The story so far:
"...lies, in the depth of darkness! Chapter 1 : Moment of grief"
Part 2: New life! New Beginning!
by sutirtho
September, 2003
I joined a very famous engineering college in Bangalore. I selected a branch which had fascinated me for quite a while; Information Science. I met Karan at the admission office. It was by chance. Some papers had fallen from his hand and I helped him gather those.
“Thanks buddy, I’m Karan. I’m in Information Science (IS).”
“Wow! You are my classmate! I’m Sutirtho!” I said.
We then talked about hostel room allotment, books, ragging and stuff. He said that four persons were supposed to stay in a single room in the first year. In the second year, however, everybody had his single room. At the hostel I met Haroon, Anuj and Nigel. They were my roommates. All of them were in Electronics and Communication engineering (ECE). The breaking-of-ice part was done, and we talked about our background, marks, options we got at different colleges etc.
“Sutirtho! Kewl name buddy! What does that mean?” Nigel asked.
I was quite familiar telling people about the significance of my name. I loved my name and was really proud that my mom chose it for me. I started explaining the meaning.
“Sutirtho is the ‘Bengali’ version or rather pronunciation of the Sanskrit word ‘Sutirtha’. It has a mythological significance. It was a place that was the part of the Kuru Kingdom. It was situated on the banks of river Amvumati. If one bathed there and worshipped the gods, he would gain the merit of Horse Sacrifice or Ashwamedha Yogya. ‘Su’ means ‘auspicious’ and ‘tirtha’ is ‘a place of pilgrimage’. So Sutirtha means ‘auspicious place of pilgrimage’.” I completed my lecture.
“Er. Umm. Okay..so Mr. Pilgrim.” Nigel smiled, “Thanks for sharing your mythological knowledge.”
“And what does Nigel mean?” I asked.
“Oh! That’s simple, no Indian mythological connotations here! My name has its origin in Irish and Gaelic, and it means ‘Champion’ or ‘Knight’. Nigel replied with a smile.
“Who’s next? Haroon?” Anuj chipped in.
“My name? Well.. er.. there’s an interesting piece of information to share. Haroon was a prophet as mentioned in the Quran. He used to exist during biblical times. In the Bible, however, he was mentioned as ‘Aaron’. And you know what? It’s ama-a-a-zing. They say Haroon lived for 122 years!!” Haroon’s eyes grew big as he talked.
“Haroon in Quran was Aaron in Bible?” I was intrigued.
“Yeah, there are so many other examples you know? For example, ‘Yusuf’ in Arabic is ‘Joseph’ for the Christians, ‘Mary’ i.e. Mother Mary for the Christians is ‘Maryam’ in Arabic. And then ‘Jacob’ in English is ‘Yaqub’. And these characters have high significance, in Bible and Quran.” Haroon said eloquently.
“Hey guys! That’s really interesting! By the way, as you should know, my name is a Sanskrit word meaning ‘younger brother’,” Anuj tried making his ‘common name’ look important.
“Yeah, we know that, we wouldn’t have asked you anyway!” Karan giggled.
I commented at that, “Hey co’on Karan, it’s not like that, we were just zeroing on to Anuj’s name; everyone should get the hot seat! And, how about you Karan?”
“Yeah, tell us, let me see what’s so uncommon about your layman name,” Anuj smirked.
“Karan IS Karan, Karan signifies me, isn’t that reason enough? You need a leader? Follow me!”
“Aahaa!! We have a VIP here!” Anuj laughed out loud and so did others.
“On a serious note, it’s derived from ‘Karna’ to give it a modern touch.” Karan said.
The chat was funny; it had been long since I’d got to know new guys, and make friends. I was, kind of, fed up of seeing the same set of faces at school, and discussing more of studies, than anything. The environment was much relaxed out there at college. It was a new life, a new beginning!
Nigel was very slim and almost the same height as me. He had a cute face; he looked no more than a sixteen year old. He hailed from Hyderabad in Andhra Pradesh. Karan and Haroon were taller than me. Anuj was a real stud. He had a typical V shaped boy, boyish charm and a square jaw. I really envied such a physique and looks. Haroon had a naïve and bland face, that would look the most unattractive of the lot, but somehow I found him very interesting; probably because I liked his intelligent and witty comments at times; intelligence was indeed a major turn on for me. Karan was from Mumbai and Anuj was from New Delhi. Haroon’s hometown was a place named Ratlam in Madhya Pradesh. People from five different parts, Hyderabad – New Delhi – Ratlam – Mumbai & Kolkata had become friends and that was amazing.
