Ragging (part 2)

Sonu is my nickname.

 I was surprised by my father’s remarks. He had never had an opportunity to study at a professional institute. His words made me feel emotional but at the same time I felt overburdened by my family sins.

Suddenly, I didn’t know why my hopeless family was searching for hope through me.

“Ok Papa,” I nodded, although I knew I would not follow any of his instructions.

But I said this to stop him from repeating his old refrain. That day however, he was unstoppable.

 “Now all the family glory is in your hands and lastly...,” I felt relieved on hearing the word ‘lastly’ from him, ‘…Remember, beta, you are my brave son.” With those inspiring words, he left for Rihand Nagar. His last words bewildered me.

Why would he call me his brave son? That evening at around eleven, I entered the common room to find many new faces.

I met Arvind.

“Hi, I’m Arvind Chaubey, computer science. I’m from Rihand.”

“Hello buddy, I am Ajay. In electronics, from Rihand Nagar, NTPC colony,” I replied.

Arvind frowned, “Just Ajay?”

“Oh, it’s Ajay Pandey.”

In a place like Allahabad, surnames matter a lot. People may forget your first name, but not your surname.

We both exchanged a halfhug, or to be more precise, a manly hug. The sense of belonging to the same place seemed to have brought us closer instantly.

Before I go on, let me introduce all my hostel friends since their names will come up time and again:

Arvind Chaubey: We both came from the same town. He was a simple, but often irrational man. Love and girls were all Greek to him. He was heavy set and we thought of him as a clone of Salman Khan.

Gaurav Singh: My roommate. He was cheerful, talkative, confident and confused at the same time. No one dared to talk to him as it meant only listening from the other side.

Dipendra Singh: I hate to say it but, he had been my junior at take to next line St Joseph’s School and he was a master at talking to girls with no hesitation. Sometimes, I felt he might have committed suicide if IERT was a ‘boys only’ institute. He was almost six feet tall, thin, smart and, yes, handsome, too. Because of him, I realized that looks matter a lot.

 Sorry friends, but that is my description of you guys. If any of you are going to file a case against me, please remember: all the above characters are fictitious

. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Now I’m free to tear your undergarments, but you know the truth – I love you all.

At 11:30 p.m., I was lying in my boxers and was about to fall off to sleep. Suddenly, a group of half a dozen gregarious men started pounding heavily on every door, shouting like military men.

 “Everyone assembled in the corridors! Move! Now!”

The shouting was quite scary, but seeing everyone moving towards the corridor, I followed. We stood lining the walls of the corridor while the seniors stayed in the middle.

They seemed like dacoits and we shivered like poor villagers.

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