Tuesday, April 1, 2014


cover photograph by duyum dulom
So waiting for my turn, I’m sitting in the most depressing place on earth- the hallway outside the Principal’s office on the day after the scout camp got over. Varun Batra is already inside, and you never know what that jackass was gonna say. The dude can’t hold back anything for long. He’ll crack soon although he considers himself to be a tough cookie and everything. He is a jerk alright, but is the wussy variety, and that’s what sets him apart from the normal jerks of St. Michael’s- the fact that he couldn’t man-up to confront you in your face for nuts. So if he was mad at you, what he’d do is, he’d take a revenge pee in the pool when you’re in it too. Father Dogzilla, our Principal, is a savage predator and very well knows the drill with the likes of him. To say the least, he can make goats sing, and he’s at making one right now.

Meanwhile Chetan, the famous dork sitting next to me, is crying his heart out. I’m talking about the malnourished Chetan; the other one, Mermaid, is two years our junior. This dude’s the kind who’s got at home one of everything you’re talking about. You name it, and he’s got it, or his dad has it, or the mother-in-law of his goddamn uncle’s great grandma has it. Even if you were talking about scud missiles, he’d tell you he’s got one in his back yard. Anyways, sitting right next to me, he’s weeping like a queen rather effortlessly, and trust me, it can depress the hell outta you, especially when you’re already feeling sick in the stomach. It’s just the three of us right now, ‘cause Kabir, my best friend, doesn’t need to testify, at least for the time being, as he’s lying leg-up in trauma somewhere in Naidu Memorial.

So I sit there in the miserable hallway with this whiny dingus right besides me blowing his nose all over the place for nearly two hundred friggin hours, when finally Varun Batra emerges out of Dogzilla’s hole like a celebrity, all sweaty and red as hell, with “I’m royally screwed” written all over his pimply face. Poor thing was out of wind. So he first struggles to control his wind and everything, then he manages to tell me, we’re royally screwed, pfft like I didn’t know we were! But before I even get the time to look into his eyes and find out if he has already ratted us out, I hear a roar from behind- Dogzilla yelling my name out. So what I do, I slowly move my ass into his office, and oh what can I say! A mere look of that place could send willies up your spines. In my case it was also bad memories that tumbled back in. You ask me, the room is like a real treat. It actually looks like a flea market took a crap in there. It’s crammed with millions of Dogzilla’s favorite things- all his mementos, and photographs, and wall hangers, and showpieces, and whatnots- and guess what, he’s got extremely bad taste in everything you could possibly think of. You just have to take a look at that fading fake reindeer-head fixed above that window to confirm. Even his paperweight is flashy with a glowing bulb inside that transparent thingy. Don't be surprised if you ever find a reptile hidden somewhere under his table there. And it’s behind all that heap of trash that you finally get a peek of the prince himself, his dreadful face stuck on his shoulders without a neck. Dogzilla is so ugly, so goddamn ugly that if a water buffalo and Popeye’s girlfriend Olive Oyl, were also in the contest, it’d be a freaking tie between the three, if you know what I mean. In fact you don’t need to know if he’s fat or thin, or hairy or lanky, or squint eyed or floppy, ‘cause in the face of the kinda intense ugliness he radiated, none of it counted. You cant blame his wife when, in public, she tries and stays away from where he’s standing as much as possible, and go sticks next to Tyagi or somebody a bit less obvious. Navin Tyagi from the chemistry department is not a beauty queen himself, but put next to Dogzilla, he shines like a new coin. You must have watched Monsters Inc, I suppose. Well, this one sitting in front of me is like catching it live! Dogzilla almost always wore shades like it was lunar eclipse or something. Maybe he wanted to hide the shame in his eyes, or maybe the dark circles, I'm still not sure which one exactly. Riddled with a million personality disorders, it’s not difficult to understand that it’s his appearance and his wife’s unwelcoming attitude towards it that made him this extremely bitter person he is today. Can’t blame the prince if when it comes to hurting people’s feelings, he’s always a five on five!