Haroon came back from the dinning room. He had plenty of things to share. He started, “Guys, we have so many instructions to follow. You people better make a note of things I’m sharing.”
“What’s that all about?” Karan asked. He stayed in a room opposite to ours.
“Well, it’s about how you behave with your seniors!”
“What the hell! They’ll teach us how to behave? Those buffoons!” Karan looked disgusted.
“That’s all part of the ragging buddy. You got to follow rules, else you are screwed.” Nigel pointed out.
Haroon continued “You will address any senior as ‘sir/ma’am’. You won’t look at their eyes while speaking; rather you should see the third button of your shirt from the top. You will append ‘Excuse me Sir/ Ma’am’ every time you speak! There are other instructions as well, but burn these in your brain; else you are in for trouble!”
“Are we allowed to say ‘Excuse me Sir, can I screw you sir!’?” I chortled. Everybody laughed boisterously at that.
“Ha ha! That was well said, but I guess if you replace ‘sir’ with ‘ma’am’ that question would be more significant!’ Karan remarked with a wink.
“Hey, I heard there’s some dress code we have to follow for few days?” Anuj asked.
“Oh! Yes, I know that, light coloured full sleeved shirt and dark coloured formal trousers. I have a pair for myself, how about you guys?” I asked.
The guys had managed those formal clothes. I was attending college straight out of school, so I had a strange feeling from wearing coloured clothes; I was used to the school uniform till then. We had to walk around 1.5 km to the college main building, four times everyday, i.e. two times to and fro. I expected to reduce my weight a lot because of that! The college timings were from 9:00 to 12:30pm and then 2:00 to 5:00pm. Karan used to sit with me initially. But soon we had more friends and we’d normally sit wherever we got a sit, as I’d be late to classes at times.
I befriended my roomies and Karan, slowly, as we started studying together and also saving each other from senior’s ragging. The courses in the 1st year were almost common for three branches; ECE, IS and CSE (i.e. Computer Science & Engineering). I started enjoying the hostel life, as I could see numerous guys, scantily clad going to the bathroom, or even gathering for a chat while inside the room. It was quite natural for lot of them to stay bare bone, but for me it was quite impossible to avoid a boner, as I saw them. The scenes inside a boys’ hostel were truly aphrodisiac, good enough to excite me into hand jobs daily. I wondered how curious girls could have gotten about us. Boys were in front of me, they were in my mind, my heart, and my thoughts. Guys, guys everywhere, not a girl to see. It was paradise! I ogled at them, and I didn’t feel there was anything else I could do. Boys’ hostel is the best place to survive. You get to see what you always wanted to see! And you get to smell, what you’d always liked, i.e. if you have a liking for male sweat smell. More things excited me: feet, hirsute legs.
Haroon helped me in everything. I got good vibes whenever I talked with him. He didn’t mind helping me even at that cost of his time, energy or anything. We started gelling well. Whenever I talked with him, I felt that he was one person who’d always understand me. Haroon, Anuj, Karan, Nigel and I used to go out on weekends for dinner and also to visit places in and around Bangalore. We formed a friend’s circle that made other people jealous. It was a closely knit group, and we were all family. We were the famous-five. That was the pet name given to our group.
Nigel brought the first desktop in our group. We were all so happy. We wouldn’t have to go to anybody else’s room to watch movies and erotic flicks. We inaugurated it with a ‘straight’ porn named milkman. We also saw a series of other pornos to placate our everlasting and ever-evolving lust. They commented lasciviously on the voluptuous girls with large breasts. I, however, was busy seeing the guys, and based my comments on them, replacing ‘his’ with ‘her’.
October, 2003
Ragging period, as they called it, was in full swing. There were some distinct groups in which the entire 1st year hostellers were divided into. Those were groups of ten and were given special names. That was done to all the 1st year batches; so, there was a hierarchy in the four batches year wise. For example, if a person belonged to say “Mughal - e - Azam” group, he had to memorize the name of all the seniors of the same group in all the years. Haroon, Karan & I was in the “Ashoka” group. It was our final day of ragging, as the seniors had told us that they wouldn’t continue after that, and we would be accepted as the part of college, unofficially, with the seniors treating us and calling is an ‘unofficial fresher’s night’. (There was a rule, that unless you were ragged you were not considered a part of the college hostellers.) We had to chant the names of all the seniors one by one, without default. If we missed a name or fumbled we’d get slapped. I had written down all the names and the places from where they’d come in order, starting from final year to 3rd year. I kept that piece of paper in my pocket; Karan told me not to do it, but still I kept it, so that while going to the seniors’ hostel I could see them on my way and try remembering names. We were dressed in full sleeved shirts, black trousers and we had to wish every senior coming on our way, “Excuse me Sir! Good Afternoon Sir!”
