June 30th, 2007

Today Poker Boy left home late, late enough to miss the bus. Somehow he managed to get into one of our college buses. Even though we were not allowed to use routes not prescribed for us, he was let off by one of the very few kind hearted madams in charge of the bus. He reached the college. Upon entering the class, he would have toppled down by a stone. There is no wonder having a stone in front of classroom. Our college is very eco-friendly. We see a lot of things like, cows grazing our college ground, squirrels running across our classroom, crows shitting on our benches, bats flying around, chameleon scaring our classmates (me too!), dogs sharing lunch with us in the canteen. Our college management even boasts saying that their college is free from hassle and bustle of the city, very eco-friendly. Ok. Let’s leave college and return to Poker Boy. Though he did not fall, he did everything possible to lure gals at him. He even managed to make one or two to look at him. But they were interested only in the stone that stumbled Poker Boy.

Time was up for the first hour to begin, but mam did not make it to the class. We were talking, talking, talking. We made enough noise to invite BowBow to our class. The class became silent. He did not enter the class, fearing the students may not get up to wish him. BowBow barked something to us. Only God and he knew what he said. He ensured the class was silent. When he was about to leave the class, Man of Beauty screamed something at him that made us to laugh. This time BowBow entered the class and came near us. He wanted us to tell him as to who made the noise. We all were tight-lipped. In the meantime, he was searching for a scapegoat to showcase his heroism and found one. It was Poker Boy. He saw Poker Boy unable to control his laughter. He asked him to say as to who made the noise. Poker Boy with a grim voice replied, “I don’t know, Sir” Keeping in mind his Boss, he gave him one tight slap and immediately left the class. Had it been a scene in ‘Saroja’ the background music would have been from one of Illayaraja’s masterpieces in ‘Nayagan’. The whole class was shocked. Poker Boy just could not believe what had happened. What followed was totally the Poker Boy’s show. We all were noticing each and every move of him. He did not know what to do, so he did everything. When mam came to our class, he asked her to permit himself to go out to wash his face. Kichu imagining that Poker Boy left the class to give BowBow as good as he got said to us, “dei edhuku da avan veliya vitteenga”. Scientist answered back “avan moonji kaluva poraan da”. The news did spread like a forest fire in the college. Everyone was talking about BowBow’s cowardly act. At the end of the day, Poker Boy became a hero. What he could not do in the morning happened in the evening. Not only gals, everyone was looking at him with great awe.

June 30^th, 2007 is the day that made Poker Boy the hero. Today Poker Boy is celebrating his Second Anniversary. We all wished him on this very auspicious day. If you have not, please do it. He’s waiting...

What's Nxt?

Graduation completed. What’s next? People have started asking. They were asking when we completed high school. They asked, me when we were doing our college. They are asking us now. They’ll be asking even when we get something to do next. Why the hell they are worried? They are not even bothered to help us. We are not even bothered to give these people a slightest glance, but still they ask, ‘aduthu enna panna pora?’

I know people who do nothing to better their position in the company, do nothing to better them. I know someone who was a clerk, when I was doing, 5^th standard. A clerk when I completed 12^th standard. Still a clerk when I completed graduation. Had he ever thought of himself, he would have improved. So do you know what’s next for him? He’ll hang a name-board bearing ‘MR. WHAT’S NEXT, Retd. Clerk”. After some more days when we come across obituary column we see, “MR. WHAT’S NEXT, Retd. Clerk”, below his photo.

They say they care for us. They say they have a concern for us. Who on this earth are more concerned about us than ourselves. Who on this earth are as concerned about us as our parents?

We joined college when software industry was at a high. People were simply earning like anything. During those days, when my father and I go to supermarket, I used to look at MNC employees shopping. They don’t even care to look how much a thing costs. What they do is, just go around put everything that interests them in the basket. But now, everything possible has happened to make them know the value of money.

Most people ask what’s next just boast of himself or his neighbour’s relative’s tenant’s distant relative’s son or daughter. People ask, “What are you going to do now?” They don’t even care to listen what we say. They’ll start blowing their own trumpets.

The next reason why they ask is to kill some time. Let them pass time by warming the chairs, sofas and benches at home, staring at the TV, reading newspaper, anything and everything that does not disturb us. Why do they simply hang around us when we are so much mystified by what’s happening around us.

So, what I am trying to say is, when someone asks you what you are going to do next, just check if that person is worth to get an answer from you. Otherwise answer something else (spiced up with some holy words) and just walk off.

A DAY IN LH1

The High Class Boy was woken up by his boyfriend, as the bus was taken into college by the driver who doesn’t know where the brake is. He was not happy as his sleep was disturbed. He got down from the bus. He entered the canteen to have his breakfast. He could not resist the beautiful (only for him!) aroma of Pongal, his favourite. Nalla saaptaan. When he went to wash his hands, he saw Body Builder asking him, ‘ethana round da?’. He replied ‘only 4 da, kaasu theendhudichu!’.

