My blog is now 4 years and 45 posts old. So far, I have
written about an assortment of people and experiences that have coloured my
life like tiny sprinkles on a cupcake. It has been quite a journey trying to
put on paper, as accurately as possible, things that matter to me the most.
Despite this, each time I sit back and admire my growing list of posts, an
irksome afterthought lingers in the shadows. ‘Why have I not acquainted my
readers with those 5 crazy people who have played a pertinent role in the story
of my life?’, I ask myself. I cannot come up with a good enough excuse. It is just one of those things that I have unwittingly taken for granted. But not any more. Especially since I have come to realize that it is taking me more than the usual amount
of head scratching to recollect things
from the past. Turns out, my memory is just as volatile as dry ice. Bits and pieces of it will
inadvertently dissolve into foggy nothingness. It
would be a terrible shame to allow glimpses of kaleidoscopic
personalities to fade into oblivion just like that.
And so, for the purpose of chronicling, here is an attempt to cram all the awesomeness of a 12
year old friendship into one post.
A cotton t-shirt pulled over khaki shorts, earphones
stuffed defiantly in each ear, cell phone (a very rare and sought after
commodity in those days) dangling lazily from a belt loop, Raybans perched on a
tiny nose and the constant rhythmic sound of a piece of chewing gum being
mercilessly chomped into a shrivelled, juice less mass – this is what I remember
of Pali’s first appearance at the
gates of our hostel almost 12 years ago. From the moment her freakishly small
feet hit the premise, all semblance of sanity was wiped clean. It was as if a
mischievous elf with a rich repertoire of pranks had sneaked in and was
gleefully wreaking havoc. From emptying the contents of the salt and sugar
shakers in the dining room and filling them up with mud to getting back at an
annoying room-mate by pasting a rather obnoxious skeleton sticker right in the center of her dressing table mirror and from setting someone’s hair on fire to
spilling an entire bottle of oil on another one’s bed – Pali soon became known
for all the weird stuff that went around in the hallways and dormitories of our
once peaceful abode. There was never a dull moment with Pali around. After 9pm
one could find her displaying her prowess at Ludo or egging the rest of us into
helping her put up a hammock across her bed or hatching a plan to scale the
seemingly indomitable walls of the
hostel simply to go buy dozens of chuskis
for the night or tricking us into doing her assignment for her (I still do
not know how she talked us into doing that)....and on and on go the fables of
Pali’s antics. Even today, her overtly elfin characteristics befool people into
thinking that she is all about tomfoolery and horseplay when actually she is
much more than just that. Ask her for advice on a serious matter and she will
dole out just the right amount of sensible suggestions. There is always one
person in a group who has the ability to defuse situations and crack even the
most foul tempered person up. For us, that would be Pali.
My most favourite Pali moment - Time spent with her on clear
summer nights when not a worry in the world bothered us as we lay on our backs
, gazing at the millions of shiny stars glittering in an inky blue sky while
occasionally sipping Badam milk from
glass bottles.
Tashi ma’am - What do I write about someone who is known far
and wide for her ability to strangle people till their eyeballs pop like ripe lychees. Just when her victims are about to
give up on believing that they would ever breathe again, she releases
them and breaks into peals of laughter so intense that tears stream down her
cheeks. However, at the risk of losing my own voice box, I have decided to
record, for the first time, the life and times of Tashi ma’am. In her heyday,
Tashi ma’am was one of the most dreaded seniors around. Minions like us could
be seen scampering helter-skelter for fear of being chanced upon by her. Those
poor souls who weren’t agile enough to find a hiding place in time would then
be systematically subjected to severe
ragging, chores galore and the choicest of ridicule. Despite all this though,
there was something extremely endearing about Tashi ma’am which charmed even
those whom she tortured. Her inability to read and comprehend even the most
basic Hindi, her pledge to make the hostel warden’s life as miserable as
possible, her absolute black and white theory about people (she either likes
someone or completely detests someone) , an undying enthusiasm for chasing and
burning mosquitoes one by one with a piece of inflamed kachua chhaap, a penchant for long aimless scooty rides (Tashi
ma’am, if you are reading this, you know what I am referring to - wink wink), a
sadistic streak which becomes apparent each time she yanks unsuspecting friends
out of their warm cozy beds on Sunday mornings and forces them to accompany her
(empty stomach)
on uphill hikes - and many such peculiar traits make her one of a kind. Over a
period of years she has brought defiance, alcohol, night-outs, trekking
expeditions, dirt biking on our scooties and other random yet important things
into our lives for which we are all truly thankful.
My most favourite Tashi ma’am moment – Wednesday mornings at
the hostel. The paramount importance of securing a plateful of egg bhurji and
bread for a fast asleep Tashi ma’am
before breakfast hours were up & the kitchen was closed. A task even more significant
than eating our own breakfast or getting to college in time or perhaps even
breathing.
