Monday, January 16, 2012

Days Of Being Idiots 3


Two months  passed  after our first semester examination. It came to our notice that Sid , HOD’s fondest student  , was no more visiting his room. The HOD was too not paying our room regular visits and no visit when Sid was in.
 
We asked Sid about this matter. ‘Nothing ’, he said.

We descended to badgering. ‘Nothing’, he repeated.

We gave up our trials, but confusion did not give us up that what really buttoned their lips. We concluded that Sid must have done something wrong.   What went wrong made its appearance before us, when we had only a week left for our second semester examination.

             Evenings are pleasant and dandy by their nature. But when the cool zephyrs of winter chill the bones of evening, when a sky with a waxing gibbous moon makes the evening’s wear a silver gown, when stacks of chit-chat in the open air makes the evening talkative and when there is cocktail to make the evening woozy, then to be taken in to the evening is just overwhelmingly blissful.

    And also this evening was the evening of Sid’s self-revealed and open-hearted confession. Confession may not be the appropriate word for him, but I am at dearth of words to find another.

         Four of us were there, in the playground behind our hostel. We unsealed the cans, lifted them up and cheered cheers.

‘No crap’, said imran. ‘The only thing I dislike in this world is lying. So no bullshit. Speak the truth. If that fucker has done something, just tell me. I can cut the HOD’s penis and feed it to the squirrels and that too in front of him though it does not matter.’ He flashed a big smile.

Sid started. ‘Usually I sleep late at night and you guys sleep before midnight.’  We nodded.

‘The specific night I am talking about, it was around 11. 30 and all of you were slept. I was loitering outside when somebody called my name. I discovered the HOD and got to his room. Often we used to sit and chat. He asked me if I would like to watch his favorite movie. I thought it ok. The movie was a big bore. After less than fifteen minutes or so, I started dozing. He was sunk in the movie, at times quoting me the extra-ordinariness of the scenes.’
Sid drank a big gulp. His face was not clearly visible. He cleared his throat.

‘I told that pig that I would better go and sleep. He provoked me to stay a while and try to watch. I was hardly able to keep my eyelids open. My head was waggling. I thought to take a nap for a minute. I closed my eyes. I did a colossal  blunder. I could not even know when this short nap deepened in to sleep.’ he puffed lightly.

‘I still remember that dream the way I remember my first… first bike-ride.’

‘Thank God. I thought you’d say, my first period.’, Imran winked at us.

 Sid continued, ‘I slept and reached place which had a big and ornate marriage-mandap,  all of my relatives , women with flower  swags adorning their hair and a shamiana . My father came and told me to sit on the mandap. I obeyed him. Only a part of the bride’s hand was visible. The rituals went on and the time came up for us to encircle the holy fire. When we stood up with our sashes tied, a shit-looking guy broke in. He was wearing a black jacket. A fraternity of guys with same looks came by him. They rested their bikes and the first guy shouted, “She is mine. Whoever comes between her and me, would be having her but not his balls. I will shoot them off.” He started walking towards me and whipped out a pistol and placed it behind my ear. Instantly, before my spit dried and my legs started shaking, I beseeched him to leave me. He did not care and pressed the trigger. ………………………  I woke up and in a foggy state, I found something uneasy. At first I thought, the dream was not over but then, I smelled the coffee …. and it was strong.’

   Sid intoned the last sentence. The rest of us were silent, anxious and greedy to seize the climax. Imran’s eyes looked bigger than usual. Sameer placed his ankle on my right shoulder and leaned on me.

Sid cleared his throat, sporadically .

‘Come on. Has a dick got in to your throat?’, imran yelled.

Sid threw a sidelong glance. ‘A hand was roaming across my belly soothingly, a hand with a lot of hair. I felt a twinge somewhere and discovered that something hard was pressed behind my back. As the hand moved downwards and touched my thing, I got off and turned around. I just stormed out of his room when he started apologizing. I came to our room and shut the door. ’  Sid took a deep breath. His face was a swarm of emotions.

Now this was stupefying, the wild story which would not have happened in our wildest dreams. I mean, we had heard about a thousand such incidents but they were purely heterosexual .we looked in to each other’s face and our eyes met. In a moment, our simmering silence embarked on a burst of laughter. We laughed clapping and patting Sid’s back, we laughed mimicking the last words of Sid and we laughed the amount tickling can never provoke. Sid’s silence eventually pulled us back. We glanced at him simultaneously with the surplus of smile arrested in the corners of our mouths. We could hear him breathing.

