. My rank was same as my

score- 300. It was far better than my earlier rank- 1000. That 300 rank indicated that I was very likely to crack IIT-JEE. And that 300 made me a Spartan of my Sparta, Gurukul.

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78

RDB

‘Aamir’s new film Rang De Basanti (RDB) has hit the screens,’ Saahil said. We were having Pav Bhaji (Maharashtrian fast food) near Seema Ice-Cream Parlor.

‘Let’s go to Om Cineplex,’ I proposed. ‘I’m always ready for a cricket match or a

movie. Anyway, I need a treat for your superb 300,’ Saahil said.

I acquiesced. We then hired an auto. ‘The movie is based upon some air force stuff,’

Saahil said. ‘Times Of India rated it 4 stars.’ ‘Let’s see. Aamir (popular Bollywood actor)

seldom disappoints. I hope the movie turns out to be a blockbuster,’ I said.

The auto halted near Om Cineplex. A huge crowd amassed in front of the ticket counter because of three things- 1) Aamir Khan habitually hits the screens once

in a year. 2) It was Sunday. 3) The movie got 4 stars in Movie Review

Section of Times Of India. We somehow managed to get two tickets.

Women make life of men more miserable when it comes to Q business. Females usually utter one simple yet peevish phrase-Excuse me and then they surpass males and form their own queue, reducing chances of males getting the tickets.

Finally we were in SATYAM. Movie started with the following lines-

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Ab bhi jiska khoon na khaula, khoon nahin wo paani hai.

Jo desh ke kaam na aaye, wo bekaar jawaani hai. (One whose blood still doesn’t boil, it’s not

blood it’s water in his/her veins…that youth is worthless which is of no use to the nation.)

I was thrilled by those patriotic words. The movie initially took us for a ride into Delhi University where six friends including Aamir as DJ helped Sue who hails from U.K. to complete a documentary on extremist freedom fighters of India.

‘A.R. Rehman rocks,’ Saahil shouted. People wooed and whistled at Paathshaala song.

Saahil started dancing. He utilized his ticket’s price by enjoying the movie to 100%.

Interval Till then the movie displayed the story of a few

youngsters who thought that conditions in India would never improve. After interval, R.Madhvan in the role of Ajay Rathore, an air force pilot died in a plane crash resulting from cheap, defective parts used for its construction. Then his friends- DJ and team avenged his death.

The awesome part of the movie was the comparison made between pre-freedom and post-freedom India. The film moved me so much that for a few minutes and for the first time, even after the end of the show, I was seriously thinking about my country.

‘I think RDB resonates with my ideas. We should change the system,’ I said on our way back, in an auto.

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‘Only high profile people with source can do so. Not you, not me. Such things can happen only in movies,’ Saahil said.

Auto stopped near Saahil’s room. We both deboarded and bid bye to each other. I started the rest of my journey on foot. On my way I saw the slum of Kota. Though it was not for the first time I was watching a slum but it was for the first time I was concerned. I couldn’t digest the fact that they were born in the same way as I did. Yet I was fortunate and they were not.

I will help you all one day. I was thinking seriously about the message I

brought home from RDB. Koi bhi desh perfect nahin hota, use perfect banana

padta hai. (No country is perfect, it has to be made perfect.)

RDB laid the foundations of a big revolution that was to hit not just Kota but the entire nation.

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79

QUOTA HIKE

Morning of March 1 I was still lying on my bed thinking about

Smita, IIT-JEE and those who thought me to be Good For Nothing. The door of my room was slightly open.

‘Seriously, nothing can ever change in this country,’ Saahil complained as he entered my room with a newspaper.

‘What happened?’ I was still clueless. ‘SC (Scheduled Caste), ST (Scheduled Tribe),

OBC (Other Backward Class) quota to increase further in prestigious IITs, IIMs and AIIMS.’

For the first time Saahil’s face was solemn. ‘So that means General category students need

to work even harder,’ I said. ‘It’s a shame that politicians divide us this way.

We boast that India has IITs, great technology and all, but we all are still backward,’ Saahil said.

He was right. Most of the politicians had no concern for people of any category. They were venal because of their selfish motives and plotted plans of garnering max votes to retain their seat and rob our national income.

Sachin, Arihant and Audi too entered my room to tell the same news.

‘Every news channel has now a new spice for their daily recipe,’ Sachin said.

‘There’s more bad news for those repeating for the second time or more. They are not eligible for

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IIT-JEE from now on,’ Arihant reported. He read more than just the headlines.

‘What?’ Saahil shouted. ‘How can they do this?’ I asked. ‘Counseling is already over in all the colleges.

Ridiculous!’ Audi said. ‘Now AIEEE is the last resort for these guys,’

Sachin said. ‘According to the education minister those

who repeat twice or more in a coaching center mug up and clear IIT-JEE. Later they don’t fare well in IITs and fail. In short, they occupy seats meant for relatively better freshers,’ Arihant explained.

‘But why now, in the mid of the sea from where one can’t see any shore?’ Saahil questioned.

‘Actually there’s a serious problem with our system,’ Audi said.

‘And we can do nothing to change it. Because we don’t have the power to do so,’ Saahil said.

‘Hey! Have you ever noticed one peculiar thing?’ I asked, catching all eyes upon me. ‘We have entrance exams like IIT-JEE, CAT, AIPMT, SET, AIEEE. But...’

‘But?’ Audi ventured. ‘There’s no SCREENINGS or MAINS for

politicians. There’s no prestigious institute for politics,’ I said.

