As you must be aware already, IIT roorkee is home to some of the most brilliant minds in the country. In keeping with the tradition of R-land, the freshers batch this year too consists of a lot of young, dynamic, smart, intelligent, suave, uber-cool  students with the most exemplary student among them being ………………………. ahem, my modesty prevents me from going any further. As you read this post you will realize that it is a testimony to the brilliance of these students (or atleast some of these students.)

                                   Alone I sat there, on the mess chair, with two plates in front of me, pedantically separating the rajma from the worms and and placing the worms in the bigger plate ( why? Coz the worms are more in number) until my whole world turned topsy-turvy by the arrival of a young bloke who was living proof that evolution could go backwards as well.  This instrument of mass terror (lets call him, say, Ravana. Why? Bcoz he strikes the same terror in my heart now as Ravana used to do when I was a kid) came from behind me and tapped me on the shoulder with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer and so began our unfortunate tryst.

   (I would like to mention here that our conversation was almost one sided and was carried out in English that a fifth grader would have scoffed at. I’ve improved it a little bit so that the readers don’t face the same problem in comprehending him as I did.)

Ravana (pointing at the chair beside me): “you have a problem with me sitting here?” (in a typical south Indian accent)

Me (turning around, and appraising the person who had the temerity to disturb me): “No.” Only with you.

He was wearing a shirt that seemed to have gone out of fashion with the moghuls, and his pants were just short of his neckline. His big, round spectacles spoke great volumes of his ‘ghissuness’. His width would have put any normal sized hippo to shame and a ridiculously big smile seemed to have been etched into his hirsute anthropoid face.   

He takes a seat beside me and immediately begins talking. Usually, my loquacity drives people nuts. On that particular day I would have made a clam seem positively garrulous.

Ravana:  ”you iit roorkee student?”

No, I just happen to be a big fan of the mess food here.

Me: “uh.. yes.”

R: “Can I have your name?”

Why, don’t you have one already??

Me: “eh… yes, im varun.”

As I don’t bother to reciprocate, in a camaraderie-inspiring gesture, he pats me on my back warmly (if you can call being hit on the back a coupla times by a heavily built gorilla ‘patting’) and says ”May I introduce myself? “

Certainly, try those people over there. But I just give a noncommittal shrug hoping that he would take it for the negative and leave it at that.  But he goes on,

“My name is Ravana” (name changed to maintain anonymity.)

I just smile awkwardly.

Ravana: “I think I’ve noticed you before” (all in broken English)     

Seriously?? That’s quite surprising coz I’m not sure I’ve noticed you yet.

Me: “Perhaps…” (I am quite famous.)

Ravana: “Do you mind me talking?”

Me: “No, Not at all.” As long as you don’t mind me not listening.

Ravana: “U frm India?”

God, I’m clueless. Does he mean south India?

Me: “uh.. yes.”

R (beaming): “even I frm India.”

 Whoa, and I thought such coincidences happen only in bollywood movies. Ah, that explains where he must have noticed me before.

And then he starts chuckling loudly, and patting me warmly (well, it certainly made my shoulder warm) till our friendly exchanges result in a few broken bones (needless to mention, my bones). And then he starts talking abt almost every damn thing that has been thought of till now. Abt how he managed to get thru jee even after preparing for only 1 month, abt why he was still not happy as he was expecting to get CSE at IIT Bombay. Abt how he doesn’t bother about the amount of time he spends studying, bcoz the quality of his studies is very good. Abt how blah blah blah ……………

Dude, whats wrong? Don’t you get any attention back home? Pardon me, but you are obviously mistaking me for someone who gives a damn.

I try to look interested but in reality, im struggling to keep my eyes open and am unable to stifle my yawn. He notices it, and asks me “am I boring u?” “no, no, not at all buddy”, I always yawn when I’m interested. And he drones on and on and on, and I go back to my dozing. When I come back to my senses, I see that the situation is quite the same – Ravana is still mumbling something incoherently about why he changed his hot sixth girlfriend because he didn’t like her surname. Yeah, Very likely, pompous ass! I look around for some kind of help, but everyone seems to be engrossed in their own affairs, and no one seems to be giving a damn to the poor soul suffering at the hands of Satan’s sidekick, Ravana. I pray to all the gods and goddesses I know of, in all the languages I can remember, begging for forgiveness for all the sins that I might have committed,  and to save me from the hands of Ravana (O Rama, where art thou?). But it seems like God is also enjoying the show on his home theater while munching popcorn.