So I’m standing there in front of him and his pile of crap with zero hope. He’s reading a book, and without raising his head, greets me rather indifferently although, being the school long jump champion and all, you might think it’d be a hoot for him to see me again. He almost never asks you to sit down, so he directly gets to the point, tell me son, what actually happened? I assume my surprised-raccoon face and say, sir? He looks up from his book this time and says, don’t make me say everything twice, son. You heard me! I suddenly get goose bumps and all, and I say, I honestly don’t remember a thing, sir. Dogzilla doesn’t look surprised or anything. It’s like he expected me to say exactly that, or maybe he believed me, which is only less likely from past experience. But what can I say, he’s a natural! He says, okay then tell me about what happened up until you lost your memory. He’s partly ridiculing me, but then I had to maintain my calm. So I say, we all reached at the campsite by eleven and we were assigned tents in a group of- he doesn’t let me finish, and impatiently interrupts, skip the daytime son, I was there too, tell me about the evening. Say, start after the cultural activities got over. So I say, then we had dinner, then we split, and returned to our tents, and went to sleep. And when I woke up the next morning, I got to know Kabir fell from the tree, and that Varun and Saurabh were missing. Then we all started- he interrupts me yet again, but son, you missed out the part between where you went to sleep and woke up the next morning. What happened there? Ha, this one was a real head scratcher, so I reassume my surprised-raccoon face and say, sir? -to which he rolls his eyes and say, I thought you understood before when I said, don’t make me repeat myself. (Holy moly! Believe me, I got it)! Then he says, okay forget it. Just tell me whose idea was it? I know it was the four of you together, but who came up with the idea first? Frankly I was not in the mood. You ask me all you want, even try some torturing, but I’m not telling you anything you freaking son of a gun, I said that with my eyes. Maybe he read it instantly ‘cause in the very next minute he slows down and sits back even smiling a little. Then he says, the management is very disturbed about the whole issue and wants it seriously looked into. Well, the management is disturbed about every-freaking-thing, just in case you are wondering. But to tell you the truth, it was Dogzilla who’s in trouble, and we all knew that. So I was gonna stay put till the old fart eventually gave up. But he is a real force of nature, you know that? He never gives up, ‘cause suddenly he switches tactics and says, you tell me what actually happened and I spare you! Woohoo, slowdown grandfather! I couldn’t believe my ears. Then he continues, I know you are intelligent son, and unlike the other flunkeys you know better. Tell me everything, and you walk. Sweet Moses! It’s not the voices in my head, I confirm this time. Dogzilla is actually saying it out loud. I’m so happy that I’m about to pass out. Out of excitement I even went to the bathroom a little. I immediately do a little Math in my head. So if I was gonna walk and Kabir was safe in the hospital, who cares about the other two losers. I take a few seconds to come to terms with it all, and finally tell Dogzilla everything, from how we knew about his bottle of scotch, to how we stole it from his tent after he crashed, and how bad it tasted, and how, after consuming it, we pinky-swore to not tell anybody about it, and how later that night Kabir climbed the tree and refused to get down, and how the other two guys strayed into the woods in the meantime searching for a ladder, and how I ran for help and finally blacked out in the tent holding on the empty bottle. Dogzilla patiently listens to the true story, and the moment I finish he goes into a tailspin and starts yelling at me like a psycho-man. He suddenly forgets all his promises and everything. It’s actually human rights violation, breach of trust and all. You ask anybody in St. Michael’s, peace with Dogzilla never lasts longer than a toffee. He yells and yells till a few of his veins pop from his forehead. And you gotta understand, this is despite the fact that he loves me deep down. I feel so sorry for the prince, so I finally say, I’m so sorry we finished it all, sir, but I could ask my father to replace your scotch. That was like the final blow. It actually sounded better in my head. I knew he didn’t like it, so I say, maybe with two bottles? It just got totally bend out of shape after that. Stars and clouds and everything you see flying out of an angry head in cartoons burst out of Dogzilla’s gorgeous face. He always tells the nicest things when he’s annoyed. Finally on the other side of the cursing game, before totally kicking me out, he barks, you really thought I’d let you go for creating all that ruckus, you stupid worm! We will all meet tomorrow again, and this time with your parents. Then I went flying out of the door. He sent me alive so that I could go out and spread the joy. So I walk up to Chetan, who was still moaning like a suffering dog, and say, get up and go home. I took care of it. He did not get it then, but when he later did he stopped talking to me altogether. He, Kabir Waqif, Varun Batra and I were suspended from St. Michael’s for three weeks starting that day. Kabir did not stop talking to me, probably ‘cause he did not know what actually happened. By the time he was back from hospital, people had moved on and were talking about other stuff. Even if he did, he couldn’t have not talked to me forever and all since we are like buddies and everything. But I was not sure about Varun Batra. So I never went swimming with him ever again.

“I am very sorry for what I did. I promise I shall never repeat it. I rightfully deserve the punishment I'm given. ” The prince made us write that a thousand times each before we returned to his land. He’s so old school, that ugly bastard who broke my trust. And you wonder why God is harsh on some people!
Also from the 'Raza' series;



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1 comment:

  1. This post has been selected for the Tangy Tuesday Picks this week. Thank You for an amazing post! Cheers! Keep Blogging :)


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