‘Sab maa ki pet se seekh ke aate hai. (All learn from their mother’s womb.) They don’t need any institute to learn corruption and dishonesty,’ Audi said.

K.O.T.A 223

‘We have the best doctors, technocrats and managers in the world, but one of the worst politicians,’ Saahil said.

‘The day our youth starts taking active participation in politics, our country would become a superpower.’ I said.

‘You know I’m from OBC category. I read about caste system in detail and since then I hated it,’ Arihant said, bringing us back to the original topic.

He then brought before us some facts that completely revolutionized our thinking.

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80

THE ULTIMATE SOLUTION

Caste System. A system that was flexible and initially based

on mutual consent that divided society based on profession. A system that was present in Africa during Apartheid and at present exists only in two countries- India and Malaysia. Genetic research claims that the genes of Aryans and Dravidians don’t differ much. Initially only those who used to bury dead bodies were called backward. But later the senseless concept of untouchables got introduced that strangled human rights. Mahatma Gandhi introduced the term Harijan and it were Dr. B.R. Ambedkar who fought for the respect and rights of the so called backwards. It soon became a political weapon in the hands of politicians to use people against one another and to lure them, corrupting the society as a whole. India was a concept on papers and not a nation of one voice any more. Carrying forward such an orthodox and outdated system is a sign of a backward nation.

Arihant gave a detailed speech. ‘We all are born in the same way. We all are

homo sapiens,’ I said. ‘You know what the worst thing is. I found

some students celebrating over the fact that they need very less marks to clear the exams than General category students. Now their goal is not to achieve excellence or give their best but to just crack the exam using their weapon of caste. How

K.O.T.A 225

can a nation ever develop by such short sighted students?’ Arihant said.

‘Reservations should not be caste based but need based. All are equal at birth. Those who lack resources should be helped since childhood. They should be groomed well enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with everyone and on the day of exam, competition must be between brilliance and not caste governed,’ Audi said.

‘Yeah! Education must be free and compulsory for all under privileged. Those who were not given facilities as of now should still get reservations. But this practice should be quickly done away with by providing adequate facilities to all. A nation can never be a superpower if it still has 70% of its population without adequate facilities,’ Sachin suggested.

‘If everyone really needs to follow caste system, make it flexible. All students, teachers etc. are then Brahmin, all soldiers and policemen Kshatriyas, and so on,’ Saahil said.

‘Or else make reservations everywhere the way you do in prestigious institutes. Reservations in Indian cricket team- four players of general category, three SC, two ST and two OBC,’ I said.

‘Where’s the quota system when it comes to Army? Who wants to get a quota to sacrifice life for his/her motherland?’ Arihant questioned.

‘God, you are lucky as you are not ascribed any caste by the orthodox people of this nation. At least they spared you,’ Audi said.

Sachin, Audi, Saahil, Arihant and I were all of different castes but one thing united us- hatred against Caste System. I didn’t know the caste of

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Smita. But I knew that Love is also blind for such a system as Love has no caste.

‘Caste no bar.’ My memories pulled me back to the English class where I read that line of my matrimonial proposal.

Saahil said that changing a system was only possible in movies. But he was soon going to be proved wrong.

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81

YFE

Youth was rewriting history. A revolt like the one in 1857 resurrected again in 2006, against a system that divided us on some basis like Divide and rule policy. A new organization was formed by the agile young people of India under the name-Youth for Equality (YFE) with the following beliefs- 1) All the citizens of a state cannot be equally

powerful, but they may equally be free. 2) The worst form of inequality is to make

unequal things equal. 3) Men are equal; it is not birth but virtue that

makes the difference. 4) The essence of our effort is to ensure that

every child has an equal opportunity, not to become equal but to become different- to realize whatever unique potential of body, mind and spirit he or she possess.

5) When the sun rises, it rises for everyone. 6) Equal rights for all, special privileges for none. 7) Equality is not in regarding different things

similarly; equality is in regarding different things differently.

Protests were launched in all parts of the country by youth and the brutal beating up of junior doctors and medical college students by the police at Mumbai infuriated the youth even more.

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DATE- March 2, 2006 IP Chowk, Kota While some students like Sachin were still

attending classes at different coaching centers or schools, most of the students were on a bunk, more appropriately on a hunger strike. YFE-Kota branch was leading it. Audi, Arihant, Saahil, Ankit, Kishore and I joined hands with YFE. Sachin kept away from the strike to avoid any physical mishap with him. The crowd comprised of students from engineering, medical, commerce and other backgrounds. Girls from Wellen came in large numbers.

‘First British divided us, now these politicians. Kalam Sir! Why are we forced to use guns instead of pens? Why is the Future Of Country divided on a caste basis?’ YFE spokesperson addressed that message to the then President Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam.

The whole crowd was charged up. We all held each other’s hands to show unity amongst all castes.

A police siren chimed. I saw three police jeeps surrounding the crowd and then a big police van came. Policemen in large numbers surrounded us with lathis (batons) and guns. They then started pulling students out from the crowd. It was unbelievable to see a reel scene of RDB movie turn real. We were then asked to leave the gathering peacefully, as instructed by the cops. But we were made of different stuff.

‘We are doing a peaceful protest. What’s the prob...? ?’ Saahil was yet to complete when I saw a lathi hitting him on his limbs. Audi and Arihant

K.O.T.A 229

responded quickly to pick up Saahil while I was still shocked. And then another lathi landed on my head.