We reached the room where we were called. We were a bunch of ten guys. The questioning and things began as usual and we were doing well. Suddenly, one of the seniors, named Roshan, found out the piece of paper inside my pocket.
“Ho – ho ho! Look what we have here!” Roshan was absolutely amused.
And then when he read out that piece, and in the process he discovered something which I had written purposely. I had associated his name with a place named Sonagachi, near Kolkata. That place is a prominent red light area in the suburbs of Kolkata, famous for prostitutes, and the sex business. Roshan was from Kolkata as well, and he knew the significance of that place totally. He was infuriated and started slapping me, hurling abuses at the same time. Other seniors came and stopped him. They tried to cool him down. One of them came to me and told me to explain. I kept quite and repeated “Excuse me Sir! Sorry Sir!” The seniors gave us a warning. They said that we wouldn’t be freed from ragging if a proper explanation of that was not given to them. They gave us ten minutes to think and decide.
Haroon had an idea impromptu. He whispered to Karan and me, “Sutirtho! Let’s solve it this way; we will tell him that you never knew of that place and its significance before. We were just discussing things and somebody had joked and said that Roshan had come from that place. It was a joke and you didn’t understand it; you were preparing that list at that time and you wrote down. We’ll portray you as geek, bookworm types where you didn’t have ideas of these things.”
I was impressed with that. Haroon indeed handled the crunch situation so well; and I just said “Yes” every time the seniors asked me a question. This made me more attached to him; I had started developing faint likeness for him.
April, 2004
It was the end of 2nd Semester; the exams were round the corner, and I was down with tremendous fever. My room mates were concerned about my health. They admitted me to a nearby hospital. It was the one that was tagged for treating guys and girls from our college. Haroon stayed awake for me, the four nights I was in that place. Nigel, Anuj and Karan would visit either in the morning or evening, taking turns, but Haroon did the hard thing of staying with me at night. He’d help me with the medicines, fruits and dinner, and slept on the sofa besides my bed.
When I came back, I found out that I had to complete a ‘Digital Electronics’ assignment. There were around six questions to be written and other people in our batch were ready with their stuff. Karan had convinced the rest of the class that they would submit the sessional assignment only after I would complete it. Haroon brought some fruits for me.
“Doctor’s advise, I can’t help it.”
“Thanks Haroon, you have taken so much care of me, like my parents. I will repay you some day if I can.”
“Don’t you say that Sutirtho, there’s no repaying back between best friends.”
“I know Haroon! You have been the best guy I’ve ever had as a friend. I’m just worried that you spoilt so much of time for me. I guess, your studies have been hampered soooo much.”
“You know, studies happen only during the preparatory leave (PL), and that has started just two days back. By the way, I have written your sessional, you can go ahead and submit that.”
“Really? My.. My… Why? I could have managed well.”
“You couldn’t have managed well; you and I know that very well! It will take at least one more week to fully recover and feel strong, and while recovering, it will be good if you just try and concentrate on your studies rather than trying to figure out solutions to weird problems!”
“But Haroon, this is not done! You are being so selfless buddy!”
“I care for you.”
Haroon didn’t say a word more. His last statement and the silence that followed were clear indications of how he regarded me as a friend. I had already developed so many feelings for him, but I was scared about telling him things as I didn’t want to lose him as a friend. I knew I couldn’t get anyone better than him, if I lost him. I was being selfish to myself and selfless for him, and I buried my feelings deep within an unfathomable depth in my heart. His presence used to make me very happy, and the smile on his lips mesmerized me. I thought to myself, I analysed my luck, I couldn’t have asked for something better to happen. When I came to the college, I desired for a very close friend with whom I could share all my feelings, emotions and secrets. I never got such a friend in school. The ones I trusted so much betrayed me, and for them the entire class came to know about my homosexual aspects and I was cornered. I always wished to share things with someone. I didn’t know when I began trusting Haroon so much, but still I stopped myself from expressing everything I could say. Just one thing stopped me, I didn’t know what would Haroon’s reaction be if he would ever come to know the truth about me; that I was interested in guys and not girls; that it was something weird, and that’s what I always felt, that I had some mental problem. That was so ‘un-straight’. I couldn’t take my eyes off the bare guys in the bathrooms and toilets. I couldn’t think of anything erotic about girls for my hand job. Could I ever tell these things to Haroon? Could he ever be the vent for my feelings? I sighed.
