Operation Silvia!

Sarbudeen was apparently very impressed by the prank that I had carried out with Aravind, but he was morose for not having got any part to play in it. So, a month later, he said, 'Dei innoru thadava panlan da' and suggested Bivinlin's name. But I knew Bivinlin was a tough nut to crack and my perceptions were indeed right, he was on to our plot even before it started. I accepted defeat, but Sarbudeen wasn't disheartened, not by a long shot. 'Dei Sam irukan da' he said the next evening. I wasn't really in the mood for a prank that day, so I vaguely replied 'Venam da, bore adikuthu'. But Sarbudeen was persistent. I decided to comply only when he agreed to do majority of the work himself. He also came up with a brilliant story.

"Silvia is a pretty girl from class 12T. She is one of the toppers of her class and a good friend of Sarbudeen. She very recently requested him for Sam's contact number. So Sarbudeen (being a good friend) tells Sam everything good about Silvia and also sends him her contact, asking him to await her message."

Sarbudeen spun the tale to perfection and then asked me to get into the act.
'Hi Samuel' I said, from my mom's mobile (Sam didn't have that contact).
He replied, but I don't remember what, it must've been something mundane. We had a quiet chat that day, but in the day that followed I decided to hit the groove,

'I saw you at the entrance today, you looked so charming' I said.

His reaction wasn't that very scintillating. I tried saying other stuff, but he stayed glued to his I-don't-give-a-fuck act. Although, he would send me an odd forward every once in a while, forwards that he didn't bother sending to any of his other friends. The conversation got really dull over time, so I started curbing my replies. One fine day, I stopped altogether. I didn't think it would make any difference for him. 

Sarbudeen however, texted me a few days later and asked me why I wasn't returning Sam's messages. I bluntly told him that I wasn't interested. For this he started scolding me, trying to get me to play along, but my heart was just not in it.

The next day at class, I sat beside Sarbudeen and he asked me again, 'Dei en da avanukku reply panna matra? Avan romba feel aavuran da'. I gave out a throaty laugh and said 'Neeye paathuko da'. For which he said 'Nee than da ponnu, nee illana onnum panna mudiyathu'. I had nothing meaningful to reply him with.

Seeing that Silvia wasn't replying, a worried Sam had asked Sarbudeen about it. Now Sarbudeen, being a master tales man, cooked up yet another impressive story.

"Silvia got just 85% (EIGHTY FIVE PERCENT!!) in an English test that was recently held. Her parents, being the usual demanding type, took away her cell phone, wanting her to pay better attention towards studying."

Once I reached home that evening, I checked the inbox on my mom's cell (I hadn't bothered doing it for the past couple of days). It was full with Sam's forwards and other 'How was your day?' texts. The real reason why I wasn't returning his messages was because texting wasn't free of cost on my mom's mobile. I despised having to quarrel with her for blowing up the bills. So, I didn't reply for those texts as well.

A few days passed by and I totally forgot about operation Silvia. The only thing that reminded me of it again was Sarbudeen's text. He just wouldn't stop nagging me.

The next day at school, me, Sarbudeen and Sam, sat side by side on the last row, during the interval. I was lazily brooding over my first love and Sarbudeen, who sat to my right, was having a chat with Sam, who sat at the far end. 

'Naa avala love panren da' Sam said about Silvia (I wasn't paying attention to this though). However, Sarbudeen's roar of laughter brought me to my senses. He pointed his finger at me and said 'Adapavi ivan than da antha Silvia'. Sam's face grew pale in an instant, as he gaped at me. He swiftly turned his gaze away from us and hit the desk, covering his face. I and Sarbudeen had the laugh of our lives. I honestly hadn't contemplated Sam trusting our act, leave alone falling in love with Silvia. Sam's reactions fuelled our laughter beyond comprehension. He however, was deeply hurt. I felt bad for hurting him, but come to think of it, that was the point.

That evening, I had a chat with Sarbudeen again, 'Naa appave sonnala da, ava feel avuran nu' He said 'nee olunga reply pannirunthu avana innum konja love panna vechirukalam da...cha!'

That Rainy Rainy Day!!

It was a rainy day. The downpour was in fact so heavy that more than half the class absented itself. But it was the usual (aka. exciting) day for me. I set course to carry out my morning routine of procuring the Leader's report from the Head's office. As I made my way, I happened to come across Akshaya (Oh her grace! Oh that face!). I was in a daze, as I strolled back to the classroom. Now that I had seen her, I genuinely believed that the rest of my day would be a breeze, if not a let-down.

The first hour teacher must have taken a leave of absence herself, she didn't drop by. A PT teacher took over in her stead. He had nothing meaningful to say, so he asked us to submit our hand books. He said he wanted to check for our parent's signature on the previous day's homework reminder. Just about then, I realized I was a defaulter. Aravind, who sat to my left, was meddling with a pen in his hand. I quietly gave him my handbook and said, 'Parents sign pottu kudra'. Without much ado, he took the handbook and flipped to the previous day's column. He then started penning down his signature at the bottom. And now of all time, he decides to heed to every tiny detail. Before he could finish, the PT busted him. 'Enna panran avan?' he asked, gesturing towards Aravind, who quickly slammed my handbook shut. 'Enna parent's sign ah?' he asked, as he moved in to grab the handbook. 'Illa sir, vera oru edathula than eluthitu irunthen' Aravind lied. But it sounded pathetic. The PT clearly didn't buy his excuse, yet 'Entha edathula eluthuna nu kaami' he said, after having a short glance at the signature. Aravind then frantically searched my handbook, trying to find some sort of writing in black ink, but there weren’t any. If only he had used a blue pen, he would've had some sort of luck. However, he did find some black scribbling at the margins. But the PT saw right through his little act. He asked Aravind and me (yes, he read the name on the handbook) to accompany him to the Head's office. That's when Aravind started weeping like a bride who just lost her husband. I panicked myself, but not anywhere as close as him. 