I didn’t say a word. Still they hit me so hard that I was unconscious for a few minutes. When I gathered consciousness, what I saw was unbelievable. The chime of police siren was then replaced by that of the ambulance. The whole place was littered with school bags, registers, torn pages, pieces of clothes, blood spots and many more unconscious bodies.

I was seething with remorse. Tears fell from my eyes. And again I fell unconscious.

Government Medical College Hospital ‘How are you?’ Sachin inquired. Audi and

Arihant were flanking him. They had minor bruises.

‘What are you doing here? Go and attend your classes,’ I shouted at Sachin.

‘Don’t curse him. He was in the strike at the end. It was him who got you admitted here,’ Saahil muttered.

‘What?’ Tears filled my eyes. ‘I thought you would never come.’

Ankit and Kishore then entered. They too had injuries.

‘I’m ready to come here every day to get dressings by such sexy nurses,’ Kishore said.

‘Yeah! A better place than Wellen lane, where at least girls touch you,’ Saahil winked.

* Next day Tyal Sir called a meeting of all Gurukulites.

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‘Who the hell on earth told you to participate in the strike? What if something happened to you? Who was to answer then?’ he shouted.

Everyone’s eyes went down. Saahil was smiling.

‘As soon as I came to hear about the strike and Lathi charge, I called the education minister to look at the gravity of the matter. Today he has partially accepted your requests. I knew that repeaters would be allowed to give the exam and now we have the green signal. Seats of IITs would increase in the coming years to balance the quota hike. We have very less time left. You are my pearls and I know you will do well. All the best,’ Tayal Sir said in a flow.

‘Why not abolish the Caste System all together?’ Saahil muttered.

‘Shut up Saahil! Let’s go,’ I said, sheepishly. Twenty minutes later. ‘Welcome to Aaj Tak. Headlines of the hour.

Students of Kota force education minister to allow repeaters to give IIT-JEE this year and to increase seats of IITs in the near future.’

‘Yes we can! We did it,’ Saahil shouted. ‘Youth did it,’ I said. Few weeks later Audi, Sachin, Arihant and Kishore opted for

test centers at their home town and so they left Kota.

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82

LAST CHANCE

7 A.M. 9th April, 2006 Last chance to crack IIT-JEE and enter

prestigious IITs. ‘You can do it son,’ my father said that line

over the phone to remind me of his expectations. My relatives were too excited. People who were jealous of my dad’s success were praying that I should fail again.

Do or die! Three lakhs (Three hundred thousands) competitors. Three exams- Math, Physics and Chemistry. That time IIT-JEE had no SCREENINGS or MAINS.

In the words of education minister- ‘This time CBSE level questions would be

incorporated in IIT-JEE paper in order to crush the monopoly of Coaching Empire.’

I was expecting it and prepared accordingly. ‘All ready?’ Ankit asked. ‘Yeah!’ I said. ‘What’s your center?’ ‘Lodhi Public School,’ Ankit said. ‘Mine is St. Johns. All the best,’ I said and

pointed my thumbs up. And then we departed in different autos

toward our respective destinations. I was again in Salim Bhai’s auto. Saahil didn’t meet us that morning.

When I reached my exam center I was feeling a bit tensed. But that picture of Smita made me brave. I made some silent promises to that picture and entered the exam hall.

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10:00 A.M. Physics test commenced. Fluid mechanics is

really tough and I came to know of it that day. I knew all the concepts but it was the application that mattered the most. I was underperforming and a bad start can seriously hamper your results. And then a final blow from IIT-JEE ruined it all.

Multiple Match The Following. OMG! Probability theory suggested me that the

chance of getting it right was next to impossible. I was then writing the most historic, scariest and toughest IIT-JEE paper ever. No flukes could ever work in such challenging papers. Even negative marking policy was different for different questions.

12:00 P.M. The OMR and the question paper were

snatched away from my desk. I prepared my mind to make up in my Math paper.

1:00 P.M. Math test commenced. The thing that hurt me

the most was that some questions were similar to Exercise II of BTH, which I never revised. At room I had solved all those questions, but it took one hour for each. The level of the paper could be easily judged by such facts. I underperformed in Math too.

3:00 P.M. I attempted only 70 marks out of 240 marks

before submitting the OMR. My bad performance continued.

4:00 P.M.

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I started my Chemistry test with full vigor. I found it hard. IIT-JEE was smiling at me. The only mistake I did was that I believed in education minister’s words that exam would be easier.

6:00 P.M. Chemistry test was over and so was IIT-JEE. I

was very disappointed as IIT-JEE overpowered my aggressive nature and the power of my love. Saahil, who used to be among top four Gurukul repeaters, was sad as he too underperformed. Ankit was elated at his excellent performance.

Saahil, Ankit and I left Kota the next day. I didn’t know whether we would meet again. The memories Kota gave me had lifelong impacts. I was going to miss them badly.

Nagpur May 31, 2006 Results of IIT-JEE declared. I got a speedy

result as a result of the broadband internet connection at my home.

SORRY. THIS ROLL NUMBER DID NOT QUALIFY.

That time even Dad was crying with me. It was again Math which stopped my IIT-JEE dream run. Saahil, Arpit and Sachin got qualified. Audi, Arihant, Kishore, Ravi and Shukla were disappointed like me.

People grabbed the opportunity to put me down. I was no less than an untouchable. I knew then that only six hours of IIT-JEE can make you a Hero or a Zero. To curse God was of no use as She already blessed me with wonderful failures. I surrendered myself to destiny that played a new game with me.