He broke the silence with a pout.  ‘I could not sleep that night. I never
imagined that somebody whom I had immense respect for, would do such a
thing to me. He is such an ass.’ his voice was a blend of several intonations.

The curtain had come down and we were realizing the other-than-laughing
aspect of the matter. What our seniors were shouting, was no more
enshrouded.   Before we took to give it more thinking, imran stood up.

‘I told you, he is a fox.’ he said glugging the drops of beer left in the can. ‘But
the fox would turn out to a gay, that was beyond my imagination.’

‘imran. Relax. It may be that he is not of that type and it is just a onetime
blunder.’, Sameer dared to intervene.

‘one   ……… time………. Blunder ’, imran shouted. ‘you do it once , you sheep-
fucker. I bet it’ll be your onetime.’  Sameer faded.

 ‘I do not know about you guys. I know, he is a sick punk and I am going.’
‘Where?’, Sid shouted.

‘To fuck the fucker.’ came the reply.

In a minute, all of us were on the way to hostel, in a quickened gait. We walked
 through the mixed scent of cashew trees and black berry trees. We reached
the main gate of hostel and call it the curse of luck or a mere coincidence,  Mr.
seth was parking his bike.

Now it took us less than five seconds to reach there. Our pent-up anger had
arrived before us. He looked back and before he would utter a word, imran
roared ,’tell me one reason why should not I call you a bastard’

He stood still. His brows even looked cranky. ‘Have your parents taught you to
speak to your teachers and people of your father’s age in such a filthy tongue?
Do not you have any ethos in you?’

‘Have you parents fucked you to outstretch your dirty lust after the students of
your child’s age whom you call son, when they are unconscious? That too
male, you motherfucker.  You are shoddier than a rotten aubergine.  Why do
not you do one thing? Why do not you go and fuck your son and grandson, if
you are unable to find room for your loony penis?’ imran squealed. Sid moved
to his left, now clearly facing the superintendent.

Only one word I have to describe it: hangdog, it was conveyed by his lowered
gaze, his pallid-white face and his trembling legs.  I will never forget the
definition of shame and guilt on his face.

‘oye, do not act like a senti. I know you close to my bone’, imran snapped. ‘Just
wait till the morning. The whole hostel would arrange a party. We would cut
your cock off and feed it to the famished stray dogs roving there.’ he ended
with a note of laugh.

It must have been around 8 pm. The HOD kick-started his bike  . The bike rolled
and before it could disappear, Sid whispered to us, ‘we will also chop his balls
off. The dogs are quite a lot.’

           Perhaps the exam’s pressure made imran rethink his plans and thereby
distancing all the dogs from the desert they would be receiving. The college
was also closed those days. During the exams, our eyes caught the HOD once
or twice. We did not get time for a face to face encounter.

After the exam, we spent the vacation at home. So and so, after a month when
 we got back, Mr. seth had quit his job.

I have not seen him till now. Sometimes it comes to my mind that he was
ashamed, he was afraid of losing his reputation and he did not have the guts to
apologize Sid. I wonder if there was any alternative to all of it. His plagued face
and blank eyes sometimes make me unhappy because I think, it was a onetime
blunder perhaps.

Whatever it might be, nothing but one thing changed; his name.  Still we call
him GAY HOD, ever and when he crashes in to our talks.

***************************************************************
 When I watched her through the corners of my eyes, she bit her lower lip and
flashed a genial smile. To think of her was like realizing the fragrance of
jasmine all the time. To watch her was like perceiving the softness of the petals
of jasmine beneath your feet. To watch her and think of her was like living in
the garden of jasmine forever.

 ‘So that is the story’, she said.  ‘It was not a bore.’

‘Is it supposed to be taken as a compliment?’

‘Yes.’

‘I am pleased.’

‘I liked the soup much more. I never knew guys could have such culinary skills.’
the smile was still bubbling up on her face.

‘I am skilled with much more things senorita, let the time take its course and I
will show you.’

 ‘I do not think I would have to thank you for giving me such a wonderful
evening.’ she spoke up, suddenly.

‘It will be my genuine pleasure to give you another.’

‘Some other day.’ She walked and drove off on her scooty, while I watched her,
consciously sad and confused. That was the least I could do for her and for me.