Joti, the
youngest of the lot, became part of the group quite by accident. You see, she
was hoodwinked by our cunning warden into moving to our dormitory by convincing
her that Pali was an artistic genius, Mini and I were conscientious scholars
and Arry led the life of a monk. I like to believe that this little lie on our
warden’s part changed Joti’s life forever (hopefully in a positive way). Now,
Joti is one of those people who unwittingly do things that
are hilarious. For instance when she sleeps she reminds me of Count Dracula
lying straight as a ramrod in a coffin with his arms neatly crossed on his
chest. She also nurtures a bizarre expertise – that of being able to kill rats
with just one well aimed blow of her slipper. Most of these rats seem to die of
a heart attack (made evident by the look of utter shock
on their dead faces) rather than the impact of the said slipper. For a while
Joti and Pali shared a room in the hostel. Those were the days when they
bickered like a middle aged married couple. Everything ranging from the mess in
Pali’s half of the room to the fact that Pali apparently turned a deaf ear to
most of Joti’s college stories sparked innumerable comical arguments (each
argument had a lifespan of anything between 2 days to 3 months). All of this
was massively entertaining for the rest of us as we sat on the sidelines and
enjoyed the daily drama. All in all Joti is a bundle of fun because she has a
commendable ability to casually brush off all the puns directed towards her and
continue being involved in all the legendary escapades . Gate crashing an
unknown wedding in an equally unknown city during my bachelorette party or
sneaking into the common room late at night to catch forbidden episodes of ‘Sex
and the City’ – these stories wouldn’t have been half as juicy if Joti wasn’t a
part of them.
My most favourite Joti moment – The time Joti badgered us
into watching her favourite Hindi film – ‘Kal
Ho Na Ho’ – in a rickety back alley theatre which offered only rock hard
wooden benches for us to park our backsides on. Amidst extensive catcalls from
a thoroughly tapori audience and a display of kitschy
dancing LED lights garlanding the screen, we sat through the painfully over-dramatic ordeal. Later, of
course, we had no one but Joti to blame it all on and she never heard the end
of it.
Arry is like a fluffy white cloud floating
peacefully in a clear blue sky. Woes and worries afflicting lesser mortals do
not seem to ruffle her feathers. There is only the
thought of one eventuality that can perhaps bring a furrow to her brow - the fear of waking up one day to find no
hair framing her pretty face. Over years this delusion has made her experiment
with several nasty smelling ayurvedic
hair oils which have the ability to wake even the dead from their graves. By
devoutly believing in the virtue of being the slow and steady turtle that she
is, she has earned herself an apt nick name - Slowry. Try rushing her into
things and she will probably give you a dazed half interested look.
Nonetheless, every now and then she is up for a good adventure (or misadventure
in some cases). A friend who is brutally
honest (ye tere haath itne mote kaise ho
gaye, mooch oog rahi hai teri), a friend who stayed up an entire night to
video chat with me when I was friendless and jobless in a new country, a friend
who has lethal bony arms that can cause some serious physical damage, a friend
who can never seem to remember where she bought stuff from (arey kahin toh, kabhi toh, kisine khareeda
tha – Joti, you know what I am talking about), a friend who is now a model
Army wife (dutifully attending AWWA meets, Ladies club sessions, baking classes
et al), a friend who does not have a single malevolent bone in her body, a
friend who always has the time for a good heart to heart and a friend who has
proven to be a worthy accomplice when it comes to activities like sprinkling
Bournvita on people’s beds – that is Arry
for you.
My most favourite Arry moment – A day before a terrifying
exam. Buried deep under a cozy blanket you can see Arry struggling to keep her
eyes open. The textbook is propped at an odd angle in front of her. Suddenly
you realize that she has nodded off. Fearing that she would fail her exam
because of lack of preparation, you give her a worried nudge. She looks at you
with drugged eyes and blurts – “No, no I am not sleeping. I am just resting my
eyes’.
There is just so much that I can write about Mini that some
time back I decided to dedicate an entire post to her. 'This' is where you can
find it. As you would have already guessed (if you have read the tagged
post…READ IT if you haven’t!!), I have known Mini for donkey’s years. In the
span of these very many years, she has never failed to amaze or amuse me with
her anomalous ways. Things like sleeping
with her eyes wide open, making the most outlandish ensembles look tasteful,
being able to effortlessly spout strings of Hindi expletives, being violently
loyal (to the point of blowing her top off at those who speak ill of her pals and
then walking off in a royal huff) –
these are things that only Mini can pull off. She has always been my most favourite partner in crime and will remain my
most favourite partner in crime even when we are wrinkled, white haired, bent
and toothless.
My most favourite Mini moment – ‘So, you are hungry?’, she asks. I nod frantically like a famished street urchin. ‘Well, I have just the
thing for you. Take a slice of bread, drape it with a slice of cheese. Now, smear a generous amount of tomato ketchup on the
cheese and gently lay the chips (only the Sour Cream and Onion flavoured,
mind you)on this bed of cheese and ketchup. Cover this with a second slice of
bread and voila…you can now enjoy Mini’s
world famous Chips and Cheese sandwich, my friend’.
The tiny blue starfish tattoo on
my right wrist – kind courtesy an impromptu urge to mark a much enjoyed reunion
- reminds me every day that somewhere in
the world there are a bunch of people who will always have my back. These
are my people and by writing about them today I have relived some of my best times with
them. It has surely brought a big smile to
my face. And even though they are miles away, I
know better than to feel dismal about it because good times are merely a video conference away.. 