Oru vazhiya LH1 kulla vanthaan. LH1 is the class for computer science students. One by one came in and the class got filled. The day begins with our mam taking attendance but not before asking, ‘Whether all buses have come?’ When mam was taking attendance, a voice came from outside asking ‘Excuse me mam’. That is Scientist’s voice. With a serious face (because it was Monday), he came to his seat. Scientist was sitting next to the boy having Hyperactivity Disorder called Sanku. He had a piece of broken scale in his hand. Asked him how the scale was broken, he said ‘dei vendam da, naan tensiona irukken’. Mam started doing her job. We started all our jobs, except listening to what the person standing on the stage was trying to explain. Our jobs include talking, daydreaming, playing, texting friends in the same class and also (school) friends, listening FM, reading newspaper, etc, etc and anything that prevents us from listening class.

In the next period Mobile Encyclopaedia had to take a seminar on Scenic Beauty of Delhi and Agra. He has qualities of becoming a great lecturer and that ‘obviously’ prevents him from getting a job in our college, when he completes his graduation. Our seniors, not being able to part with the college become lecturers leaving ‘six-figure’ salary jobs. Encyclo started his seminar with ‘a good morning to one and all present here’ and ended with ‘thanks for giving me this opportunity’. In between there was lot of action, literally. He was stopped by the bell for interval break. People would’ve heard of canteen having different dishes, but our canteen was a little special. They provide ‘same dish with different tastes’ every day, sometimes with more salt, less salt, over burnt, shapeless, trying all kinds of permutations and combinations. They’ve even patented the dish with International Food Corporation. Canteen is the only place where everything takes place. Birthday treats, gang wars, festival celebrations, everything, about woos and woes. Students, who fortunately battled out of the canteen unharmed, returned to class.

MahaLuckMe was the favourite mam of all the students. She understood the students’ mindset. She became one among us. We’ve never let her take class even if someday she decides to take. With her, we discuss about everything- campus recruitment tips, so called symposium, to name a few. We just could not forget the symposium season. We had one long (for our college management) week for preparation. For six and a half days, we discussed what should be the name of our symposium and for half a day there was actual work done not without sporadic altercations with other department students over ridiculous issues.

Lunch hour, sorry, lunch ‘half-an-hour’ is also an eventful period. Poker Boy waits for everyone to open their tiffin box, he then pokes his spoon in everybody’s food and he then opens. Poker Boy is the comedian of our class. Clashes between Deep Sun and Poker Boy leave all us in splits. When Deep Sun calls him using all kinds of holy words, some already existing and some tailor made for Poker Boy, everyone around him laughs including him to maintain his image among the distant girls who he thinks, always look at him. He boasts of himself saying, “naan la yaarukkum, orkut request anuppa maaten, avanga than anupuvaanga, naan la yaarukum phone panna maaten, avanga than pannuvanga”. (I’ve got a lot about him, thinking of writing a separate blog on Poker Boy). If it’s lunch period, then LongFella has a lots of work to do. After having his food, looks around for other’s food and then moves to canteen. Avan avulo saaptum, ...ceedee... madhiri aagamatendraan, ‘beedi’ madhiri thaan irukaan.

Afternoon classes began with a long bell followed by a long ‘yeppam’ by High Class Boy. The first hour was SOOPS. Our mam entered the class reading the book, continued reading for 45 minutes and left the classroom reading. Along with reading, she also did her excercise, which she could not do that morning, by walking ‘AROUND LH1 (50 TIMES, IN ALL POSSIBLE PATTERNS) IN 45 MINUTES’. For anybody who disturbed her reading, she said, “naaliku nee vandhu seminar edu”. The next three periods were lab classes for us. After a long battle for chairs and systems everybody settled and switched on their systems. By the time we logged on to our system, after a series of troubleshooting operations, there was power cut. In the next two minutes everybody was in the class sweating, trying to beat the heat by oohs and haas.

After sometime, suddenly the whole college building was silent. I could hear the sound of a pen dropped by someone in the first year block! ‘Aayama’ came for rounds signalling the students not to talk (if possible, not to breathe) and ‘ordering’ mam to silence the class. The time has come to welcome the one man army, Captain Prabhakaran, General Musharaf, and Adolf Hitler, all in one. He stormed into our class, adjusting his glasses, looking at the board. On the board it was written NP- COMPLETENESS PROBLEM. He advised, looking at the mam through the gap above his glasses, “mam, neenga example problems ellam solve pannunga, excercise problems’a home work’a kudunga, yes!” He asked us, “how many absentees yesterday yes?” Nobody stood. He was surprised and asked, “no absentees yesterday yes!” We answered him “yes”. Not believing us he said, “no no no, yes!, I’ll check with the attendance and come yes!”. He left our class with his pendulum walks, after entertaining us. The day was over when the bell rang followed by our class gals’ 100 metre dash to their buses. Kichu always had this doubt as to why they do so.

Assignment transfer (Kichu has done a Ph.D in this discipline), searching for their respective persons of interests, wishing bye to non bus travelling (school) friends are some last minute activities.We returned home everyday regretting why we had joined the college. But if it was not for our friends we got, the college life would’ve been as disgusting as reading a forwarded message from Poker Boy!!

D I S C L A I M E R

ALL THE CHARACTERS IN THIS BLOG ARE IMAGINARY AND ANY COINCIDENCE TO REAL LIFE CHARACTERS IS UNINTENTIONAL.