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13++ Class Series 83

VALENTINE’S-1

JSSATE Noida. The best private engineering college of Uttar

Pradesh. Destiny made me reach a place much closer to Smita’s college than I ever thought. I was then at my Mausi’s (mother’s sister) home in winter vacations. The vacations were ending when I finally made up my mind to do something.

‘Mausi, I can’t live without her,’ I said. ‘Does she love you too?’ Mausi asked. I told

my story to her long back, still she was skeptical. I didn’t wish to indulge in the tiresome process

of plucking the petals of an unfortunate flower to decide-

She loves me, she loves me not! ‘Not 100% sure,’ I said. ‘So you aren’t sure?’ Mausi taunted. ‘Does she

have a boyfriend?’ Mausi asked the scariest question for any one

sided lover. I shook my head to show the height of optimism.

She must not have any boyfriend. ‘I have many spy agencies- my friends.

According to their updates she isn’t seen dating anyone.’

You are a very good boy. It’s all infatuation. Her words reflected that she had no boyfriend. ‘So what are you planning to do?’ Mausi

asked. I was always forced to swim in the stream

K.O.T.A 235

of questions whether in IIT-JEE, AIEEE or real life.

‘I think I have very less time and so...,’ I said and paused.

‘So?’ Mausi asked excitedly. ‘So I should propose her on this Valentine’s,’ I

said. ‘Are you so sure that she would accept your

proposal?’ ‘I don’t care whether she accepts it or not. But

I’m getting positive vibes. She taught me the right definition of real love.’

‘Do you know where she’s at present?’ ‘HBTI Kanpur (best government college of

Uttar Pradesh),’ I replied. 13th Feb, 2007 We boarded at New Delhi Station in Gomti,

the popular train between New Delhi and Lucknow. It was horribly crowded. The peculiar thing about Gomti is its Chair Car facility. Since the journey is of a few hours it’s a novel way by which more persons can be accommodated in a single bogey. Sleeper bogey has 72 seats but in Chair Car there are 36 more seats. Even more persons were accommodated as the train belonged to a nation that breathes adjustment in every walk of life. The worst case unmasks its ugly face when the passengers who got reserved tickets in their hands find themselves in General Class bogey instead of Chair Car due to rush.

‘Where are you going Beta (Son)? Lucknow?’ an old lady sitting in front of me asked. I hate such wild guesses. Frame a question and then answer it yourself.

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‘We are going to Kanpur,’ Mausi said. And then the most predictable thing happened.

They started gossiping. Women will be women.

‘My two sons passed out from IIT Kanpur. My elder son was in its first batch,’ Auntie said with pride.

Talks make journeys small, especially when two such women talk at length. We didn’t realize that we had been eight hours inside the train, which was running two hours late.

I preferred trains over buses because of the toilet facility. Graffiti writing inside those toilets consisting of the most innovative and creative thoughts and figures can’t be found anywhere else.

‘Kanpur arrived. It’s time to deboard. Can you please help me with my luggage? Just two airbags,’ Auntie humbly requested.

‘Sure!’ I replied. Mausi carried our only suitcase. When Auntie

was about to leave, I traditionally touched her feet for blessings.

‘God bless you with great success.’ God…Bless me with Smita.

K.O.T.A 237

84

VALENTINE’S-2

I checked into a hotel on Mal road, about one km away from the railway station.

In India, there’s a partnership between the hotel management and the auto drivers. If you inquire about economical hotels from an auto driver, he will suggest you the name of hotels that are paying him some commission for that very suggestion.

Everyone was finally happy over the deal- the hotel management, auto driver and we.

We woke up at 5:30 A.M., the next day. Valentine’s day. It was no less than a Holi or

Diwali for me. Winters are chilly in Kanpur. The temperature

was about four degree C. The city was clad in a white dress of fog. Clouds challenged sun’s supremacy by completely filling the sky. Monkey caps were adorned by localites. We got ready for mission HBTI.

I was trying to be stylish and wore tight jeans and a collar T-Shirt that couldn’t protect me from the cold weather. But the fire of love that persisted within, acted as a heater for me. I wasn’t feeling cold at all. We were then in a tempo.

‘I have a surprise for you,’ Mausi said. ‘Really? What’s that?’ She took out a toy tray in which a man and a

woman were in a ball dance pose. At the bottom of it was written-

I LOVE YOU!

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‘It’s beautiful. But when did you…,’ I said and paused. I saw Mausi taking out two roses from her purse.

The perfect thing for your love on a day like that.

Soon I was near Smita with those roses in my hands. I knelt down on my knees to propose her and offered her the roses.

‘Are you serious? I think it’s infatuation,’ she replied to my proposal.

‘Infatuation can’t last for three years. All I know is that I love you. Do you love…,’ I said and paused.

She took one rose from my hand. ‘Every girl dreams of a boy who loves her like

crazy. And I’m fortunate to have one such. And I love that stupid,’ she said. ‘Keep one rose from my side as a token of my love.’

Unbelievable! She accepted my proposal! I was jumping in elation when all of a sudden I realized that it was the vibrating tempo that was hopping on its front tire.

The tempo dropped us near Agricultural College. It was just the beginning of a marathon walk. We googled for a sweets shop to buy some sweets for sweet Smita and her friends. Fortunately, we got one and we also had our breakfast there.