August, 2004
It was my birthday after three days. Karan somehow came to know that. He sent an SMS to everybody he knew. He didn’t mind forwarding it to girls!
“Hey! It’s Sutirtho’s birthday on 24th August. Please join me in the celebration with a grand GPL at room number 6125 on 23rd night at 11:55 pm.”
He forwarded a copy to me! The stretched form of GPL was “Gaand Pe Laath” or “Kick on butt”. That was the best way of celebrating anything. Be it birthday, good results, campus placements, or anything that’d be a reason of celebration; the person had to undergo a GPL by all his friends. And god it was so painful. You can’t sit for a few days properly, because along with the legs, guys also used belts, shoes, or sandals for the cause, and you’d contort with the pain in your arse for sometime.
“Hi! Sutirtho! I’ll come to wish you,” I could see many guys saying that whenever they’d meet me. As if my birthday was a festival to celebrate. I couldn’t imagine, what my condition would be if 200 guys gathered on the occasion of my birthday.
I made a secret plan; I decided to turn off the light and stay quiet inside my room. I also locked the room from inside using the internal lock. I thought I was pretty safe. At around 11:30 pm, Anuj and Nigel came searching for me, as if they’d initiate the process. Even friends turned enemies, if it was a matter of celebrating someone’s birthday through GPL. Nigel was a shrewd guy! He found out that I was inside, through the small mesh near the bottom of the door (I always wondered why it was there in the first place!); he warned me, “We’ll break open your door, and don’t you worry!”
That assurance injected some fright in me. I quickly switched to another plan that I regarded as Plan ‘B’. And, that plan was made impromptu! It was second year. There were four wings in the hostel: A, B, C & D. My room was in B – First wing. There were three floors in every wing. The first floor of each wing was connected to every other with a connector. Every room had a balcony. One could easily cross balconies one by one, from the back side of the rooms, and go to the nearest connector between two wings. I could not do that! It was nearing midnight and guys were already coming in, and if they found me on the connector they wouldn’t leave me. So, I thought of something else. I could jump from the balcony to the ground floor, and the area I’d land on was not accessible from the ground floor, and it had a way out from the hostel directly. Nobody would notice. There was a frail neem tree near my balcony. I had seen a small video clip where the person, from the third floor, clung to a pine tree that bent and landed him on the ground floor. I recollected that, and crazily expected the neem tree to behave the same way! I stepped down on to the sunset near the balcony to get nearer to the neem tree; clung to it and let go!
“Slush!! Thomp!”
I landed face down in the puddle that had gathered there due to incessant rains for the past few days. The neem tree failed to meet my expectations, it didn’t bend to let me down, I just slipped off, and I landed awkwardly, and it pained, but not much as the pool of water acted like a cushion. I moved away from that place quickly; I could hear shouts of guys wanting me to open the door for them, and then I hard those bangs; they were trying to break open the door with kicks. It was ‘kick-the-door-at-will’! I knew I could trust Haroon to escape the infamous GPL, and hence I called him up from the common phone at the entrance of the hostel. I couldn’t risk my mobile when I had chances of getting drenched entirely, so I had left my mobile in my room, unfortunately. His room was in the A – Ground wing; near to the entrance of the hostel. I asked him to come back to his room. He agreed. I knew people were busy near my room! They still expected to find me inside! I ran across from the backside of the hostel towards the front and went to Haroon’s room in a hurry. And, I was saved. My face was covered with bruises. He cleared the wounds with Dettol and applied some ointment on them. He also gave me clothes to wear as I was completely wet due to rains and the puddle.
“I can’t stop laughing Sutirtho! You jumped face down into the puddle with the help of that neem tree! Such a valiant act on your birthday!” Haroon laughed hysterically.
“I mean, neem tree! Wow! You anticipated that it could take your weight?” Haroon couldn’t stop. I laughed at myself for that, it was really funny.
I slept in Haroon’s room that night. The following morning, when I went to my room, I saw that the door was almost broken; the interlock bent in such a way that the door could never open, and to add more to my woos, I couldn’t find my mobile when I went inside my room from the back side, by hopping over the balconies from the connector! Karan told me that it was with Anuj and I heaved a sigh of relief. But, I also came to know that someone had messaged and received calls when I was away. They were more interested in calls from girls, and they sent in funny messages as responses. One of them was, “Hi babes! I’m fully drunk, wanna party?”
