Frisky Freshers for Frolic

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Arvind Kothari “Kotharus”
Audi, IITK
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NOTE:

Just returned from Audi after ragg… no seeing the freshers preparing for their first performance on the campus soil, I mean the audi stage. The names mentioned here are true but the same may not hold for the events which might have a touch of exaggeration or more-than-required imaginativeness (mirch-masala journalism). Read on and forgive me for the run-on sentences that I am so fond of (COM200 stuff) .

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“One, two, three, four! One, two, three … “, as Rajil Jain shouts these words to some docile first-yearites from the fairer sex, they burst into action and start waving their hands and legs in apparently random fashion which, this humble correspondent was told, was dance. To the correspondent, who never had any chance to shake the mass of his boulder body, it was a strange place. Not far away, Avichal Chaturvedi and Shreyansh Jain were guiding the boys from Y5 to wriggle-a-friggle out of their bodies. I talked to Shreyansh last night about the dance.

“Abe kal baat karna yaar! Thak ke choor ho chuka hoon!”, (Please talk to me tomorrow, I’m dead tired right now) and on insisting he told me,”Guys are all right but the gals are not up to the mark”. (Notice that I talked about imaginativeness in the heading). I now see elsewhere and all over I see buzzzzzzzzzzzzz… The Auditorium is buzzing with hell of a lot of activity. What I told you above was a bit of activity straight from the entrance place just outside the main hall. My eyes now go adrift and I see our very own Atul Jain (for the uninitiated, he is: Editor, Hindi Section, Meander and a strange bloke for that matter). I would have been enjoying a movie or something in my room but for this guy who was thoroughly impressed by the negligence this correspondent showed towards initiating this newscast. I avoid his gaze and enter the side-section adjoining the entrance hall, just after the audi-potable-water-supply. Mohammad Saud Afzal is leaning on the wall and his eyes flash on seeing me. Work is going on, serious work. Its this big poster thingy over which the ickle firsties are rubbing the life blood – I mean rubbing the colors.

Several people are loitering around in the place. Many known faces and several unknown ones as well. I hear that the juniors are allowed to breathe, drink water, sweat (and stink) and be ragged amidst all this fanfare. As I see faces with different expressions, my ears suddenly catch the words: “Yeh mera bachha hai (this is my kid).”

We have a bit of a problem. Call the authorities because there has been a physical offence against – a second year done by -a first year. Mr. Wriggly – legs had his stroke of adrenaline and lifted Rajil Jain in air (by his midriff of course) declaring his parentage.

Inside the audi the backdrop work is going on. Tarun Verma and Alok Kumar Singh are busy with the bachhas. Without disturbing anyone and without grabbing my chance to rag – oops – interact with firsties after ten, I come out to the entrance hall and then go back to side-section. Anurag Bhatt is standing, “supposedly” helping guys for compering. I shake a hand. Good for me, meeting biggies. Along with him comes Chakresh Mishra and we khusur pusur about this newspiece.

We go out and see some firsties resting on the floor. As ideal seniors, this turns out to be highly intolerable for us. So we go and start ‘interacting’ with them. Whole Y5 is born sports batch. Everyone from the batch is a sports hobbyist but please do not be surprised if our hockey fan Mr. So-and-so is unable to name the captain of Indian Hockey Team. Or that a person interested in History (buahahahahaha… villainous, demon like laughter followed by a strong stich on the correspondent’s lever while having immense disbelief and feeling of amazement: concerted reaction) does not know that 100 year war did not go on for hundred years, but more. Among the five firsties we got, one was a girl who obediently went to bring more girls from her year. Mean while the boys start to go away. The girls arrive and as they introduce themselves, we are introduced to Indian women of the 21st century: sportswoman, games wiz. novel reader and a poetess who does not remember any of her poems. We are talking and talking when suddenly the coordinators arrive on the scene.

“Coordinators not allowed”, shouts a firsty on the command of the demon of a second year standing near him. The talk goes on and slowly, the four girls who were there initially, turn into one. No no, this is none of the usual P C Sarkar stuff. I mean the three were taken away for dancing. We are left with miss poetess and are joined by Mr. M S Charan (coordinator, HLS). The color of poetess’ face was fading fast and just then I remembered that I was in audi for reporting the preparation of firsties for the fresher’s nite.

Vagabond me, I walk from place to place in Audi; spot-to-spot, seeing various shades of colors, happiness, weariness, shouting, dancing, singing, ragging, ding-ding, ping-ping… The audi is teeming with life: the true spirit of IITK, revealed to the Y5 for the first time. They will never forget it though they do forget the poems they write. The freshers are ready to put up a good show on 14th. The countdown has begun for fresher’s nite as well as for the freeing of freshers from the shackles of ‘friendly’ interaction with seniors. Whatever be the plight of the freshers about being overworked and tired, their is a sense of satisfaction (the imaginativeness I talked about in the heading) and achievement on the faces of Y5. They are practicing, doing hard work and that too willingly (i.e. by the bullying power of their seniors; please imagine a villanous laughter at this point)!!

Today is Saturday (yes silly, it has begun, or already ended if this junk has been allowed for a larger time slot on e-meander) and the firsties are gonna make for a night-out. Full practice on the purva-ratri of fresher’s night.

Having seen everything to my heart’s desire, I step out of the entrance hall as the seniors shepherd the firsties for their jobs. ‘Dus Bahane’ is ringing in the distance (not so distant buddy, I am just out of the workplace but ‘distance’ adds effect) as I make out for the iron gates. I have a life to live, a nap to take, an article to write and blah-blah, bleat-bleat, roar-roar, mumble-wimble hu hu ha ha – my ‘Dus Bahane’.’

Auditorium, IITK se main Arvind Kothari, Blah Blah Sog-Sog ke saath, Meander. (The ‘Aaj Tak’ effect).

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PS: I did this piece yesterday for e-Meander, reporting the preparations for Freshers’ Nite ’05. Lot of spice added…