the drifter chronicles - episode 2 - the fountains of youth

Prologue

"who is this guy? jayaprakash....come here you idiot!"

JayaPrakash or JP, one of the few crossbreeds between a nerd and a drifter (yeah, they do exist) walks slowly up the dais to meet Zach Sir (fake name, of course!)

"you wrote this answer? what are you made of? poop?"

JP stands silent, ever mindful of the giggles and titters behind him. Rage slowly simmers in him but he knows he can't bait him anymore than necessary.

"you should be named parajay andhakar not Jayaprakash!!"

Zach sniggered and the frontbenchers duly joined in...Well, to be fair, so did some of us. It was not a bad effort by Zach sir as the funniest thing he ever did was flatulence!

Part I - The Plan

To say we hated him would have been an understatement. He was a jerk (to us adolescents) and always on the lookout for the slightest of vagrancy which he punished heavily. Girls alone escaped his wrath, though the price they had to pay was to see his slobbery girth planted on their desktops (the wooden one not PCs!) while he delivered sermons on mitochondria. Among the guys only Chandu was spared as his dad was an influential PWD Contractor and this slob had some underhand dealings with him (or so we heard)

I was a scapegoat to his mid-class heroics a lot and have come close to being his bete-noire after JP. Did not bother me much as being BN to all other teachers, it was a refreshing change not to be one. Like Dhoni sitting out at Colombo test.

Soon we decided that we had to deal a blow back to him. Not explicitly of course. The Gilt Attack fracas (or rumpus or whateva!) has actually made us lie low for a while.

We decided that our blow would be subtle, dark and blackly funny...like the horses head on your bed when you wake up in the morning. I had been recently struck by the lightning called God father and my brain usually worked in a very Sicilian way. I had gone so far as to respond to my moms questions about wasted dinner by saying "its not personal, is business"

Anyway, the horses head idea was wildly cheered upon but the problem was:

a. Zach did not own even a dog let alone a horse
b Who would cut whatsoever head and deposit it in his bed?

Finally, me and nub hit upon a brilliant idea...far more subtle...more jolt per drop (pun intended and you'll know why, later...) and classy!!

We will spray his shirt with something stinky and smelly so that he stinks the whole day. By the way, he had acute sinusitis and was stone smell blind. So our revenge would be a double blow to him. To anoint him with stink and also humiliate him by making him stink all day and not realizing it.

We had decided on the delivery medium to be a 15 ml syringe with a needle attached which would give us the precision surgical (pun!!) strike at our target viz; the lower left back of Zach's shirt. The problem was to decide on what to spray. There were no intense juvenile delinquents in history like us who could solve any problems of general mischief-mongery in a flash but this had us stumped. What to get? Where to get? How to get?

The solution was given by Sandy and unlike most of his other ideas this was simple and easy to acquire. Three simple words: "Use Your Pee"

Part II - The Preparation

[a minute of silence for you to let out that gasp of shock and also to assimilate the degree of evil that pre-pubescent are capable of]

To cut a long story short, the plan was approved and we proceeded to utilize the hour before his class to put it into action. It was a SUPW class and well, treated with mild disdain by us.

We three, long before Al Qaeda or Mossad we had perfected the idea of small independent cells working on a specific attack, so that's why there were only 3, went to implement the plan which was simplicity in itself. We had the syringe, the needle and a plastic bottle as the reactor cascade (ahem!) for the bio weapon (ahem!)

Barring the fact that it is a tough task to direct the discharge of the weapon from the reactor to the cascade is a tricky one (ahem, i prefer talking in terms of nuclear science rather than anatomy so that the modesty of my readers is not affronted) and that performance anxiety prevented the other two members in an effective transfer and I had to step in, all went well. We soon had the liquid in all its golden glow en consed in the syringe.

Part III - The Execution

We had already selected the suitable point of deployment and when Zach, his usual obnoxious self, was lecturing in full flow to the female side of the class, I released the liquid and saw it as it made a satisfying patch on the designated area. The team members gave me silent nods of appreciation as the target was unaware.

Words fail to explain the warmth that spread in our hearts seeing that warm yellow spread over his cotton off-white shirt. The sarcastic jokes, caustic comments and various forms of torture we had been subjected to disappeared like the yellow fluid from the syringe.

We were soon struck out of our reverie by this exclamation from D, one of the girls who was close to being labeled class enemy by us were it not for the fact that she was really cute and most of the drifters had crushes on her.

"Sirrrrr.....there is something on your shirt"

Zach was nonplussed and he touched and rubbed the spot to feel the change in texture. We waited with bated breath as the inevitable happened. Any member of human race have some distinguishing traits that mark them different from other mammals. I mean, a chimp would never, ever proceed to do what Zach proceeded to do. He slowly rubbed the insulting wetness between his fingers and smelled it in a long drag.