I joined a very famous engineering college in Bangalore. I selected a branch which had fascinated me for quite a while; Information Science. I met Karan at the admission office. It was by chance. Some papers had fallen from his hand and I helped him gather those.
“Thanks buddy, I’m Karan. I’m in Information Science (IS).”
“Wow! You are my classmate! I’m Sutirtho!” I said.
We then talked about hostel room allotment, books, ragging and stuff. He said that four persons were supposed to stay in a single room in the first year. In the second year, however, everybody had his single room. At the hostel I met Haroon, Anuj and Nigel. They were my roommates. All of them were in Electronics and Communication engineering (ECE). The breaking-of-ice part was done, and we talked about our background, marks, options we got at different colleges etc.
“Sutirtho! Kewl name buddy! What does that mean?” Nigel asked.
I was quite familiar telling people about the significance of my name. I loved my name and was really proud that my mom chose it for me. I started explaining the meaning.
“Sutirtho is the ‘Bengali’ version or rather pronunciation of the Sanskrit word ‘Sutirtha’. It has a mythological significance. It was a place that was the part of the Kuru Kingdom. It was situated on the banks of river Amvumati. If one bathed there and worshipped the gods, he would gain the merit of Horse Sacrifice or Ashwamedha Yogya. ‘Su’ means ‘auspicious’ and ‘tirtha’ is ‘a place of pilgrimage’. So Sutirtha means ‘auspicious place of pilgrimage’.” I completed my lecture.
“Er. Umm. Okay..so Mr. Pilgrim.” Nigel smiled, “Thanks for sharing your mythological knowledge.”
“And what does Nigel mean?” I asked.
“Oh! That’s simple, no Indian mythological connotations here! My name has its origin in Irish and Gaelic, and it means ‘Champion’ or ‘Knight’. Nigel replied with a smile.
“Who’s next? Haroon?” Anuj chipped in.
“My name? Well.. er.. there’s an interesting piece of information to share. Haroon was a prophet as mentioned in the Quran. He used to exist during biblical times. In the Bible, however, he was mentioned as ‘Aaron’. And you know what? It’s ama-a-a-zing. They say Haroon lived for 122 years!!” Haroon’s eyes grew big as he talked.
“Haroon in Quran was Aaron in Bible?” I was intrigued.
“Yeah, there are so many other examples you know? For example, ‘Yusuf’ in Arabic is ‘Joseph’ for the Christians, ‘Mary’ i.e. Mother Mary for the Christians is ‘Maryam’ in Arabic. And then ‘Jacob’ in English is ‘Yaqub’. And these characters have high significance, in Bible and Quran.” Haroon said eloquently.
“Hey guys! That’s really interesting! By the way, as you should know, my name is a Sanskrit word meaning ‘younger brother’,” Anuj tried making his ‘common name’ look important.
“Yeah, we know that, we wouldn’t have asked you anyway!” Karan giggled.
I commented at that, “Hey co’on Karan, it’s not like that, we were just zeroing on to Anuj’s name; everyone should get the hot seat! And, how about you Karan?”
“Yeah, tell us, let me see what’s so uncommon about your layman name,” Anuj smirked.
“Karan IS Karan, Karan signifies me, isn’t that reason enough? You need a leader? Follow me!”
“Aahaa!! We have a VIP here!” Anuj laughed out loud and so did others.
“On a serious note, it’s derived from ‘Karna’ to give it a modern touch.” Karan said.
The chat was funny; it had been long since I’d got to know new guys, and make friends. I was, kind of, fed up of seeing the same set of faces at school, and discussing more of studies, than anything. The environment was much relaxed out there at college. It was a new life, a new beginning!
Nigel was very slim and almost the same height as me. He had a cute face; he looked no more than a sixteen year old. He hailed from Hyderabad in Andhra Pradesh. Karan and Haroon were taller than me. Anuj was a real stud. He had a typical V shaped boy, boyish charm and a square jaw. I really envied such a physique and looks. Haroon had a naïve and bland face, that would look the most unattractive of the lot, but somehow I found him very interesting; probably because I liked his intelligent and witty comments at times; intelligence was indeed a major turn on for me. Karan was from Mumbai and Anuj was from New Delhi. Haroon’s hometown was a place named Ratlam in Madhya Pradesh. People from five different parts, Hyderabad – New Delhi – Ratlam – Mumbai & Kolkata had become friends and that was amazing.
