Missing pint bottle

One day while we entered hostel, the security of MH was seen pinning a circular in the notice board. The circular signed by Principal stated that alcoholic drinking inside the campus is prohibited with immediate effect. We all laughed reading the joke pasted on the notice board and made ourselves ready for playing ‘keech’ our official card game. After some time Oolan and poocha dashed into the room with a serious red face.

“Have you seen princi’s notice?” Oolan shouted as if the circular demanded all of us to wear underwear inside hostels.

“What is the big deal in it?” asked bosch.

“We should not allow the princi to interfere in our personal matters.” It was poocha who said this.

“We all saw this notice and ignored it right away. Even princi knows that none of us will stop drinking by seeing his circular. He too has graduated from an Engg college and he knows all about young students like us” Jotha tried to console Poocha.

“No we should protest”. Pothan told this as he entered the room.

Protest is a very appealing word. Protest means strike and strike meant a legitimate full day keech in hostel. But serving a strike notice for such a reason – Principal to stop interfering in students personal matters / eating habits could be awful but possible.

“Lets collect money from all hostelites and create a mega vellamadi event tonight in the MH portico” Oolans red face was seen gleaming with joy as he said this.

“So no strike..?” Liju said in a disappointed tone.

“No. We will have this vellamadi as a protest”. Pothan told this and the three walked out and we continued with our keech.

Though the proposal of Oolan was not as appealing as a strike, we never said no to any vellamadi. But why the trio gave undue importance to such a silly matter arouse suspicion in the keech table. Keech became interesting and our mind got fully occupied in the keech.

Oolan, Poocha and Pothan gathered money from all hostelites and with the collected amount, one full bottle and one pint bottle of ISLAND Rum arrived hostel. Both the bottles were displayed in the news paper reading table and the vellamadi was scheduled to start at 8.00pm. We few kept our eye on the pint bottle. Our idea was to move the pint bottle to our room, without getting caught in the eyes of the three organizers and other inmates and drink from our room peacefully. KD was assigned the duty to steal the pint bottle at a convenient time and we all tried to divert others attention from the bottle. When KD approached the table he was surprised to see the pint bottle got disappeared.

Daivame… Kaduvaye pidicha kiduvayo..?

We all searched for the pint bottle in the entire hostel. Though nobody knew our plan of stealing the pint bottle, we felt ashamed that somebody did the trick before us that too in front of our eyes. Moreover the fact that we cannot locate the bottle added more to the grief. While we searched for the pint bottle the full bottle was finished in the portico and we didn’t get even a drop from it. The organizers, Poocha, Pothan and Oolan were seen furious when they learnt that the pint bottle was missing.

The trio organizers offered a treat in hobnob for those who found the missing bottle. Next few days we kept our six senses open to see whether any pint bottle (empty / full) emerged in the hostel. All the drunken people were interrogated to know the source of the spirit. All our efforts were in vein. The bottle remained hidden.

Friday evening, waiting for Venad express at railway station, I saw Poocha, Oolan and Pothan with a 1 Litre pepsi bottle sitting at a remote place, sipping pepsi. Seeing me Poocha offered me the bottle with a wicked smile. I tasted the pepsi. It was mixed with Rum. The mischievous smile in Oolans face told me that the organizers had different intentions that day. However the contents of pint bottle which made us sleepless for few nights was at last recovered in the pepse bottle.

A Fight

It was just a couple of months into our long RIT journey. We still were not acquainted with every body in class. One of my first friends was Sankar, because we traveled together from Trivandrum. There were other guys from Trivandrum, like Pothen, Pichathi and Poocha but they had to sit through the long journey listening to Oolan's 'Quarters' stories and vegudu was always getting ragged by mostly our batch mates and girls.