The head's office was (to our appeasement) empty. The only person there was Malathy Rayan. The PT reported us to her and quietly made his way back to our classroom. Malathy started enquiring us, we didn't try to deny anything, Aravind's sob however, was winning us her favour. She then took hold of both our hand-books and asked us to retrieve it later from Mr. Muruganantham. An overwhelming fear hit me as I heard his name. I knew for a fact that he wouldn't be remotely polite in dealing with us in the matter.

We were back in class and Aravind still didn't stop crying. Everyone had a wonderful time admiring his dismal state. I too would've, if it weren't for the trauma that I was in. I gradually recovered from it though.

It was Tamil hour next and Vijayakumar sir walked into the room. He noticed Aravind weeping (not that he was trying to hide it) and started questioning him. Aravind found it hard to speak with all the emotions choking his throat, so the others helped him with it. 'Nee nalla payan aache, nee en apdi panna?' Vijayakumar asked. Aravind had nothing to say. I felt relieved to see him not pointing fingers. 'Naa avanga kitta poi unna pathi nallatha solren' Vijayakumar boasted, as always (But he did nothing). We boys, being too few in number, occupied the last row for that hour. The class began and a short while later, Vijayakumar cracked a nutty joke. Someone made a loud funny noise, trying to humiliate him. The outcome was an infuriated teacher. With a belligerent tone, Vijayakumar asked the culprit to reveal himself. None responded (obviously). He asked the same a couple more times, still no luck. As his best guess, he then picked out Sarbudeen, Samuel and Mahizan. Those three sat to my far left, so I had no real idea of who actually did it. Bringing his so called investigation skills into play, Vijayakumar individually called each of those three out on to the corridor, starting with Sarbudeen. A few tense minutes of inquisition and then it was Sam's turn. Mahizan followed soon after. 

When it was all over, Vijayakumar walked in with his head held high, he apparently figured out who the culprit was.He called Sam forward and spoke in a soft tone, 'Naa appave surrender aaga chance kuduthen, but nee kekala'. Sam tried to protest, but before he could finish his sentence, Vijayakumar landed six vigorous slaps on his face, three on each side, special delivery from hell. Sam made no fuss whatsoever about it as he stuttered back to his place. However, he didn't take his hands off of his cheeks for the next couple of hours.

The interval arrived and we all gathered around Sam, curious to know if the slaps had hurt. 'Dei innumum valikutha da' he said. We couldn't help smirking. We then had to turn our thoughts towards more pressing matters. How do we get our handbooks back?

I and Aravind faltered towards the head's office again, but there was no one there yet. We were exasperated. The wait would only worsen things up. But thank goodness Aravind had stopped crying.

Hours rolled by and it was evening before we knew it. We stood in front of the heads office yet again, but Muruganantham sir was nowhere to be seen. However, we did find TamilVaanan sir idling outside in the corridors. We confronted him with a casual façade and asked, 'Sir, our handbooks are in Muruganantham sir's cabin and he is not here. Ummm...can we take it?' We tried to not give him any insight whatsoever of what happened. 'It's ok, you go take it' he said in his breezy voice. I was finally able to ease my tensed muscles. Before Muruganantham sir could return, we rummaged his cabin and found our handbooks. We then ran for our lives. When we were at a safe distance from the head's office, we both heaved a sigh of relief.

I am glad that day is over!

The Mount.

The vivid images of our visit to Kerala were still so crisp in memory. I found myself reminiscing as I lazily made my way to college. My cell phone screen lit up as I got a text message notifying me that classes stood cancelled as a result of the recent down-pour. And just then, when I was about to make my way back home, Nanda cajoled me into meeting up at college.

We both sat at Ragavender's room, enjoying a movie. Suhail got a phone call from his girl and so he decided to part with us (Good riddance!).

Movies weren't really doing justice to the marvelous climate that loomed overhead, so we decided to take a walk. We had a little snack at the canteen and then bought the Record-Notebooks that Ragavendar needed (It was already the end of semester). As we strode back, Ragavendar exclaimed 'Semma climate da! Trekking pona super ah irkum'. He has always been the one to come up with such fascinating ideas. We readily agreed. We were on our way to St. Thomas mount.

We bought our train tickets and the travelling turned out to be a total bliss. The cool breeze buffing against our faces had our legs afloat. We disembarked and had to cover some ground before we could reach the hills. I wouldn't say the stroll was pleasant in anyway, but Ragavendar ought to have had a wonderful time, after all, walking is second nature to him, he could walk as easy as he could breathe, he could walk all day without shedding so much as a drop of sweat. 

St Thomas mount happens to be a hill that stands overlooking my primary school. As I strolled through the streets with the well acquainted buildings on either side, I was hit by a nostalgic vibe, I felt like a child again. Ragavendar, who was guiding us to our destination up until then, seemingly ran out of directions. But I knew that place like the back of my hand. We had no troubles reaching the hill. Though I couldn't help noticing how everything around me had shrunk since the last time I laid eyes upon them. Maybe it was just me who grew bigger.

Climbing the footpath to the hill-top was no easy task (except for Ragavendar of course). We were dowsed in sweat by the time we made it. But it was all worth it. The view from the top was nothing less than spectacular. We moved to a spot where we could let the winds invade every nook and cranny of ours. We took a couple of pictures of ourselves (maybe a few more!) and then went on to rest our butts on a grassy slope which held a Runway in sight. We had already had a fair share of seeing Air-crafts take off and land, so we didn't really give them much notice. We hardly carried any money, so buying anything whatsoever was a clear red sign. We had no need for it any-ways, we already felt as if we had all the luxury in the world. Ragavendar handed me his Record-notebooks and asked me to put a cross on it (If you don't already know what it is, you will shortly). If he were to get the records signed this late in the semester, he obviously needed a lot of blessings, and what better place is there to seek it, than in a church? 

Then came this time when Nanda asked Ragavendar to take a picture of him as he ran, but Ragavendar was so horrible with a camera that the picture he snapped caught Nanda in the most awkward of all positions. It was a good laugh, but Ragavendar continued to torment us with his photography skills. There was only so much we could tolerate. We finally made a decision to never opt him to be the one behind the camera, ever, unless of course, we were left with no other choice. We spent a couple of hours idling away in peace and then it was time to leave. 