Haroon came back from the dinning room. He had plenty of things to share. He started, “Guys, we have so many instructions to follow. You people better make a note of things I’m sharing.”
“What’s that all about?” Karan asked. He stayed in a room opposite to ours.
“Well, it’s about how you behave with your seniors!”
“What the hell! They’ll teach us how to behave? Those buffoons!” Karan looked disgusted.
“That’s all part of the ragging buddy. You got to follow rules, else you are screwed.” Nigel pointed out.
Haroon continued “You will address any senior as ‘sir/ma’am’. You won’t look at their eyes while speaking; rather you should see the third button of your shirt from the top. You will append ‘Excuse me Sir/ Ma’am’ every time you speak! There are other instructions as well, but burn these in your brain; else you are in for trouble!”
“Are we allowed to say ‘Excuse me Sir, can I screw you sir!’?” I chortled. Everybody laughed boisterously at that.
“Ha ha! That was well said, but I guess if you replace ‘sir’ with ‘ma’am’ that question would be more significant!’ Karan remarked with a wink.
“Hey, I heard there’s some dress code we have to follow for few days?” Anuj asked.
“Oh! Yes, I know that, light coloured full sleeved shirt and dark coloured formal trousers. I have a pair for myself, how about you guys?” I asked.
The guys had managed those formal clothes. I was attending college straight out of school, so I had a strange feeling from wearing coloured clothes; I was used to the school uniform till then. We had to walk around 1.5 km to the college main building, four times everyday, i.e. two times to and fro. I expected to reduce my weight a lot because of that! The college timings were from 9:00 to 12:30pm and then 2:00 to 5:00pm. Karan used to sit with me initially. But soon we had more friends and we’d normally sit wherever we got a sit, as I’d be late to classes at times.
I befriended my roomies and Karan, slowly, as we started studying together and also saving each other from senior’s ragging. The courses in the 1st year were almost common for three branches; ECE, IS and CSE (i.e. Computer Science & Engineering). I started enjoying the hostel life, as I could see numerous guys, scantily clad going to the bathroom, or even gathering for a chat while inside the room. It was quite natural for lot of them to stay bare bone, but for me it was quite impossible to avoid a boner, as I saw them. The scenes inside a boys’ hostel were truly aphrodisiac, good enough to excite me into hand jobs daily. I wondered how curious girls could have gotten about us. Boys were in front of me, they were in my mind, my heart, and my thoughts. Guys, guys everywhere, not a girl to see. It was paradise! I ogled at them, and I didn’t feel there was anything else I could do. Boys’ hostel is the best place to survive. You get to see what you always wanted to see! And you get to smell, what you’d always liked, i.e. if you have a liking for male sweat smell. More things excited me: feet, hirsute legs.
Haroon helped me in everything. I got good vibes whenever I talked with him. He didn’t mind helping me even at that cost of his time, energy or anything. We started gelling well. Whenever I talked with him, I felt that he was one person who’d always understand me. Haroon, Anuj, Karan, Nigel and I used to go out on weekends for dinner and also to visit places in and around Bangalore. We formed a friend’s circle that made other people jealous. It was a closely knit group, and we were all family. We were the famous-five. That was the pet name given to our group.
Nigel brought the first desktop in our group. We were all so happy. We wouldn’t have to go to anybody else’s room to watch movies and erotic flicks. We inaugurated it with a ‘straight’ porn named milkman. We also saw a series of other pornos to placate our everlasting and ever-evolving lust. They commented lasciviously on the voluptuous girls with large breasts. I, however, was busy seeing the guys, and based my comments on them, replacing ‘his’ with ‘her’.
October, 2003
Ragging period, as they called it, was in full swing. There were some distinct groups in which the entire 1st year hostellers were divided into. Those were groups of ten and were given special names. That was done to all the 1st year batches; so, there was a hierarchy in the four batches year wise. For example, if a person belonged to say “Mughal - e - Azam” group, he had to memorize the name of all the seniors of the same group in all the years. Haroon, Karan & I was in the “Ashoka” group. It was our final day of ragging, as the seniors had told us that they wouldn’t continue after that, and we would be accepted as the part of college, unofficially, with the seniors treating us and calling is an ‘unofficial fresher’s night’. (There was a rule, that unless you were ragged you were not considered a part of the college hostellers.) We had to chant the names of all the seniors one by one, without default. If we missed a name or fumbled we’d get slapped. I had written down all the names and the places from where they’d come in order, starting from final year to 3rd year. I kept that piece of paper in my pocket; Karan told me not to do it, but still I kept it, so that while going to the seniors’ hostel I could see them on my way and try remembering names. We were dressed in full sleeved shirts, black trousers and we had to wish every senior coming on our way, “Excuse me Sir! Good Afternoon Sir!”