One day I and Sankar was walking to college and saw a couple of our friends trying to fight, like its done in films. One person was swinging his hand a mile away from the other persons face and the other would sway his head in the direction of the hand and cry out. This was supposed to look like a real hit to the face and I cant explain their facial expressions as they were repeatedly acting out the oldest trick in films. We walked on and saw a second group doing that. By the time we reached our block we saw many such groups. Every body was busy practicing the trick, in class, in front of the labs and a select few, even in front of the electrical class to impress the girls. We went to the nearest group and asked what this was all about. Somebody told us about how Oolan and one of his senior friends did this trick during freshers day and fooled every body. He told me that oolan is still going around teaching his newest trick from 'Quarters'.

On our way to class Sankar told me “ Da we will show them what a real fight is like. Its time we stop Oolan's Jada”. When we reached our class there was about 10 or 15 studious members of our class and Makru. Sankar looked at me and said “Lets start”.I pushed him on to the front desk were Makru was sitting. He fell over the desk. Every body was startled with the sound. Makru shouted and ran back. Sanker got up, jumped over the desk and pushed me over the teachers chair. I picked up the chair and threw it at him, but made sure that it fell far away from him. I threw him on the black board and it broke off from one side. Foul language and threats were exchanged all through out. In about 10 minutes a good crowd had gathered around the class, almost all the classroom furniture was in disarray, the black board was broken and Makru was crying. I was trying to hit him with a broken piece of furniture. He got hold of it and whispered to me “Da I think its enough, its better we leave now, professors may come soon”. I pushed him to the floor and stormed out of the classroom. Later we met up at Hobnob and laughed almost for an hour. We were happy that we fooled every body and this time it was better than oolans filmy trick.

The next day I got ready, caught the college bus and went straight to the hostel. (classes were obviously not the first in my agenda) . As soon as the I entered the hostel, a couple of 8^th sem Mech's caught hold of me and started asking me about the previous day's fight. I told them all the lies I could make up within that short period. Then as I was walking into a room, some other guys came to me and introduced themselves as Jesus youth members. They started advicing me on the importance of controlling my anger. I was fed up of all this and went to Hobnob for a cigarette. A couple of second year Mech students was there. They were trying to convince me that I should join Solidarity party and they needed people like me to take on SFI in the campus.

The excitement of the previous day had worn off and I was confused. I was sitting there alone and still smoking when Sanker walked in. He seemed happy and excited. He asked me how my day went and I replied that I was getting fed up with all the advices and we wont even have the fun of fooling any body now, since nobody is going to believe that it was a joke. and I asked him why he was so happy. He told me “ If advices come from the right places you can actually enjoy it”. He continued “ You should learn to cash in on opportunities. You are a fool, you went to the men's hostel after such a show and what more did you expect. I asked him “ where were you? He said “ I took a couple of rounds by the electrical class and the advices I got, was from those beauties. I am already friends with some of them . He continued “ OK I am leaving, have to meet ----- near LH. I hid my disappointment and said “ Ok good for you”. On the way out he said “ Da I am planning to continue the counseling sessions for a couple of days more, so we’ll not let anybody see us together for the time being. 'Pinne' u don’t have to get disappointed. Even if you had come to college today you wouldin't have got as much attention as I did”. I asked “ Why” and he replied “ninakku ente athrem Soundaryam illallo”. I wanted to kick his ass, this time for real, but by the time I got up, he was half way down the road to LH.

Meeting with a Junior

Road in front of MH leading to canteen and mech workshop was the one of the most scared pathway for us when we were in S1S2. There were numerous occasions when loud calls for “Attention”, “Fire” etc were heard from MH and we had to stand in attention and use our mini drafter as AK 47 guns to fire towards the mens hostel. Sight of MH was frightening and we never had a neat look of MH till we had our first year university exams.

Year 2000 witnessed some of the beautiful girls join RIT. Lured by this fact I and Jerry went to Civil block to see some of the girls on their first day at RIT. By the time we reached Civil block, it was lunch time and the classes were stopped for lunch. There were no classes for seniors and we were the only seniors in Civil block at that time. While we stood near the steps, somebody put his hand on Jerry’s shoulder and asked “Ethu Brancha...” It was a fresher moderately built, taller than both of us. I could see Jerry was about to explode on him.