We then started our march past to HBTI. I saw health conscious people jogging. Some of them were on their morning walk. Most of them were septuagenarian. As we were marching ahead, the green ambience full of large and small trees, made the breeze even cooler.

K.O.T.A 239

85

VALENTINE’S-3

‘Do you know Smita?’ I asked a beautiful girl on my way. She nodded.

‘She resides in the girls hostel allotted to the first year. But it’s far. College would open by 10 A.M. You can meet her then,’ she replied.

My watch showed 8:30 A.M. I was desperate to meet her. To propose her in the college wasn’t a good idea. Girls hostel sounded romantic. I have already bunked my classes and was in no mood to get into another college.

‘Actually I’m in a bit hurry as I have come from a far off place,’ I said. ‘Can you lend me her address?’

‘First reach Chidiyaghar (aviary) and then you can ask anyone there,’ she said.

‘Thanks Beta (child)!’ Mausi said. I passed a smile to that girl and then we inched

toward Chidiyaghar. I had never gone to my own college’s girls hostel. But time made me reach HBTI’s girls hostel.

On our way we met another girl. Short, dusky and beautiful.

‘I came to hear that you are looking for Smita. Hi! I’m her classmate. My name is Snehita. Do you want her contact number?’

‘What?’ My jaw dropped down. Boys usually crave to get their crush’s number.

But when I was getting one–FREE, FREE, FREE, I didn’t feed it in my phonebook. I passed the favor to Mausi. Snehita gave her mobile

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number too, in case of emergency. And then we bid bye to each other.

For a long time we were traveling. I was an athlete but Mausi wasn’t. Females generally have lesser physical strength than males. After walking for three kilometers on foot, Mausi looked at me with a stern glare.

‘There are no cycle rickshaws nearby. Look Mausi! This is our last chance. We are doing this for Smita. She must know the truth that I love her and it’s no mere infatuation.’

Mausi nodded. We soon reached Chidiyaghar. The weather was cool and the serene greenery

made the journey pleasant for us. Government colleges usually have a good plantation that absorbs sound and greenhouse gases to make the environment pure and pollution free.

We finally managed to reach the covetous girls hostel. These are usually busy places. Girlphillic boys on bikes roam about with a hope that they would find sexy girls. But there, it stood like a silent villa.

I had that memento, my diary in which I had written poems dedicated to Smita and all her pictures in a paper bag. I planned that I’ll ask her to accept my proposal. If she rejects, I’ll handover all those things to her.

I saw a security personnel sitting outside. Guys envy those security guards who have the fortune of looking at girls, every time they enter and leave. I was supposed to make an entry in the register meant for guests. Everyone thought me to be her relative.

‘Is Smita there?’ I asked one of the girls.

K.O.T.A 241

‘Wait a minute. You can sit on this Charpai (cot),’ she said.

‘Smita...,’ she shouted. Smita was a treasure for me and so the event was a treasure hunt. All the girls were googling her. My eyes too did.

Then I saw a beautiful girl drying her beautiful long hairs with a towel. She was Smita. She looked like a beautiful queen. I thought to run away. But the power of my love stopped me. She came out. Mausi and I stood up as if for a standing ovation.

‘Smita. Me…Akash,’ I stammered. ‘I don’t recognize you. What’s the matter?’ What? She doesn’t even know me? She would kill me

if she comes to know my purpose. I would have sung- ‘Tune mujhe pehchaana nahin, Jaana main koi anjaana nahin’ (You didn’t recognize me, I am no stranger.) ‘I was in your batch and..,’ I elaborated. ‘Be precise and clear,’ she interrupted. I was losing confidence but I knew it was then

or never. ‘I have something that I want to return. A few

photos and this diary,’ I said. ‘Hey! That’s my photo. How did you get that?’

she asked, after looking at those photos. She looked so beautiful that I was struggling

hard to say those three magical words. ‘Please accept this box of sweets,’ Mausi said.

Smita took it unwillingly. ‘Who told you that I’m in HBTI?’ she asked

with an unfriendly look. ‘My college friend Abhijeet met you during

UPSEE counseling. He told me that you are here.’

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86

VALENTINE’S-4

‘Do you have any idea that I’m already engaged,’ Smita said.

I couldn’t believe it. Engaged? ‘Since when?’ I asked. ‘Since 11th grade and my whole family knows

about it,’ she said. ‘So what do you want? Friendship?’

‘11th? Shit! I…12th…Friendship? Yes, of course!’

She doesn’t know me? Whom was she lying to? I could barely digest that fact. It was the worst

moment of my life. Even failure in IIT-JEE was less stinging than that fact. That was THE END of my Choti Si (Short) Love Story.

I kept the roses back inside my bag and I LOVE YOU back inside my voice box.

‘I have to leave now. It’s college time. You can meet me after 5:00 P.M.,’ she said.

‘It’s a great idea. Okay,’ I said. Then she joined her hostel mates in an auto.

The driver was a lucky guy as he could roam a few kilometers with hot girls. But I was hapless and hopeless.

Smita was then busy with her mobile. I was gaping at her but she wasn’t looking at me. Love sucks! I shook my head in disbelief.

We were back in the hotel. There was a pin drop silence. A silence prevails both before the arrival of a storm and after it passes by.

‘Let’s pack up. It’s all over,’ Mausi said.

K.O.T.A 243

‘Wait! If I go back like this, I would never be a lesson for others. I need to do something,’ I said.