Walking down hill was a real pain as well. Gravity was no friend of ours. But Nanda came up with an idea that we later called 'The breaking system'. We arched our spine backwards as we walked down the slope. This way we got the leverage required to keep us from speeding out of control. The only down-side of this technique is that it made us look like pregnant women. Oh well..!

The train ride back was a breeze as well. It was over-all a perfect day.     

The Friend that never was.

It was year 2009. I don't exactly remember why, but I sent Aravind a text message. He replied saying 'who is this?’. Only then did I realize that he didn't have my contact, but I knew for sure that he had my mom's number stored under my name. My eyes went ablaze as I sensed the opportunity.

'I am Abi', I said.

'Which Abi?'
'Abi from your class'
'lol, who Abi?'
I got really frustrated at this point and I mindlessly replied, 
'Dei naaye, Abirami da'
'Oh, Hi'
What the... how did he not smoke me out for that? Any-ways, now that he acknowledged my fake identity, I was exposed to a world of possibilities. Later, he asked, 'Who gave you my number?'
'Raj Kumar' I said, making a mental note to later ask him to play along.
I then sent Kishore, Bivinlin and Gowtham a text each, asking them to suggest me the name of girl, a classmate, around whom I can spin a tale. I also notified them about my attempts to make a fool out of Aravind. They sent me a name each, but none rang a bell whatsoever. So I selected one on my own. After a few minutes of mirthful confabulation, I was certain that Araba was genuinely falling for my trickery. When the time felt right, I said 'A girl from our class is so madly in love with you'. His reply didn't take long to come by. In fact, none of them did. But if it were me or some other boy that were to text him, it would've taken him a lifetime to respond. 
'OMG, who?' He asked.
'It’s Raasi'

On learning this, he started dowsing me with all his exasperating exclaims. I had to bear with them all. We then chatted till nightfall, nothing intimate though, I had decided to save them all for the next day.

It was a fabulous Sunday morning and I woke up with a spring in my step. And guess what? Araba had already dropped me a message. I wanted to spice things up that day and so I asked my friends to send him a text which contained something like…
'Dei Raasi unna love panralame?'
He obviously asked them how they knew. They just blatantly replied that Abirami had started exchanging texts with them too. And Of course, he enquired the same with me (Abi), but thank goodness he didn’t linger on that topic for too long. To add even more Drama, I sent my mom's contact to Araba and asked him, 'Do you know whose number this is? He keeps nagging me with all these texts and he doesn't even reveal himself'
In no time at all, I got a reply,
'lol, it's Sanjay'.
There, I somehow managed to bring myself into the story.
'But how did he get my number...?'

'Dei Abirami ku text panriya? Ava number epdi kedachuthu?' Araba's message flashed on my Mom's cell.
'Gowtham kuduthan da' I said. (I also replied to the few other questions that he later asked).

Enacting my script kept me so preoccupied that day, I hadn't been that busy in all my life. I had to simultaneously text Araba from two different mobiles and also had to keep my friends posted every now and then, they were hungry for news. I later took my mom's cell out of the scenario as it proved to be too much to handle. However, Araba was relentless in asking me all those crappy questions like, what are my favorite colors and this and that. I was inclined to reply (psst!). But I still craved for the day to be even more exhilarating. So...

'I have a huge crush on a boy from our class' I told Aravind.
'lol, who?' he asked.
'Samuel'
I hadn't got to know Sam as much as I would've wanted to by then, so I was having second thoughts about bringing him into the scenario. Anyways, it was already too late to take back what I said, so I decided to play along with it.

'What doing?' Araba asked me that afternoon. It was a very pleasant evening, a perfect time for romance. So I said 
'Just fantasizing a duet with Sam'

'lol, carry on', he replied.
Knowing my school, where objectifying a girl in any way is punishable by death, if the real Abirami were to know I misused her name, and if she were to file a complaint with the school authorities, I would certainly have to face suspension. The thought of it made a chill run down my spine. I wanted to take all possible precautions, and so I told Aravind 
'Just because I text you, it doesn't mean you are free to come talk to me'
'lol, I have never had a conversation with you, why would I want to do it now?' He said.
'Good' 
That went really well.

It was dusk and I was sprawled in bed with my earphones on. Araba sent me yet another text,

'Hey I lost your contact number, call me once so I can store it'. To help him with his pesky problem, I gave him a call and quickly cut it off before he could answer.
'What did you just do?' he asked. Only then did it hit me that I'd been made a fool of (I still can't believe I fell for that stupid trick, It must’ve been because I was so involved in the day’s events). I didn't know what to reply, I was stranded. Araba sent another one,
'I didn't know you were this stupid'.
For this I had an appropriate answer,
'If only you knew how stupid you really are!', I said.
He didn't understand what I implied (Of course not, how would he?).

The hour was getting late and I had almost reached my messaging limit. I had just one more free message left in my pack. This is when Araba asked me 'Shall I tell Sam about all this?'

Hell no, moron. 
'No, please don’t' I said.
That drained my message booster. But the faggot replied 'lol I already called him, he knows'. It seems so juvenile to think of it now, but I almost had my heart in my throat when I read that text. I swore under by breath will all profanity and then, not minding the charges, I sent him another text.
'What did he say?'
'lol, Nothing'

I was anxious at school the next morning, as I briefly narrated the weekend's events to Gowtham. I also kept chanting silent prayers for Araba and Abirami to not converse with each other on their way to class. When Araba laid his eyes upon us that morning; he went straight for our feet, saying 'Dei yaaru kittayum antha matter ah sollathinga da' (I heaved a sigh of relief). It felt so alleviating to know that he didn't screw things up for me. Later, Sam entered the class, headed straight for Araba and they started hissing to each other. Bivinlin (who arrived a short while later) joined me and Gowtham, and we started cracking jokes together. I don't exactly know what Araba filled him up with, but Sam stood up from his place, glared at all three of us and blurted 'Ithukulam ivanunga than da karanam'. Sam almost made me believe that he despised being adored by a girl. Such acting!