Suddenly I intervened and said “Mechanical. Nammal interview inu kandayirunnu ormayille…?”

Jerry understood my intentions and he told “Njyan Jery… Jery Panalell. Thaan Ethu Brancha..?”

“Ohh !! Interview inu kandayirunno? enikku ormayilla.. Ente peru Nishad. Electronics and Communication Engineering. Jyoli kiitan ippol scope ithinaanu”. Fresher introduced himself.

“Alla Mechanicalum athra purakottalla. Athu potte entha peru?” Fresher was eager to meet us.

“Joseph Alex” I tried to copy the mannerism of Mamootty in the movie King as I told this name.

“Evida Veedu”

“Pampadiyil” Jerry answered.

“Randu perum?” Fresher inquired.

“Alla ente veedu pangada -ill aanu. Ee College inte backil aayittu varum”. I told him. There was a toddy shop in Pangada and we used to refer pangada shaap as our ‘tharavaadu’.

“Oh appol ningal Locals aanalle..? Ethayalum ragging ine pedikendallo..!”

“Hey ivide bhayangara ragging aanu ennanu kettathu. Localsineyum veruthe vidilla.” Jerry told

“Enthonnu? Nammal strong ayittu ninnal mathi. Ente tharvadu Kottayathanu. Venamenkil njyan aale irakkum.!. Nammal orumichu ninnal seniorsinu nammale onnum cheyyan pattilla.” He seemed confident in his words.

“Ningal locals support cheyyanam. Nammukku ella Juniors inum orumichu nadakkanam. Appol seniors onnum cheyyilla” Fresher chocked out the strategy.

“Njyan lead cheyyam. Enikku ivare onnum pedi illa” Fresher informed his readiness to be the leader.

“Athupotte evide poya lunch kazhikunne” I asked.

“Ningal alle locals.. ningalku ivide okke ariyamallo. Nedunkuzhiyil onnum nalla hotels illa” Fresher said.

“Ivide thazhe oru nalla sthalam undu. Homely food aanu. Angottu pokaam” Jery told.

We started walking towards the hostel. Fresher told us how he tackled his seniors in SN College where he joined for BSc last year. We really felt impressed. Slowly we came near MH

“Ithu MH alle” fresher inquired.

“Athey, nammukku athinte sideiloode pokaam” Jery told.

“Alla athu veno? Senors aarenkilum nammale kandalo?” fresher seemed nervous.

“Athinentha, ente veedu athinte purakilanu. Pedikenda”. I tried to console him.

After some time we reached in front of MH. Fresher seemed slow in walking. We pulled him towards the MH.

“Nammakku sideiloode pokaam. Nere poyal MH il ethum.” Fresher told

“MH ilekku poyale alle food kittuu” I told him

Fresher’s face became pale. He realized that we were seniors and the saddest part was that he was now in front of MH.

“MH ile food vendenkil nammuku Thampi chettante kadayil pokaam. Pakshe nee cash kodukkanam.” Jery put across an option.

Thus he became the first one of his batch to treat his seniors. Needless to say, we both had a superb lunch with fish fry and beef curry discussing his other heroic deeds in SN College..

First meeting with the mother of machines

May I have the single honour, double pleasure, triple satisfaction with multiple ejaculation in knowing your good, great, gracious name sir? Please…

Every fresher at that time would have written this imposition hundreds of time. This was how we should ask the name of a senior, if permitted to ask. Along with this, there were Newtons laws numbering till 10 and certain ‘Slogams’ which had to be byhearted to get exempted from the ragging sessions.