‘What do you mean?’ I told Mausi about my plans and then again we

were off. We forgot to have lunch. I bought one kg of grapes, not to impress Smita, but because I thought that after the tiring college session she would feel great to have them.

‘You want to meet Smita, right? Sit back on the Charpai (cot) and wait,’ the security guard said.

Many other hostel girls made their way into the hostel while we were waiting. Some smiled, some gossiped and the worst, some glared at me. Then Smita entered and went straight to her room. She came out with her friend. Mausi offered her the grapes and I started.

‘That diary is past. Forget about it. We can be friends. Why do you look so tensed? Cheer up,’ I said.

There was a drop of tear in Mausi’s eyes to see me sacrifice my love for Smita.

Smita smiled and again she frowned. The most abstruse equation on the earth is-

GIRLS= WHAT ARE THEY UPTO? ‘Friendship is not forced. We meet at some

instance of life and mutually become friends,’ Smita said.

But sometimes it’s planned by Her. ‘When we were at Gurukul you thought me to

be a coy,’ I pointed. ‘I didn’t have any time to frame someone’s

image while being at Gurukul,’ she said. ‘Let’s change the topic. Is there any robotics

club here?’ I asked.

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It was a step equivalent to hitting an axe on one’s own leg.

‘Did you make any robot?’ she asked. ‘Yes. But it didn’t function well,’ I said. Whom was I lying to? I left the project in the

middle. I never made a complete robot. It never functioned.

‘The white board one or else?’ ‘Sorry? What white? Yes, that one,’ I said, like

a stupid. Again a silence followed. ‘Didn’t you reply to my emails?’ That question

brought me back. ‘I don’t have any email id,’ she answered. ‘By mistake, I got your cell number. If you

permit me, can I call you or send you an SMS? Not often, as a friend.’

‘Snehita told about it. Okay…You can..,’ she replied.

It grew so dark that Mausi and I thought it better to leave. We bid bye to Smita.

I walked close to her. ‘One last question,’ I whispered in her ears.

‘Would you attend my phone call?’ She nodded. She was a bit surprised. We left for the hotel and on the next day, we

bid Kanpur a good bye.

K.O.T.A 245

87

VALENTINE’S-5

Back to my college. Smita was still an ambiguous figure in my

mind. Was she telling me the truth or was she avoiding me?

But the bitter truth was that she rejected me in any case. If Smita had a real boyfriend then he would have been definitely hunting for me by then. I sent an SMS to Smita.

‘How are you? I think I’m not bothering you.’ I thought to call Smita but ended up calling

Snehita, to ask about Smita’s mood. ‘Hello!’ I greeted. ‘Who’s this?’ Snehita asked in an unfriendly

tone. ‘Akash- the one who met you with his Mausi a

few days back. I guess you remember me now,’ I said.

‘Hey! Whoever you are, you will never succeed in your intentions,’ she said.

I was dumbstruck. She was so rude. I was angry, very angry. 9th COL- You try to impress her but end up doing things that make people call you crazy.

‘I’m not the kind of guy you are thinking me to be. I’m not a crazy. It’s not wrong to fall in love with anyone on this planet. I just called you to ask about Smita’s mood. That’s it,’ I said.

‘I felt guilty to hand over her mobile number to a stranger like you. And regarding Smita’s mood, I think she’s pretty upset with you.’

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‘But why? She said she would talk to me. She admitted she’s my friend. Then what’s the problem?’ I yelled. ‘Are you busy now?’

‘I’m in a Mall, busy in window shopping. You better ask her,’ she replied. Her voice turned friendly by then.

‘Ok. Take care. Bye,’ I said. ‘Bye.’ That same evening A call on my cell from a strange number. ‘Hello?’ I asked. Hello can be used to greet, ask

or daunt. That time I was guessing. ‘Manendra,’ a strange voice replied. ‘Who?’ ‘You better ask it from Abhijeet who told you

about Smita. And understand this clearly. No more calls and no more SMS to Smita,’

‘Okay!’ I answered. ‘It would have been the worst day of your life,

had your Mausi not been there,’ he said. He was wrong. It was actually the worst day of

my life. Presence of Mausi didn’t affect it at all. I knew who he was. But still I met Abhijeet in his room.

‘Oh! Smita had a boyfriend in 11th grade- Manendra. He’s a good guy. I wasn’t sure whether they are still lovers.’

‘When I fell in love with her, it was already an anniversary of her love with someone else. In the chess of love I was check and mate,’ I said and wondered.

I went straight into my room and took out my mobile. I called back Manendra.

‘Hello!’ he commanded.

K.O.T.A 247

‘Akash.’ ‘Oh!’ ‘Abhijeet told me that you are a nice guy. I’m

sorry for sending SMS to Smita. I regret of what I did,’

‘It’s okay.’ ‘God bless your pair. I always wanted to make

Smita happy. But now that you are already there and she’s happy, who am I to come in between?’

‘It’s okay, Akash!’ Finally I said what was in my heart. I would

have died spiritually if I would not have uttered those final words.

‘But I’m not sorry for I loved Smita.’ There was a pin drop silence for a moment. ‘We will meet some day in life,’ Manendra

proposed. ‘Yeah! For sure,’ I replied. End of that call. End of another chapter from my life.

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EPILOGUE-1

‘How can she be so rude?’ Tears were on the edge of her eyes when

Varsha said that. ‘God never plays dice. Whatever happens is for

good. The very word good has God in it,’ I said with a smile.