Once the bell rang, we were lined outside the classroom, preparing to head to the auditorium to attend our cycle tests. We didn't fancy having any loose ends in our play, so we struck up a conversation with Raj Kumar and asked him to lie to Araba about giving Abirami his number. One tiny mistake we did was to not heed the presence of Araba right behind us.

And that is how our perfectly good plot came to an end. And that is the day since when we started teasing Aravind with Raasi.

lol.

Hail Baba.

It was the official start of our final year of schooling. Thanks to the generous hand of the transfer students, we had already earned a reputation as an unruly pack of mongrels. We were well aware of the jeopardy that we would land ourselves in, yet we overlooked the need to curb our incessant chattering. Little did we know that we would have to pay a hefty price for all our recklessness, for in came the Destroyer, a man hell bent on bringing us down to our knees.

Life was good at Velammal, but then Mr. Ramesh Babu walked in through the doors.

A grim faced thin man with darkened eye sockets and pronounced cheek bones strode into our classroom. An eerie silence fell upon all of us. The looks of him gave us an escalating sense of foreboding. He started moving around the room, like a ghost in the wind, curiously tailed by our unwavering gazes. A few moments passed by in excruciating silence and finally the man, who gave us the impression of a psycho killer, coughed out his first words to us.

I strained every last muscle in my body trying to put off the impending laughter. Sam and Gowtham's muffled snickering from behind wasn't really helping. The man, with all his belligerent looks, sounded like Alvin and the chipmunks. But thank goodness! Our snorting went unnoticed.

He carried on avidly, describing about himself, about how he is the new Vice Principal of the School and about how he is the worst possible teacher that one could ever have. Just about then, when I was feeling a surge of relief for not having him as my tutor, he informed us that he would be assuming the role of our new Math teacher from that moment on. My heart sank in despair. Having someone as moronic as him for a teacher, I could very well give up my hopes of scoring a centum in Math. By the way he spoke of it; he had no greater knowledge about the subject than I did. I could almost sense that he would put us to ruin. It was by all means inevitable.

I found it hard to digest all these horrendous turn of events, but Sriram wasn't the least bit concerned. Unfortunately for him, he had to face the wrath of the Serpent as a consequence. ‘Dei Dog’ is how Babu addressed him.

We knew we would have to put up with the Snake for an entire year; we embraced ourselves for the rough ride.

Baba was the weirdest of all the Math teachers I've ever had. He would at the very most, solve a single problem each hour. At such a staggering pace, it would've been no surprise if it had taken us seven lifetimes to go through the entire syllabus. Though it was easy to comprehend his teachings, his methodology had me worried sick. He spoke about centums as if they were a stroll in the park. According to him, even a kid could do it, provided it has his tutoring. He looked like a man on a mission, but i just couldn't bring myself to trust him.

Coaching classes weren't really meant to nurture the entire class, but the serpent forced it on us. Of course we were free to walk away, but we knew better not to. His stern gazes warned us of the nightmares that he would bring upon us if we were to bunk them. He made us oblige to his every command. He made us realize that a man in power is capable of doing anything.

Teachings aside, there was a lot of other stuff that Baba did, that helped keep our tongues rolling. Whenever he got too tired of working out math, he would put everything apart and start reminiscing. He would take us back to his time and describe to us what a failure he had been. He almost flunked his high school board exams and in order to save himself and his parents from the shame, he had convinced his family to flee the neighborhood. He had then put all of his thought and actions towards getting into a reputed college. After months of mental strain, his perseverance paid off and he cracked the entrance exams of MIT, chrompet. But once inside, he went astray again. He bunked classes, roamed about town and went to spectate cricket matches when he ought to be preparing for his semesters. His grades were a disaster. He had to watch all his college mates fly away to far off countries, while he was spanning the streets in search for a job. In due time, he realized Teaching is the only choice he had left, but that too didn't come by easily. He had to face harsh criticism at every step, but he started learning from each of them. He had started learning how to survive.

Babu's stories were always interesting, they helped us take our minds off of daily proceedings and more importantly, they reminded us that our lives were only just beginning. 

Babu had one simple rule- obey me or be destroyed. Every once in a while he would ask us a simple math question, like 'what is a straight line?’ We would tell him the answers we know, but none of them would gain his approval. He would tell us the description in words of his choice and would order us to write them down a hundred times. It wasn't that stupid a technique; I still remember every imposition he had us do.

We all became regular coaching class students, we attended each and every one of Babu’s classes, except this one time when we took him for granted. But we had to suffer the consequence when we tried to attend the coaching class the following day, he wouldn't let us in. What was worse is that he ordered us to go back home. We would've gladly excercised his command. But we knew Babu had a twisted, conniving mind. If we were to leave, he would take that up as a reason to torment us in the future. In a short while though, he had a change of heart and let us in (phew!).

The extra classes did help us get to know a lot about him. This one time Babu punched Surendher in the chest, who, with moist eyes, went on to describe it as A One-Inch punch. Another time, when Naveen sundhar wronged a problem that was assigned for us, Babu said a legendary phrase that will forever be inscribed in our memory 'Enna da Baadu mathri sum potruka?’ Babu was our hero. But Surendher went on to complain about Babu's atrocity, to his dad, who later gave Babu a visit. Rumour has it that Babu almost peed his pants that day. Another dignitary of the coaching classes was Sriram. In the time it took us to revise both 10 and 6mark problems assigned to us, he would complete one quarter of only the 10 marks. Calling him a slow poke would be an embellishment.

During the special classes, Babu would train us only in a few hand-picked problems. With other teachers usually being the ones to prepare the questionnaire, there was always possibility that those select few question might not feature in the paper. But we had no need to fear. As cunning as he is, Babu would use his authority and modify the paper for us. Other Math tutors started sending forth their students to request us for those select questions. We were free to order them around as we pleased. Babu made us feel like kings and queens.