We reached the room where we were called. We were a bunch of ten guys. The questioning and things began as usual and we were doing well. Suddenly, one of the seniors, named Roshan, found out the piece of paper inside my pocket.
“Ho – ho ho! Look what we have here!” Roshan was absolutely amused.
And then when he read out that piece, and in the process he discovered something which I had written purposely. I had associated his name with a place named Sonagachi, near Kolkata. That place is a prominent red light area in the suburbs of Kolkata, famous for prostitutes, and the sex business. Roshan was from Kolkata as well, and he knew the significance of that place totally. He was infuriated and started slapping me, hurling abuses at the same time. Other seniors came and stopped him. They tried to cool him down. One of them came to me and told me to explain. I kept quite and repeated “Excuse me Sir! Sorry Sir!” The seniors gave us a warning. They said that we wouldn’t be freed from ragging if a proper explanation of that was not given to them. They gave us ten minutes to think and decide.
Haroon had an idea impromptu. He whispered to Karan and me, “Sutirtho! Let’s solve it this way; we will tell him that you never knew of that place and its significance before. We were just discussing things and somebody had joked and said that Roshan had come from that place. It was a joke and you didn’t understand it; you were preparing that list at that time and you wrote down. We’ll portray you as geek, bookworm types where you didn’t have ideas of these things.”
I was impressed with that. Haroon indeed handled the crunch situation so well; and I just said “Yes” every time the seniors asked me a question. This made me more attached to him; I had started developing faint likeness for him.
April, 2004
It was the end of 2nd Semester; the exams were round the corner, and I was down with tremendous fever. My room mates were concerned about my health. They admitted me to a nearby hospital. It was the one that was tagged for treating guys and girls from our college. Haroon stayed awake for me, the four nights I was in that place. Nigel, Anuj and Karan would visit either in the morning or evening, taking turns, but Haroon did the hard thing of staying with me at night. He’d help me with the medicines, fruits and dinner, and slept on the sofa besides my bed.
When I came back, I found out that I had to complete a ‘Digital Electronics’ assignment. There were around six questions to be written and other people in our batch were ready with their stuff. Karan had convinced the rest of the class that they would submit the sessional assignment only after I would complete it. Haroon brought some fruits for me.
“Doctor’s advise, I can’t help it.”
“Thanks Haroon, you have taken so much care of me, like my parents. I will repay you some day if I can.”
“Don’t you say that Sutirtho, there’s no repaying back between best friends.”
“I know Haroon! You have been the best guy I’ve ever had as a friend. I’m just worried that you spoilt so much of time for me. I guess, your studies have been hampered soooo much.”
“You know, studies happen only during the preparatory leave (PL), and that has started just two days back. By the way, I have written your sessional, you can go ahead and submit that.”
“Really? My.. My… Why? I could have managed well.”
“You couldn’t have managed well; you and I know that very well! It will take at least one more week to fully recover and feel strong, and while recovering, it will be good if you just try and concentrate on your studies rather than trying to figure out solutions to weird problems!”
“But Haroon, this is not done! You are being so selfless buddy!”
“I care for you.”
Haroon didn’t say a word more. His last statement and the silence that followed were clear indications of how he regarded me as a friend. I had already developed so many feelings for him, but I was scared about telling him things as I didn’t want to lose him as a friend. I knew I couldn’t get anyone better than him, if I lost him. I was being selfish to myself and selfless for him, and I buried my feelings deep within an unfathomable depth in my heart. His presence used to make me very happy, and the smile on his lips mesmerized me. I thought to myself, I analysed my luck, I couldn’t have asked for something better to happen. When I came to the college, I desired for a very close friend with whom I could share all my feelings, emotions and secrets. I never got such a friend in school. The ones I trusted so much betrayed me, and for them the entire class came to know about my homosexual aspects and I was cornered. I always wished to share things with someone. I didn’t know when I began trusting Haroon so much, but still I stopped myself from expressing everything I could say. Just one thing stopped me, I didn’t know what would Haroon’s reaction be if he would ever come to know the truth about me; that I was interested in guys and not girls; that it was something weird, and that’s what I always felt, that I had some mental problem. That was so ‘un-straight’. I couldn’t take my eyes off the bare guys in the bathrooms and toilets. I couldn’t think of anything erotic about girls for my hand job. Could I ever tell these things to Haroon? Could he ever be the vent for my feelings? I sighed.