‘I would have cursed Smita. How can you still smile?’ Vipin finally broke his silence through those words.

‘She was never wrong. She was initially my inspiration and ended up as a lesson. Reality is weirder and bitterer than fiction. Nobody always gets what he wants. And there’s even more. Do you know the Orkut account of Smita was fake? And you won’t believe it when you hear the name of its creator,’ I said.

‘Who?’ Varsha asked. ‘Arpit, with whom I started my IIT-JEE

journey. He and his friend at IIT Powai made that profile just for fun. Arpit too had a crush upon her.’

‘Unbelievable!’ they both exclaimed. Her address, phone number and birthdate were not

mentioned since it was a girl’s profile. I was reminded of that line of my story. Actually Arpit never knew any of that data to feed.

I knew they both were upset because they expected a happy ending, especially in the chapter of love. All is well that ends well.

K.O.T.A 249

The discourse got over when the train arrived at my destination. Punjabi Uncle, Bengali Uncle and Varsha’s mom bid bye to me.

‘All the best Akash! Don’t worry. God’s great. Have faith in Her,’ Varsha said.

‘Good luck! Wish you a brighter future,’ Vipin said.

I bid them a good bye and jumped out of the train, landing myself on the platform thinking-

Picture Abhi Baaki Hai Mere Dost. (Movie is yet not over, my friend.)

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EPILOGUE-2

25 years later KOTA (Pretty different from a routine jump of 20

years in an Ekta Kapoor’s daily soap) ‘So what’s the secret behind Gurukul’s

excellent results? What is it that makes Gurukul peerless?’ a reporter asked.

‘It’s quite a difficult question. I find a Physics problem much easier to solve than to tackle a reporter’s question. Jokes apart. Gurukul owes all its success to its brilliant students. A day is not far when 90% of the IITians would be from Gurukul,’ Physics HOD of Gurukul replied.

‘You were honored with the award of the best teacher of the nation. How does this fact affect your students? Has it got a major role to play for this outstanding result?’ another reporter inquired.

‘I’m humbled by such awards. I was lucky to get it from my idol, Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam. But you can’t compare a teacher of Physics from a teacher of Math, Chemistry or any other discipline. The great thing about Gurukul is that everyone here is the best. Don’t forget Tayal Sir, RS and AG. They retained the crown of the best teacher for nearly 20 years. The whole credit of such awards goes to my students. Gurukul has revived the student-teacher relationship and I hope it remains eternal.’

It was easy for me, Akash Malhotra to give a long speech like that, being the HOD of Physics department in Gurukul. The press conference got

K.O.T.A 251

over. Those press conferences were a new trend in Gurukul routine. I was elected as the spokesperson of Gurukul and I knew my job well.

Government of India decided to honor teachers all over India since 2012 so as to boost them. It was a mark of respect for a profession that created future India. Government also established prestigious Indian Institutes of Politics (IIP) in 2020, which trained individuals in various disciplines of politics. Exams for IIPs were tougher than that for IAS. Indian politics was getting better as a result. Corruption and terrorism were already done away with and India emerged as a major power of the world in 2020. Dr. Kalam was the happiest man as his mission was accomplished. Caste system was still present to some extent.

I was driving back home. I bought 1-PA-90 from my landlord and made my own home there. My son of a bitch neighbor passed away in an accident. Kota was then New York of India. Skyscrapers filled its sky. Malls replaced the old shops. Heart 2 Heart, Seema Ice-Cream Parlour, Bits N Bytes and Gundey’s Modern Video Library were then shifted to Malls and charged exorbitant rates. Mallik was then part of the gaming zone of a Mall. The city was hit at times by floods. A special land was allotted for pigs so that city remains clean. The people from the slums were shifted to better households and their children got free education in Gurukul sponsored school. Tayal Sir, RS, SP and AG supported my thought of opening such a school. Dr. Vinod was then the Chief

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Medical Officer of Government Medical College Hospital at Kota.

Om Cineplex expanded. Bramha, Vishnu and Mahesh were new additions to erstwhile Satyam, Shivam and Sundaram. Kota Aerodrome was then an international airport. Gurukul became international by then. NRI students came in large numbers to Gurukul. Many students enrolled for distance learning programs. Gurukul also had a big library and night classes were a new trend. There were many more libraries in Kota like the one opened by Jain Stationers. Maheshwari Restaurant and Sangam became competitors by opening 5 star hotels. Sangam mess truly became international by starting Italian, French and Russian specials. Amar Punjabi Dhaba gained monopoly over fusion dishes like Paratha Pizzas. Annapurna restaurant was then a 3 star hotel with lodging facilities as well. Wheatos also made a remarkable progress. Mesonance had opened many more centers by then. Vital classes were still the best in Inorganic.

Saahil became an IAS officer and finally got married to an Australian. Johny founded a company that sold parts to Indian Navy. Plumbum joined Indian Air Force. Nilesh, as expected, was the general manager of a food processing company. Ankit joined ISRO to make nano satellites. Arpit was the automobile tycoon of India. PB founded a music company. LB kept on changing companies like a true maverick till he settled in a mobile manufacturing company. SB joined Tata Motors. Sachin became the mind behind Kota Metro Rail Corporation. Arihant

K.O.T.A 253

started an NGO against caste system that supported YFE. Begi was selected in the board of directors team of Indian Football Association, and Indian football team was then among top 45 in the world. Nilesh, Kishore and Naveen joined Infosys. Lakshya joined Maruti. Ashish was involved in drafting the currency policy of the nation. I always knew he made the best notes. Swastik and Sejal were joint owners of an oil company. Audi joined DRDO. Ravi was in Merchant Navy. I had no knowledge about Shukla, Mudit, Mayank and Hemant. Kanta Didi was still a house helper at my home and I gave her a handsome pay.