We were making the usual commotion one afternoon and Muruganantham sir stepped in to shut us up. He gave us the usual piece of advice and then started straying off topic, to Babu. He told us that almost every relative of his perished since the time he joined the school and that Babu hadn't yet been blessed with a child. Not to mention the wad of health issues that had accrued in him. He also quoted Babu saying 'romba kasthama irukku aiyya'. His narration was so saddening that we had to literally blink back tears. Our perspective about Babu changed since that day.

The Board practical exams were being held, and Jayagopal was struggling with his experiment. Babu walked up to him and drew out a small sheet of paper from his top pocket. ‘Enna da, venuma?’ he asked as tried handing over the ‘bit’ to him. I mean who does that? Babu made Jayagopal shit bricks that day.

The Final exam preparations were hectic. We put all our faith in Babu as we started preparing for only those 50 or so problems that he hand-picked for us. If his predictions were to misfire, we would curse him for the rest of our lives. But it didn’t.

Babu is one of those few teachers whom I really respect. He is our Destroyer.

Amma Laptop.

We stared down at the feedback slip in our hands with a malicious grin on our faces. We had received our free laptops a few days ago and now we were asked to comment on it. Our minds were going astray, we knew very well that the feedback sheet would have to go through SPS, and that he wouldn't consider turning us in as an option. Moreover Arivu had already commented,
‘Ellame free ah kadaicha, aen ulaika vednum?’
He was our biggest inspiration. So after not much thought, I pulled out my pen and jotted down, ‘Vaalga valamudan’. I seriously have no ideas why I penned down that quote. Then it was Vishal's turn, he snatched the pen away from my grasp and scribbled down, ‘Beauty’ (A Synonym for our most loved... in fact the only loved Math teacher, Mr.Prabakaran). Nanda strained his forehead, trying to squeeze out something catchy, he came up with, ‘Amma'vukku nandri’. After all, she is supposedly the one that got us the laptops. Suhail was void of any such ideas, so he copied Nanda, almost word for word, ‘Ammamma Vaalga’.

We knew SPS would set out on a quest to find us once he lays eyes upon our scribbling. We were half hoping for it to happen sooner rather than later. 

We were in the midst of a wide eyed slumber during the Computer Architecture lecture the next day, when SPS came about knocking the door. Suhail as usual had absented himself from the day’s classes, so it was just us three. SPS read out from a list of names and asked for us to gather in the neighboring room. To our surprise, Nanda's name wasn't read out. But we knew for sure it was a mistake. There was no way he was sidestepping from this. 

We gathered in the adjacent lecture room as requested. SPS called forth each of us individually and started inquiring our stupidity. There were a lot of girls in the gathering too, but their crimes were not as notorious as ours. Dinesh was called for, I tried to pry on their conversation, but SPS was as always, inaudible, but I was able to ask Dinesh what he'd written once he was sent back. 'Company laptop ah iruntha nalla irkum'. I couldn't help smirking. Then it was Vishal's turn. I could see him straining not to giggle at what he'd written. SPS gave him a whitener pen and asked him to edit the comment (Dinesh had been asked to do the same). After him, it was me. I stood, looking down upon SPS as he sat on a bench. He pointed at my comment on the feedback sheet and asked,'enna pa ithu?'. I had already rehearsed my answer, 'Sir, Vaalga valamudan is tamil for thank you'. I didn’t even care if I was making sense. I was hell bent on trying not to laugh. Breathe, breathe. After hearing what I had to say, SPS glared at me at first, then his features broadened in amusement. That's it, I burst out laughing, I couldn't help it any longer. What was bad is that I couldn't bring myself to stop. SPS didn’t appear to be getting furious, so I took time calming myself down. Then I apologized to him and started changing my comment. Only then did I remember that I needed my laptop's serial number to complete the feedback. But I had already discarded the cartridge in which the laptop was presented. So after enacting a phone call home, I filled in a random number, it wasn't that hard. Just about then, my eyes stumbled upon two other comments. Ramesh's row had the entry 'Dheivame!' and Gowtham's had 'very worst' scribbled beside a few dashed out words. Both those feedbacks had everything to do with us. We had seen an opportunity and had pounced on it. Ramesh was unaware of our comment and so it had been left unaltered, but it was obvious that we weren't that lucky with Gowtham, for in he had already stroked out Vishal's comment on his behalf, 'Parappalavu Sirithu'. Nevertheless, he was called forth for his edited comment (Actually, everyone who hadn't given 'good' for a feedback were asked to gather). All was well. 

SPS had stayed calm, until the part where he hadn't read Arivu's comment. He then started fuming. 'Nee laptop ah return pannidu pa' he said. Arivu maintained his composure and sat next to SPS and started explaining things rather seriously. I don't know what he cooked up, but SPS didn't take long to let him go. Later, when everyone's turn was over, it was Nanda's time to face justice. Vishal helped summon him and then it was the usual routine. We both stood outside the threshold, smirking at Nanda trying to explain himself. When it was all over, we headed back to class together. It turned out to be a Marvellous day, one that will forever remain etched in memory. 

If our faculty advisor were anyone else other than SPS, we wouldn't have dared to risk doing anything as such. We did it because we firmly believed that he would always treat us as one of his own. This is one memory of him we would cherish for eternity. We would remember him as the professor who would stay calm even if the world was to end in a few hours.

       

An Incredible Vacation - IV(day 1)

God's own country- the place must be something beyond the ordinary, if not, a name as such would be very inappropriate. The countless appraisals about it time and again had made me very curious. I longed to see for myself if the rumors were true.

After spending more than a year with little more than a shred of hope, the approval for an Industrial Visit greeted my senses. I was in seventh heaven. The destination, Kerala.

I was surrounded by an ear splitting shriek when the coach, which was named and which carried us 'Legends', roared its engines to life. The noise was so loud that I wouldn't have heard myself think. Each and every one of my batch mates screamed their lives out in joy. I gave it my best efforts to pump up the decibels. The wheels of the tour vehicle were slowly set into motion. My dreams were on the verge of being brought to life.