August, 2004
It was my birthday after three days. Karan somehow came to know that. He sent an SMS to everybody he knew. He didn’t mind forwarding it to girls!
“Hey! It’s Sutirtho’s birthday on 24th August. Please join me in the celebration with a grand GPL at room number 6125 on 23rd night at 11:55 pm.”
He forwarded a copy to me! The stretched form of GPL was “Gaand Pe Laath” or “Kick on butt”. That was the best way of celebrating anything. Be it birthday, good results, campus placements, or anything that’d be a reason of celebration; the person had to undergo a GPL by all his friends. And god it was so painful. You can’t sit for a few days properly, because along with the legs, guys also used belts, shoes, or sandals for the cause, and you’d contort with the pain in your arse for sometime.
“Hi! Sutirtho! I’ll come to wish you,” I could see many guys saying that whenever they’d meet me. As if my birthday was a festival to celebrate. I couldn’t imagine, what my condition would be if 200 guys gathered on the occasion of my birthday.
I made a secret plan; I decided to turn off the light and stay quiet inside my room. I also locked the room from inside using the internal lock. I thought I was pretty safe. At around 11:30 pm, Anuj and Nigel came searching for me, as if they’d initiate the process. Even friends turned enemies, if it was a matter of celebrating someone’s birthday through GPL. Nigel was a shrewd guy! He found out that I was inside, through the small mesh near the bottom of the door (I always wondered why it was there in the first place!); he warned me, “We’ll break open your door, and don’t you worry!”
That assurance injected some fright in me. I quickly switched to another plan that I regarded as Plan ‘B’. And, that plan was made impromptu! It was second year. There were four wings in the hostel: A, B, C & D. My room was in B – First wing. There were three floors in every wing. The first floor of each wing was connected to every other with a connector. Every room had a balcony. One could easily cross balconies one by one, from the back side of the rooms, and go to the nearest connector between two wings. I could not do that! It was nearing midnight and guys were already coming in, and if they found me on the connector they wouldn’t leave me. So, I thought of something else. I could jump from the balcony to the ground floor, and the area I’d land on was not accessible from the ground floor, and it had a way out from the hostel directly. Nobody would notice. There was a frail neem tree near my balcony. I had seen a small video clip where the person, from the third floor, clung to a pine tree that bent and landed him on the ground floor. I recollected that, and crazily expected the neem tree to behave the same way! I stepped down on to the sunset near the balcony to get nearer to the neem tree; clung to it and let go!
“Slush!! Thomp!”
I landed face down in the puddle that had gathered there due to incessant rains for the past few days. The neem tree failed to meet my expectations, it didn’t bend to let me down, I just slipped off, and I landed awkwardly, and it pained, but not much as the pool of water acted like a cushion. I moved away from that place quickly; I could hear shouts of guys wanting me to open the door for them, and then I hard those bangs; they were trying to break open the door with kicks. It was ‘kick-the-door-at-will’! I knew I could trust Haroon to escape the infamous GPL, and hence I called him up from the common phone at the entrance of the hostel. I couldn’t risk my mobile when I had chances of getting drenched entirely, so I had left my mobile in my room, unfortunately. His room was in the A – Ground wing; near to the entrance of the hostel. I asked him to come back to his room. He agreed. I knew people were busy near my room! They still expected to find me inside! I ran across from the backside of the hostel towards the front and went to Haroon’s room in a hurry. And, I was saved. My face was covered with bruises. He cleared the wounds with Dettol and applied some ointment on them. He also gave me clothes to wear as I was completely wet due to rains and the puddle.
“I can’t stop laughing Sutirtho! You jumped face down into the puddle with the help of that neem tree! Such a valiant act on your birthday!” Haroon laughed hysterically.
“I mean, neem tree! Wow! You anticipated that it could take your weight?” Haroon couldn’t stop. I laughed at myself for that, it was really funny.
I slept in Haroon’s room that night. The following morning, when I went to my room, I saw that the door was almost broken; the interlock bent in such a way that the door could never open, and to add more to my woos, I couldn’t find my mobile when I went inside my room from the back side, by hopping over the balconies from the connector! Karan told me that it was with Anuj and I heaved a sigh of relief. But, I also came to know that someone had messaged and received calls when I was away. They were more interested in calls from girls, and they sent in funny messages as responses. One of them was, “Hi babes! I’m fully drunk, wanna party?”
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'Part 2: New life! New Beginning!' statistics: (click to read)