Preet was the only one who came back with me to Kota. He was the HOD of Chemistry department in Gurukul. I never told the reporters what actually was the reason behind the success of our students. Preet and I always told them what not to do. They automatically understood what was to be actually done. We gave lessons from our lives that transformed many. Rest was their hard work and good luck. The good thing was that even our own kids made into IITs.

Two days later Preet introduced me to an unknown face. He

had features similar to someone I had known for long. I wasn’t able to remember that someone.

‘Meet Mr. Shwetank. He has got some problems in Physics and Chemistry. My part is done. Now it’s your turn,’ Preet said.

‘Good morning Sir! I have some real problem in dealing with Physics. There’s so much work

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load. I’m not able to focus. Please help me out,’ Shwetank blurted out.

‘What’s your father’s name?’ I asked in suspicion.

‘Mr. Manendra Singh. He’s standing at the reception. Should I call him too?’

‘Wait a minute! What’s your mom’s name?’ My suspicion grew manifolds after Shwetank’s reply.

‘Mrs. Smita Singh. She’s at home.’ Preet’s jaw dropped down. I was

dumbfounded. So Shwetank is Smita’s son! I knew he’s no stranger.

8th COL- You try to figure out her characteristics in someone else.

‘I want to meet your dad,’ I demanded. Shwetank rushed to the reception center and

returned with a well dressed gentleman who had an air of confidence around him.

‘Hello!’ Manendra greeted. ‘Do you remember me? Wow! I can’t believe

my eyes. I thought we would never meet,’ I said. He was a bit confused. I knew he didn’t

recognize me. ‘I’m the guy, who met Smita at HBTI with his

Mausi,’ I clarified. ‘This is unreal. I can’t believe it.’ Manendra

was shocked. Shwetank was out of this. So he understood the least of Physics and Chemistry hidden behind our talks.

‘I’ll take care of your son. He will definitely get through IIT-JEE. I promise. My friend Preet too would help.’

Preet nodded. He knew he had to, anyways.

K.O.T.A 255

‘Thanks a lot. You are unreal. Even after knowing the fact that Shwetank is my son, how can you still help him? You are really great!’

‘It’s okay. I’m a teacher first and foremost. Shwetank is my special student.’ I smiled.

We both shook hands with each other and then we parted off.

One year later IIT-JEE had a new pattern. There were two

levels- an online SCREENING and a Personal Interview. The final results were declared. 60% of the selected candidates were from Gurukul and 80% from Kota.

Shwetank made it into top 1000. I was happy for him, for Manendra and Smita. I saw the trio in the felicitation function organized by Gurukul. Tayal Sir was very glad at the outcome. He blessed me and Preet. After 28 years (approx) I saw Smita. Nobody can forget his/her first love. I was happy that I followed the last COL. 10th COL- You will never divert yourself to a wrong turn while in true love.

I was surrounded by reporters all the way. Actually something happened that year that was history. A girl topped IIT-JEE. And she was an ST. She proved everyone wrong because she topped both levels. Her name was Varsha. She reminded me of the girl I met in Poorva Express.

Who says caste, gender and religion matters? Nothing is impossible. I knew it by then- Smita was not the Angel who kissed and changed my life. I got Kiss Of The Angel from my angel, KOTA.

Glossary

AIEEE All India Engineering Entrance Examination AIIMS All India Institute of Medical Sciences AIPMT All India Pre Medical Test APQ Additional Practice Question ASL Age Sex Location BF Blue Film BITS Birla Institute of Technology and Science BTH Beat The Heat CAT Computer Adaptive Test CBSE Central Board for Secondary Education COL Commandment Of Love CS Counter Strike DRDO Defense Research and Development Organization HBTI Harcourt Butler Technological Institute HCV H C Verma HOD Head Of Department IAS Indian Administrative Services ICU Intensive Care Unit IIP Indian Institute of Politics IIT Indian Institute of Technology IP IndraPrasth ISRO Indian Space Research Organization IUPAC International Union of Pure and Applied Chemistry JEE Joint Entrance Exam JSSATE JSS Academy of Technical Education LOC Line Of Control MCG Major Chauhan Ground MI Mission Impossible NGO Non Governmental Organization NTU Nanyang Technological University OBC Other Backward Class OMR Optical Mark Recognition PG Paying Guest RDB Rang De Basanti SC Scheduled Caste SET Scientist Entrance Test SHM Simple Harmonic Motion SRK ShahRukh Khan ST Scheduled Tribe UPSEE Uttar Pradesh State Entrance Exam WTF What The Fuck? YFE Youth For Equality

Characters

AG Alok Gupta BD Bhawna Didi PB Prafull Bhaiya KG Kishore Gupta LB Lallan Bhaiya RB Raju Bhaiya RS Rupal Sunehra SB Sattu Bhaiya SP Shailesh Pratham

GURUKUL BATCHES (RANKWISE)

11th CLASS- APRIL BATCHES D1 to D5 E1 to E5

11th CLASS- JUNE BATCHES

F1 to F9

12th CLASS L1 to L4

M1 to M4 N1 to N4

REPEATERS (13th CLASS)

R1 to R10 S1 to S10