                               Apparently, I have to take up matters into my own hands. So, as I am about to tell him to shut his bloody trap,

Ravana, points at his wrist and asks “waat is the time, I say?”

I know where my watch is pal, where the hell do you keep yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask for the restroom?

But I say nothing of the sort and just tell him the time. If looks could kill, Ravana should have been vaporized by my look on the spot, but alas, looks don’t kill (or atleast they don’t kill monstrous beings from the netherworld like ravana here).

                                     My mentioning of the time brings out the Michael Schumacher in him. He hurriedly gobbles up whatever rajma and rice is left in his plate and leaves the table at a pace that leaves me thinking whether there was Tabasco sauce smeared on his bottom. Whatever, who cares, as long as he’s gone. It doesn’t clairvoyance to realize that he had some important work to do which he just remembered now. And I sit back leisurely trying to eat the food left in my plate(the smaller one). All his crappy talk has ruined my appetite.( Not  that it needed any further ruining, the mess food would have taken care of that) but hey, atleast I’m alone again. So, I sit back and try to enjoy the food (TRY is the keyword), when an express train comes from behind and rams into me making me spill all my food over my shirt. I start wondering about how a train got into our mess and I turn around. Ah, its my dear friend Ravana back to his back-clapping antics again, and in one hand he has a plate filled with rice and rajma. So much for my psychic powers! He chortles as he sees food on my shirt. Grinding my teeth, I try to collect my plate and leave for the washroom. Ravana sees me going and immediately asks for my room number. I give him the first arbit number I can think of and make to leave. Smiling, he tells me that he lives in the same wing. Now, of all the 500 odd rooms that RJB has, I had to go and choose one from his wing?? (DAMN YOU, MURPHY). Before any further fiascoes happen, I decide to leave, when he asks for my phone number. As I’m about to concoct one for him, he sees my cell phone lying on the table and picks it up and gives his cell a missed call. Alas, my day is getting worse by the minute. Now I have to change my SIM card as well. And this time I run off to the washroom like my bottom has been smeared with Tabasco sauce. When I emerge from the washroom, I see him standing outside, this time with a proposition – since both of us live in the same wing, we could study together, and the guy even has the effrontery to ask whether we should study in his room or mine. I was half tempted to reply ‘both’. That he should study in his room and I should study in mine. But I don’t wanna appear rude, so I tell him ill think of it later since I have a very important class now, while I promise myself never to go near his wing or hell, even near his block.  He appears dejected and tells me that if there is anything I need I can ask him. Dude, right now, I need what only you can provide: your absence. As I walk out of the mess, im glad to realize that his education hasn’t come in the way of his ignorance- coz it’s a Sunday.    

 

EPILOGUE: If you guys thought that was the last I saw of Ravana, you couldnt be more wrong in your life. Even now, when I go to the mess, the canteen or when I’m when strolling around the hostel campus, I see him waving at me frantically (he has the uncanny knack of being wherever I happen to be present.) whats worse, sometimes when im late for class, and im cycling at a pace that would embarrass lance Armstrong, this guy turns up from nowhere and hops on to my cycle and I have to trudge along huffing and puffing while I haul his fat arse to class. If u guys thought that was bad, wait till you hear this- I am watching the Ashes test in the canteen and this guy pops out of nowhere and asks “Can i buy you a drink?”. I’m totally pissed and i tell him “I’d rather just have the money”. i mean seriously – do i look like a lonely dame in a pub looking for company. Sometimes I receive his calls too, which I reject by sending the preloaded message saying “ I’m busy now. Can I ignore you some other time?”

                                   Sometimes I think he suffers from insanity. Other times, when I can think more clearly, I realize he can’t be suffering from it. He must be enjoying every minute of it. Or maybe he’s gay. Then, of all the 900 students in RJB, why pick me out. Could it be just bcoz of my herculean body, my eight pack abs, my bulging biceps, and a face that would give brad pitt a run for his money. Naa, it must be due to my funny, charming, sophisticated yet modest persona as well. Whatever it is, it is certainly proving detrimental to me right now. I pray to god everyday to save me from this scourge and saying this I await divine intervention in any form. Yes, any form. Including Swine Flu. Go ahead, call me a retard, but hey, atleast, ill be away from Ravana, with an added bonus – hospital food is way better than mess food.