Dancing commenced the moment we hit the roads, despite the words of advice that had been given by our HOD. As much as we respected her, we wanted to make this trip memorable. We were not getting another chance like this. The so called 7.1 surround sound and the party lights pumped up the adrenaline. The boys were all over the place, taking turns shaking to the music. The ‘Monisha’ song got the privilege of kick starting proceedings. Saravana and Nanda kept yelling instructions at us to sing along, we gladly obeyed every word of it. The song was hilarious. I gave out a hearty laugh as we chanted along. The occasional ‘Wow Whoow!’ by Dinesh kept us amused. The song that followed stepped up the tempo and all hell broke loose. Vishal started dancing like a mad dog driven crazy by lost love, Kishore wriggled and wobbled in a style of his own, Naveen Raj kept himself occupied by constantly shoving Vijayakumar towards Abisha, Gnana Prakash performed his infamous drunken dance, Arun partied as if he couldn’t care less about the world and Suhail was quite a revelation; his dancing proved to be as good as his voice. Inspired by a few lads from the above, the rest started trying to bring out dance moves of their own, which kept getting weirder by the minute. The weirdest of them all being Shyam’s multiple waves. But none cared about weirdness or stupidity as long as it was fun. It truly was a moment to rejoice. We sang and danced together like we didn't have a care in the world. A few moments passed by as such and later a massive cheer shook the walls of the coach. The girls started dancing. It was a view that none of us wanted to miss. Our eagerness to line up for the best view said it all. The girls would’ve hardly found a better audience, our gaze at them was unwavering. Saravana found himself transfixed at the sight of Swetha starting to disco and Srini got a memory that he would probably cherish for a lifetime, as his gaze got lit up by Sivaranjini, who swayed so elegantly. Kavitha and Ayesha came up with a good display and then there was Medhuna. She kept going over the same dance move again and again like a broken record. It was a treat to the eye, nevertheless. A gorgeous late evening sky  and a lot of other greeneries were presenting  themselves for our view, but we didn't even spare a thought for them. We were preoccupied by the marvel that the girls presented with their dances. I even noticed a few jaws dropping on the boys’ side. 

The dancing continued into the night, until everyone exhausted every last ounce of energy. The bus halted at a restaurant and we took our time reinstating our energies. Many of our voices started to take a deeper tone due to all the yelling. But we had to embrace it, the enjoyment was only just beginning. The travelling resumed and it was time for movies. Everyone leaned onto their push backs and enjoyed the comedy. The hour started growing late, but sleep greeted only a few- those few who had gotten used to sleeping over night travel. The rest were squirming and shifting restlessly in their seats. I finally got some shut eye, but was woken up a few hours later by the girls’ incessant chattering. I was frustrated on being deprived of sleep, yet it was heartening to see my friends share the same fate. It had only been a few hours since we'd had dinner; nonetheless we decided to munch on some snacks for apparently no reason at all. The bus halted for a second time to refuel. We dismounted to have a glass of hot chai and on returning I found myself dozing off into a dreamless slumber.

I was jerked awake, as the bus drove on a rocky path. The cool breeze of dawn gushed against my face. I lazily peeked out the window and had my first glimpses at the lands of my Goddess. It was as marvelous as it had been described. There were wondrous landscapes lined up for as far as the eye could see, they were all of awe inspiring beauty. The place looked so serene and pleasing that I could’ve admired it for eternity. A mountain range, with its peak covered by puffs of vapor, lined the horizon and to complete the picture, the sky assumed a tint of grey, making the view all the more spectacular. 
Everyone started waking up; a few hadn’t even slept properly. A low buzz of chatter started filling the bus. I started looking around and my sights fell upon a few girls who were up and walking. To say that their morning faces looked ugly is a gross understatement. Not wanting to look at their appearances again, I fixed my gaze in the opposite direction. I mean, we boys were born handsome; we would’ve posed no such threats. 

The first day was to be spent at wonderla. We had planned to reach there at about 10 a.m., after having freshened up at a hotel. But we were way behind schedule, so the plan to cleanse ourselves at a hotel was put down. The news about the delay hadn’t ruined our moods as yet. We were having a good time listening to melodies that started to greet our ears. It went well with the serenity that lay outside. 

There was another break in journey and we got off the coach to refresh ourselves at a local lavatory. We then contented ourselves with a morning snack, as there were no hotels nearby for a proper breakfast. It was about 9 30 in the morning by the time we resumed travel and wonderla was still a long way to go. We had gotten tired of music, so we decided to take a shot at another movie. We did the usual cheering when something of our interest popped up on screen, but we soon got restless. We waited and waited, but wonderla was never to arrive. We searched for Satish hoping he would reassure us, but he was too busy tending to the girls, especially Abisha. He was clearly getting on Arun’s nerve. The waiting put our persistence to the test. Many broke down to swearing. And after what seemed like an eternity, we stood at the gates of Wonderla. God! I felt so relieved! Most of the boys got their knickerbockers on even before the journey had commenced, and the rest used the little space in the coach to suit up.  We entered the amusement park with a massive cheer and started exploring the various fun rides that inhabited the place. But misfortunes played their part and our gang of four found itself severed from the rest of the lot. It was still a spectacular day to remember. 

The ride that got our day up and rolling was named Wonder Splash. Shyam, Satish and Smasher had tagged along with us, but unfortunately for them, the ride was only to be taken in fours. We had to leave them behind as we hopped on the log raft that was at the ready. It slowly rattled up the rails and steered into a dark cave. We began screaming even before the ride showed us its share of thrills. The raft then plummeted at a rapid pace into a pool of cool water. For a moment, we were engulfed in a ball of crystal clear liquid which later soaked us to the last inch. It felt exhilarating. We wanted to have another go, so we mounted the raft again and made sure to yell a lot louder than before.