One day myself and Kuttachan were going to the society store operating in the ground floor of admin block for buying pencils. As we reached near the store, we were caught by a few seniors. Upon knowing that 4 seniors in that group were from Mech department Kuttachan gave each of them a royal “Mech Salute”. Seeing what my partner did, I too jumped to the maximum height possible and when reached the highest point, used my left hand to hold my balls and gave them a Royal salute with my right hand, same way Kuttachan did, exactly how a Mech Salute is to be delivered. Giving four such salutes took away all the energy I had.

Seeing our obedience, the seniors asked us to go. When we were about to move, someone from the group asked us politely whether we could buy a thing for him from the store.

“What do you want sir?” Kuttachan asked

“Buy one lathe for me”. My mouth felt dry as the senior told this. How much will this instrument cost?

A drafter cost approx 200 Rs. Will this instrument cost more than that..? I looked at kuttachen. He too seemed perplexed. We have not heard about this instrument yet. We were asked to bring scales, drafter, pencils of various grades (H, 2H, HB and B) big set of compass and A3 size papers for the drawing classes. Now comes lathe. We thought that this lathe is a big brother of the drafter and should be used in our higher semesters.

“Take this and don’t forget to give the balance 5 Rs when you bring the lathe.” Saying this, the senior took a 20 Rs note from his pocket and handed over to us. Thank god.. we sighed a relief. “What a good senior..!! He is ready to pay for the instrument. Thank god, the Mech salute really worked”. We thought ourselves.

Store was crowded that day. I asked in my loud voice “Chetta, oru lathe tha”. Everybody in the store gave us a perplexed look. Some started laughing.

“Ividilla, mech workshopil poye chodikku...” answered the store keeper.

“Stock theernu poyathano chetta..?” Kuttachan was eager to know. Everybody in the store laughed. We didnt understand anything. We decided to reach the mech workshop asap. The seniors were not seen when we came out of the store. We marched straight to the mech workshop.

“Eda avide vere store undo..? avide stock undakumo..?” Kuttachan was full of doubts.

We reached Mech workshop. Seeing a senior I asked him “Sir, ividuthe store evideya?”

“Enthina” his reply was fast

“Oru lathe venam”

“Aarka”

“Oru senior ina” Saying this I took the 20 Rs note from my pocket.

“Ethu type lathe venam?” such a question was not expected from him.

“4 jaw veno atho 3 jaw ullathu mathiyo?” he asked. We stood puzzled. Finally we decided to go back to the senior and ask him which type he wanted. We bunked the next hour and after roaming around the campus for 30 minutes we found him and asked which one he need.

“3 jaw is enough. Get me the lathe in another 10 min. If you are late, bring the lathe to my hostel, Mathathil buildings in 8^th mile after 8 pm.” This time his sound was rude. Going to his room at 8 pm was beyond imagination.

“It’s dreadful to go to a senior’s room at 8 pm.” Kuttachen said. I too thought the same. We ran towards the workshop and saw the senior there.

“Sir, please show us to the store. He want 3 jaw type lathe”. Kuttachen requested. I stood beside with the 20 Rs in my hand.

“Self centered or independent?”. he asked.

I felt my head spinning. Going back to the senior without the lathe will be fatal.

Seeing our desperate looks the senior said. “Self centered will be enough for him”. We felt relaxed. We felt a deep sense of gratitude for this senior.

“Thankyou Sir” Kuttachen expressed his gratitude.

“Sir where is the store” I asked.

“Go inside and take it. These are the lathes”. Saying this he walked away.

We entered the workshop and looked in the direction he showed. Mighty machines were fixed on the floor.

Our first meeting with the mother of machines.

Flirtoragg

Ekalavya is a fascinating character in Mahabharatha who was asked to cripple himself by Drona for embarking self-study to learn the art of archery in the presence of a clay image of Drona. Unruffled by the demand and with due humility, he cut his right thumb and placed at the feet of Drona as a 'Gurudakshina' thus sacrificing the immense success he could have achieved as a skillful archer.

Those who possess status symbols had gained a definite edge over the others in college, like the one in our class who owned a bike. From the very first day, he and his friend came to campus together in bike and we called them 'Biker Boys'. They were welcomed by unruly political scenario of RIT campus and it took two years to settled into their grooves.

