I loved the hostel life, even though I ran away from St Xavier’s Godavari because I was sick of the crap they called “food” that was served.[break]
But that was a long time ago, and only for a day when I was nine years old.
I hid in the hills on top of the Botanical Gardens only to be woken up rather rudely early the next morning by Sudhir Khanal. Oh yes, I remember the smirk on his face like it was only yesterday, and the bugger twisted both my ears all the way back to the school.
Mind you, that was a pretty long walk considering the ears were in between someone else’s hands the entire time.
The Air Force School, New Delhi, circa 1997
I can’t recall exactly who it was at this point of time, but it was close to midnight and someone was feeling rather hungry. Besides, Ravi, the only guy in our group who had the habit of downing a packet of Raj Durbar every hour was visibly running low on his stock.
Never mind that venturing out of the hostel premises was against the rules, and that everyone had to be asleep in their dorms by 10 pm.
So there we were, six brave souls at midnight, successfully squeezing out of a window so small it would put the cadets in the Air Force to shame. Never mind that we had to walk another 30 minutes before reaching Dhaula Kuan, then a stop for truck drivers along the highway.
For the next hour, no one spoke a word. Every single soul concentrated on gulping down the bread omelet and the multiple cups of chai. Only when we were all stuffed did we proceed to light our respective brand of cigarettes –my favorite was Gold Flake – and talked about how women still remember the first kiss after men have forgotten the last.
When we got back, someone noticed the lights were on, meaning the warden had woken up.
That resulted in the six of us squeezing back into the window and into our beds so fast the Navy Seals that got Osama bin Laden would’ve been proud. Of course, as with those Seals, we never got caught.
Telang Memorial Hostel, Mumbai, 1999 AD
It was a birthday party. Not the usual kind where a lot of people are invited and where the only other beings in the picture would be the cake, candle and a bottle of wine. Yet there we were, all 91 of us perched on the terrace of the fifth floor of the hostel, waiting for the clock to strike midnight. And then it did.
Suddenly, a terrified Gayatri and her “not so good looking” boyfriend from the building across the road watched in horror as 91 men, half of them not as sober, stood up on the terrace and started singing “Happy Birthday to You” in unison with a rather impressive improvisation of the song that ended with “I Love You!” which dented the ego of the boyfriend to such an extent that he came to the gates of the hostel and began screaming obscenities.
Of course, people living in hostels are used to profanities, and that action resulted in a largely wet reply with plastic and pans full of water pouring down on him.
Or the time when we had a cricket match on the main street, only to be interrupted rather rudely by the police who picked up the entire team in an open Gypsy and took us to the police station.
Now and then, I think back to those days and remember discussions and matches over tea, cigarettes and beer, and games played, and attempts to wake up everyone early on a Sunday morning. Much happened in between, unrelated to cricket. But that’s a story for another time.
For now, here’s some advice for those of you who are currently housed in a boarding school, struggling with the separation from mummy and daddy. The following points are intended as a guide to beating the boarding school blues:
• Forget about calling up mommy once a week. Save your phone calls for more important days, like when you absolutely need money to go out on a date. This cousin of mine told me his cousin called up his mom from Delhi one fine afternoon to “inform” her that he needed money to pay for 70 of his friends he had checked into a hotel to “celebrate” his birthday. See? There’s a guy who makes good use of his “telephone time.”
• Don’t worry about bedwetting. If you ever wet your bed, get up real early so that you can switch your blankets with someone else’s. If that fails, close your eyes and relax. That’s about the warmest sensation you’ll ever experience in boarding school again.
• Don’t let the bullying and physical abuse bother you. Nature will take its own course. One day, you’ll get stronger and they’ll get older. In the meantime, find someone smaller than you to amuse yourself.
• Don’t ever worry about a bad school report. Your parents don’t really care. Or else, why would you be here? Think about it.
• Learn to love the cook at the mess and the Captain at the table serving you food. He cares for your dietary wellbeing. That’s why he makes sure he cooks shitty food no one will dare eat more than necessary to stay alive.
• Learn to smoke as soon as you can. There’s no other way to make friends as easily. One of the best friends I ever made in high school was Ravi Bhushan. And it was no accident that we met for the first time in the bathroom whilst lighting a cigarette.
• Don’t be afraid of the beating your “monitor” will hand out in case he/she ever catches you in any wrongdoings. If the monitor handing out the beatings is a “he,” think of it as a mini rugby and a preparation for the real game. If the monitor is a “she,” well, enjoy it while it lasts.
Disclaimer: This article represents the official views of the voices in my head and may contain information that’s confidential, privileged or unsuitable for overly sensitive persons with low self-esteem, no sense of humor, or irrational religious beliefs.
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