We then started walking on paths chosen at random, looking for other fun filled rides, but we were late, all the good ones were packed. Just about then, our eyes stumbled upon the landscapes that surrounded Wonderla. It was a stretch of pure wonder. But we didn’t hang around much to enjoy the sight. We had a lot more fun waiting for us. As we moved on, we noticed Srini and some of our other batch mates amongst the horde that waited for a ride on the roller coaster. We waved at them and then started wandering the place to see if there were any vacant rides at all. Suhail took notice of the Swaying ship and started pestering us to ride it. But we three are not big fans of rides that turn a man inside out, so we let him to it and headed to the water coaster. The coaster would’ve been pretty dumb if it weren’t for vishal. It was a wrong choice for a fun ride. Shortly after the ride ended, I found my cell phone as wet as a water log, in my pant's pocket. It was dead for all money. I disposed it into my backpack and started looking for Suhail. We got together and planned to explore all the water rides together. But Vishal gave us the slips and Nanda was hesitant to get himself drenched. So it was just me and Suhail doing the exploring. Nanda agreed to take snaps of us while we were at it. 

First, we headed for the fun glides. The slides were about three storeys high and quite steep. We crossed our arms over our chests, as instructed, and slid down at a pace so remarkable that we reached the bottom in no time at all. We then climbed the ‘Fun slides’ building again and reached the Pendulum. The ride was designed to be taken in pairs. The slide on this one looked a lot steeper than the one before. Once our turn arrived, we mounted an inflatable and waited as the metal underneath us started to tilt to aid our slide. But strangely, our float seemed stuck in its position. The attendant gave us a nudge to propel us forward, but he over did it a notch. We rocketed downwards almost as if in free-fall, screaming our lungs out. The fear of tipping off the edge made us yell even louder. Thankfully, we were still in one piece when the ride ended.

Next, we stood in queue for Turbo Sphere, which had the same setup as the pendulum. Suhail took the front seat and I sprawled at the back. We were then thrust into a deep dark tunnel that swayed and turned as we rode along. The droplets of water buffing against our faces elated my spirits. We shot out of the tunnel and entered a circular motion in a colossal tubular structure- a fitting finish. The ride was most certainly a one to rejoice.

We were unwilling to part with the water rides, so we had a go at it again and again until our tummies lurched in hunger. We four then grouped up and strode towards a restaurant. Every item on the menu boded massive expense, but we didn’t flinch. Having no plans to curb our expenditure, we ordered almost all the non-vegan delicacies available. They were properly served to us with a plate of- what looked like- lemon rice. We were expecting biryani. We made a mental note to never again buy biryani anywhere in Kerala and started to dig in.

With a repleted stomach, we strolled in search of more rides. The 3D theatres were out of bounds as our clothes were still drenched. Our attempts to sneak in were in vain. A coaster of some sort fell in sight. We decided to ride it as it too had to be taken in fours- an arrangement that we most gladly welcomed. Once we were strapped in place, the ride began with a painstakingly slow ascend to the top. I and Nanda hung on for dear life as were at the receiving end of the ride's wrath. The carriage that started wobbling and twirling as it moved along its rails. And by the time the ride ended, we were hungry again.

The Skies that remained gloomy all the while, finally broke out into a drizzle, which later intensified into a cool shower. Having been dowsed already, we had no need to take cover. Suhail went on to ride yet another tummy turner as we three looked on. This time, he had Gnana Prakash for company. I kept urging Nanda to try the Turbo Sphere with me. I believed it to be a ride that none should overlook. And after my relentless nagging, he gave in. It was Turbo Sphere time, one more time. 

It was then time for a swim. I had looked forward to it, but once I was in the proximity of the pool, I realized that it was infested by a nauseating amount of chlorine. I forced myself to let the opportunity pass and went on to snack at a nearby cafeteria, while Suhail and Vishal spent their time merrily splashing the torrents. Nanda and I had each other for company. We had our plates full and the sights of gorgeous looking pool-side women gave us little else to contemplate. To add to the exuberance, a cool breeze brushed against my face with all its elegance. I remember saying to myself ‘This is the Life’ 

We then literally dragged Nanda to the roller coaster which was weirdly housed inside of a building. Snaps were being taken time and again to capture the expression of every rider. We ourselves were in a dire need for a photograph to flawlessly depict our incredible time at the amusement park; the coaster came as a mere blessing. We hopped on the raft and after the usual bellowing; we saw an end to the ride. The picture came out a lot better than we had expected, but Nanda’s head was out of sight. We took on the coaster anew, wanting to satiate our craving for the perfect click. 

We walked out of the coaster building with a couple of photos in hand. They had everything we asked for, they impeccably portrayed our mirthful excitement. We then noticed most of our batch mates gawking at a ride called ‘The Twister’. Even if I were awarded with a lifetime supply of food, I wouldn’t have dared risk a ride. It reminded me more of a torture device that can be used to twist and turn the life out of people. Just the looks of it made me nauseous. I saw many of my mates throwing caution to the wind and boarding the ride. A few, obviously, threw up . I heard rumors that Boobathy Bagan sir embarked that monster, twice. Now that is what I call teen spirit!

After having our fill of seeing people throw up, we decided to bid adieu to the park. The already dim sky was darkening, and we were reminded of our curfew. On the way back, we realized that we had time enough for one more ride, a 3D theatre. It was just like watching a movie clip, but something kept poking our backs every now and then and there were bubbles and intermittent gusts that helped us dry down. The ride wasn't a total waste of time.

We strolled back to the entrance, waited a while for our batch to group up and then headed to the exit. The day was indeed remarkable, but it was not yet over. Once outside, we started taking multiple snaps of ourselves. Caught amidst all this chaos was Shyam. He became the eye of attraction. Every girl wanted a pic with him and the guy was so generous that he let them have it at a moment’s notice. Music and movies kept us entertained on our way to the Hotel. Shyam had managed to sprain his ankle, thanks to his jolly time at the pool. I pointed out a few warm up exercises to help loosen him up. But everything Shyam does gets a ring to it. His stretching, which I guess intentionally, was so much in synch with the song’s tempo that it roused a massive applause. I could see that, for the first time, he was basking in all the attention. I could see that he was happy. 