Beautiful fresher girls were at the receiving end of their newly found freedom. It was only an extension of their flirting which had dated back to first year and we named it 'flirtoragg', the combination of flirting and ragging. The girls from our batch had managed to escape the flirting with some lame excuses, but freshers were forced to suffer the 'kathi'. The general perception among others was that eventually the girls will complain to HOD or principal. Our college had strict rules against ragging and we waited for something disastrous to happen.

Contrary to our expectations, they fared well in flirtoragg and there were no complaints. Many credited that to their friendly mannerisms and good looks. Their popularity grew manifold. Fellow students looked up to them in awe and referred them as masters of flirtoragg. I was one among them.

I had tried my hand in flirtoragg with most of the sessions ending either with the girl crying or I getting frustrated. These unfortunate results prompted me to learn the art of flirtoragg from the masters. That day I finished my lunch and went to first year classes. I saw the Biker Boys standing in the corridor and I placed myself on their side. They were least bothered by my presence and got into their usual business. As a bunch of fresher girls passed by, they called the gorgeous one. I truly admired that choice.

The first question "Did you finish your lunch?".

The girl was tensed and answered "Yes".

Next question "What was special for lunch"?

She started describing the lunch in detail. Biker boys listened carefully encouraging her to continue. Slowly her apprehension made way for candor and they were into flirtoragg in full flow.

"Brilliant!". I told myself.

After 15minutes long session, biker boys finished the conversation with the punch line "It was so nice to know you more". I could see the girl smiling all the way back. That's the way to execute a successful flirtoragg. As I turned to leave the scene, I saw another girl. Her hair hung in delicate curls around her white shoulders. She was talking to other girls and the dimple in her face made her smile so cute. The moment I saw her there was a rumbling in my chest and mouth was as dry as a desert. She really fit into my particular favourite type of girl.

She was the next target of biker boys. In my enthusiasm to see her and know more about her, I went close to biker boys and stood there.

As usual they started: "Where your father is working?"

"He is in gulf", she answered

"Mother?" enquired one of the Biker Boys .

"She is in Trivandrum".

The girl was getting comfortable. I started to feel left out and in an impulse to join the party I asked "How could it work?"

Biker boys were surprised by that question and burst into laughter. The girl was taken aback and started crying. Before I could explain my innocence, a hand fell on my shoulder. I turned around and stunned to see our HOD standing there.

He took us to his office room and warned us against ragging. After asking biker boys to leave he said to me in his monotonous voice with little variation in pitch and tone "If you go near that girl again, I will suspend you". It shattered my hopes of going to her and making me clear on the issue. As I left the office and moved back to hostel I could see biker boys standing in the corridor and in serious flirtoragg with another damsel.

The severity of Biker boys actions were diluted by my comment and forced HOD to issue only a mild warning enabling them to continue with their flirtoragg sessions. All his anger was directed to me and I ended up giving the ultimate 'Gurudakshina' to Biker Boys for learning flirtoragg ; comparable only to the one given by Ekalavya, my favourite mythological character.

Sunny morning, lazy minds, a catalyst and a parker pen

We the 8 semester students and inmates of top floor of RIT mens hostel were still in bed, lazy n cozy when we heard someone shouting at a sight which was never seen there before.

A well dressed man, could be a Bank manager or an Officer in Govt service (as inferred from his appearance) was coming towards the hostel with his ward, a boy of 17+ years old, neatly dressed in tucked in shirts, full sleeve an expensive leather belt and black formal shoes and a parker pen on his pocket.

Let me first say that no juniors were permitted to enter the premises of men’s hostel. Rather, they didn’t have the courage, even to look to the side of MH while they were in the first years of college life. Now a boy ushered by his father (that too just after filing an application) was coming to evaluate the hostel and its facilities (which could be a part of the evaluation program that included labs, classrooms, library, quality and make of machines / instruments installed in labs etc) so as to decide whether the college equipped to fetch him a BTech degree and fit for him to live his next 4 years.

For us this sight was really enterprising. It turned out as a catalyst which triggered our ‘seniorist’ instincts and we jumped from our bed and darted towards the lounge. There, we found them asking our juniors, 4th semester students, about mess timings, mess workers, cleaning schedules and quality of food etc. The much annoyed interviewees were rejoiced to see us marching towards to them to take control of the situation. They retired and peacefully settled in the big news paper reading table which served as their gallery for the forthcoming events.

We got split into two groups. While one group stayed with the father and answered his questions, other group took the boy to a corner. The group with the boy, made guesses on the brand of the shirt and in order to confirm he had to remove his shirt and show it to all. To make guesses on the length of his belt, the same was also taken out. While removing his shoes, the fathers’ eyes fell on his ward and came for his rescue. Bit tensed on this sight, he advised us to consider him as our younger brother and reminded us of our duty to protect, guide and help him realize his dream of becoming a ‘strong’ and ‘powerful’ engineer.

Soon our colleague, an intellect who scores 80+ in all university exams but 50- in all internals and to whom calculator was a luxury, rose up and told them that, to master engineering one should unlearn all what he learnt earlier. The pride earned when he got selected to a premier college has to be shed out. Praise which fell on his ears while he ejaculated his CEE rank to his family members / friends has to be forgotten. Competitive spirits which helped him secure a good rank has to be buried and capability to gel with his colleagues shall be practiced.

Father and son thought that, what happened was “the unlearning activity” and left the hostel in peace. But to us the real fight started as we were to find out who became the new master for that parker pen.

Preface

14 years ago, there were only 14 engineering colleges in Kerala. One of them was at Pampady, a sleepy town near Kottayam, beside the KK Road. The college was under the shades of rubber trees and surrounded by hills. Like its students, the college was also in its developing period Buildings were only slowly coming up and so were the labs. There was only one permanent building - that was the Civil Block. That was where the seniors had their classes. The office staff and the Principal sat out of a temporary office building near the entrance. There were only 4 branches (Mech, E&C, EEE and Civil) with batch strength of 50 each. For S1-S2, there were two temporary class-rooms at the foot of the hill that houses Mech Block and the Workshop, and another classroom inside the Workshop building. The time table was scheduled in such a way that at least one batch was out for Geometrical Drawing, Workshop or such classes that are outside of the classrooms.

In 1998, a group of students joined that college. They were the first batch to have had all Lab classes in RIT itself (the seniors had to go to MA College, Kothamangalam to see how machines work). During their time, the administrative block, the Mech Block, the Library building, the Canteen etc. came up. The dependence on the PTM School ground for games was replaced by a small ground within the campus (they called it K. R. Narayanan's Varavu Memorial Ground because the ground was initially prepared for hosting the then President of India, Shri. K. R. Narayanan to formally inaugurate the college in a function which, never happened of course). They grew along with the college and by the time they were ready to face the world, the college had also grown independent.

The four formative years of their life they spend with this college. The college was part of their life. The ragging sessions, classrooms, hostel, canteens, library, drawing hall, festivals whatever it be, everything left lasting impressions in their minds. They were part of everything. They felt the pulse of the college in every heartthrob. They remained true to each other. They lived together, they dreamed together and enjoyed the happiness of being together - for four long years.

In 2002, they moved out from the college. With heart full of memories, they stepped into the life that awaited them. Life that was truly molded by the college, in return to their love. College days retreated into their memories and they donned a nostalgic smile whenever they met and recounted the times which were so dear to them.

10 years later, looking down the lane, those funny deeds arouse the same depth of nostalgia. Scribbling down those funny deeds, they could hear someone from deep inside their heart saying, “those were the best days of our life”.

We are sure; these stories will take you too to your college days. Those innocent, youthful, colorful days of your life.