After a short ride, we reached the hotel. Toting our hefty bags uphill to reach the inn exhausted us. A few prolonged minutes and later we lay sprawled on the cozy bed at our room. A warm shower got rid of our crankiness and then, ‘Where’s food?’. We had to run a mile cowering from the cold droplets of rain that patted against the back of our heads to reach a decent restaurant, where we found Venkat and co savoring their supper. Having in mind not to bar our expenses we ordered all that we could eat. It was a fabulous meal. 
After all the fun and excitement that ranged through the day, sleep wasn’t that hard to come by. We were propped up in bed, chatting like old ladies and before realizing it, I was on the shores of dreamland.

Marina

It was the eve of a Friday. Me and my friends, Nanda and Ragavendar, boarded a train and headed towards Ritchie Street, hoping to retrieve a camera we had given there for repair. We carried enough money to settle the expenses, and a few extra bucks that would come in handy if we built an appetite along the way.

We got off the train and journeyed on foot towards the shop. The walk was long and tiresome. Our hunger levels started crossing wildest expectations, but we were bound to keep our desires in check. We had a job in hand.

We paid the camera guy his wages and had about 200 Rupees to spare. Surely it wasn't enough to feed the three of us satisfactorily. We were as hungry as a bear. With a mighty effort, we tamed our raging tummies. We had to. We had other plans in mind.

Ragavendar had suggested that the seashore would be a wonderful place to spend the evening. It also came with plenty of food stalls. I thought it was a brilliant idea. We started heading towards it once the job was done. The walk back to the station exhausted us, but we managed to board a train somehow.

A short while later we were on the shores of Marina. It was a little before dusk and a full moon glorified the evening sky. It was a marvellous sight, but it took little of our notice. We had something else pressing our minds, Food.

We were very careful in spending the little money we had. We thought of buying a two litre bottle of Pepsi, but that would have dented the budget and left us with no money to eat. So we contented ourselves with a bottle of cool water. We then started strolling on the loose sand towards a food stall that lay ahead of us. The cool winds wiped the perspiration off of our foreheads.

We ordered a plate of bhaji for each of us and gobbled it down like a pack of hungry dogs. We ordered a few more, but our appetites grew insatiable  We soon ran out of money and had to force ourselves to stop. The only money we had left was for the journey back.

We then decided to move closer to the sea to have a clear view of the torrents. Night time had fallen upon us. The moon had the whole place dimly lit. The breeze grew stronger as we moved forward and a beautiful sight awaited us. The moonlight was so intense that the seawater glimmered in it, forming a patch of light on the tides. It almost looked as if there was a highway laid on the seas. I have never seen a view as such. We lingered near the salty waters for a while, admiring the scene. The shore that stretched to left of us appeared as if engulfed in fog- with yellow lights, from the food stalls, emanating from it. The winds from the ocean were making our times memorable.

Later we sat on the sands, a few feet away from the water, took a collective deep breath and eased our muscles. Even if I had been alone at a place as such, I would have had a good time; being with my friends made it better. We had the usual chit chat, passed jokes, laughed and had the time of our lives. The occasional gusts delighted us. A kid approached us with a tin of snacks and pleaded us to buy some. We weren't able to get him to leave, not until we promised him that we had no money left. We had a good laugh about that too.

An hour passed by as such and it was time was for us to bid goodbye to the shores. We dragged our heavy footsteps away from the beach and parted ways, promising each other to spend another evening together at the waterfront in the upcoming future, only next time, with a lot more money.

NightFall

The break of dawn has a soothing breeze, that calms the senses, and a warm sunshine that so often lifts the heart. But we tend to forget that nightfall has its own share of delights.

Every once in a while, there comes a day filled with so much nonsense that, at its end, my mind finds itself in a turmoil. At times as such, the star studded night sky has always been the one I look forward to for comfort. 

Lying on my back, on the grounds of my terrace, I dreamily gaze at the dots of light glimmering in the infinity and heave a sigh of relief, as my pent up stresses begin to melt away. There are hardly a few things that are more beautiful than the night sky, and occasionally, the full moon grants its presence, like a crowning jewel, making the view all the more spectacular. And one thing that comes as a topping to all this divinity is music.

Plugging in to music helps rule out all the exasperating noises that attempt to distract me from admiring the spectacle. A melodious tune works wonders each and every time.

Time flies by with no notice and when the hour gets late, I am left with no alternative but to drag myself down the stairs. But once it’s all done, I always end up with my spirits lifted and my mind appeased.

     The Gods of the night sky will always have my gratitude.

Possessions

There is always something that comes by in your life, time and again, that you dream to possess. Possessiveness, as we know, is human nature.

During my schooling, at the time when cellphones were becoming popular, I had an obsession for this particular song that I heard over the radio. I wasn't able to strike the tune off my mind. It kept lingering on and on like an old saying. But I didn't know what movie it featured in, so the only way I could listen to it was through the radio if and when it was played. I would spend hours in the evenings tuning in to different stations, yearning to hear that song one more time. I wasn't always left disappointed. The song would eventually present itself. But the movie name was unclear. It took me a few more days to finally figure it out.

I then requested my Sister to download all the songs from that movie onto my Mom's cell phone. I eagerly awaited as the downloading was yet to reach its completion. The song had something very unique about it that made my inner self levitate. I'd been so much at peace with myself whenever I listened to it and in a short while it would be mine, all mine. I would be able to listen to it as I pleased.

Once I had the song with me,I plugged in my ear phones and hit the play button, waiting for that feeling of bliss to spread within me again. But this time, there was nothing, the song felt empty. At first I had no idea of what went wrong, but later I figured it out. When I had been listening to it on the radio, there was a possibility that it might be the last time that I get to hear it, it might never been played again. At the least, It might take me a few more days to listen to it once more. Such thoughts made me value the music. I would live and breath with the tune for as long as it was played. The outside world would hold no significance to me for those few minutes. But now, things changed. I had it in my possession and realized, for the first time, that things remain beautiful or stay interesting only as long as they stay far from grasp.

One thing I could've done at that time was to delete the song files and to go back to listening to it on the radio, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. A part of me wanted to cling to it even at the expense of losing its worth.

Possession ruins beauty and more often it diminishes Love. But possessing is all we try to do.