There are limits to sinusitis as there are limits to a mosquito coil in stopping a velociraptor attack. Same thing happened here as his the pungent ammoniac compound that forms a major part of urine attacked his nasal system. The first wave of casualties were the dense growth of Zach's nasal hair which either proceeded to do two things. The least brave of them were charred beyond recognition while the more robust ones curled in distaste into small furry balls into the roof. The next wave happened when his unsuspecting mucus membrane was exposed to it. Years of smoking and a penchant for snuff would have desensitized it to a point of indifference, you think? Well no, the flinch of his upper nose was evidence enough for that. Soon, his brain registered the inevitable and the 4 gene sequences, Messers. Shame, Embarrassment, Incredulity and to a small part, Rage swung to work and there were fleeting glimpses of their handiwork in his face.

The warm glow blazed into fire of retribution and slowly into dread. The gilt incident had kind of exhausted our already meager bank balance of repute and if this got out we would be doomed. What happened next is engraved in our collective minds.

Zach regains his composure in a flick, swats off his hands in a gesture of exaggerated nonchalance, flicks imaginary lint from his sleeves and says:

Part IV - The Escape

"it must be the sulphuric acid from the chemistry lab"

the drifter chronicles - episode 1 - the gilt attack

[The inspiration for this post came from two places. Me inadvertently stumbling on the ever funny SImpu Singh clips on You Tube. It used to feature the simple school teacher Simpu Singh Sodhi and his antics. The phonetically challenged guy had his way of shouting “Pankazzzzzz” to my eternal amusement. I still roll on the floor laughing watching them and find it more amusing the one track demented antics of Lola Kutty fare that they dish out in Channel [V]. Believe me, they have stretched the “zimbly” and “temble” more than a stressed mallu’s lungi!

[If you don’t remember any of the Simpu clips refresh your memory here]

Anyway, if you had noticed closely, you would realize that the school that featured as Simpu’s haunt was Kendriya Vidyalaya, my alma mater! Indeed, in this clip, they actually have the school song featuring in it. The translation goes like this “India’s golden honor will be lifted up further by us KVians…” I remember hearing this bleated out by the school choir while tasting my first cigarette and feeling a (slight) pang of guilt.

And the second inspiration was from Pavi, who would never say die till I became a regular blogger, as regular as her. So I dedicate this to you Pavi!

We learn the lessons late in life that nostalgia is woken up more by the dulcet tones of mundane stuff we did back more than the blaring beats of all the supposedly awesome stuff we did. Those clips and the subtle hints of KV life hit me harder than a two ton truck and the memories came flooding back.

Well, enough of nostalgia and tear stained sighs….let me get back to my groove and take you through some of my memories of those days.]

Episode 1 – The “Gilt” Attack!

It was one of those god send weeks at KV where all we had to do was make exhibits for the upcoming Natioanl Level Science Exhibition. Classes were going on at a lackluster pace and as usual, our class, VIIIB, was abuzz with activity. At these times, you see the caste system in full force there. No the one that makes Arjun Singh drool and dole out quotas like extras in a Sreesanth over, but the sects and subsects of the adolescent group dynamics (phew!). Briefly, you had:

Nerds – Wasting valuable time sitting and trying to find out the 17^th root of irrational numbers.Conversations with them usually turned out to be like this:

Me: Me: So what was your score in the Class test?
Nerd: … my marks are equal to the 4^th root of killers’ coefficient minus the irrational l part
Me: (Nervous Laugh) talk about being lucky!

Ass Kissers – The ones with the most displayed enthusiasm fighting it out in the classrooms to make the most profligate displays just to get a good word in with the teacher. They have their heads so far up the teachers backside that most of the do resemble colonoscopes

c. Jocks – For want of a better name, Jocks run of to the stadium at the drop of a hat to engage in their favorite sports all of them which involved hitting harder, running faster or stretching more with macho grunts at the closest proximity of any member of the female species. (Actually, the scientists have discovered that the shortest measured unit of time is the jock second or the amount of time lapsed between the teacher announcing recess and the jock reaching the tracks/stadium/gym)

d. Drifters – These were the dregs of the class. The members of ABBA (All BackBenchers Association) and various other entirely ineffective gangs who had one thing in common sheer abhorrence to any mental or physical activity and united by the cult motto having fun in the most wackiest way possible. Ah, I see you smirking and mouthing the word “LOSER”. Nay, usually, the toppers, athletes, school captains and the people who achieve the best in their life comes from this group. True Story!

Now, yours truly was a member of the drifters (obviously) and lingering around the class watching various groups battling it out. A sight that would put the building site of an Egyptian Pyramid to shame! Seats pouring over brows that are tightened while applying fevicol to cardboard, hands moving in unison to cut thermocol in the right possible shape (that of the roof of a garbage plant, what a waste!)

At that time, we were engaged in building the easiest of things to make in a science project, The Ecosystem! Cut thermocol, make shapes of mountains and rivers (go wild here!) and fix some figures of animals, PRESTO! Your ecosystem model is ready. You see, being a drifter did not mean shirking from work but trying to achieve maximum gain in the least possible amount of effort and with the major part of time left for trivial pursuits. The above mentioned thermocol pieces were juxtaposed between the wild raging bull figure and a 2 inch tall hyena (well, in our defense if the continents hadn’t drifted the world WOULD have been witness to such marvels in our ecosystem)

The effort had tired us and we were glancing around and commenting generously on our esteemed classmates work. I looked at what looked like the model of an Oil Rig and commented to the nerd – ass kisser hybrid (of the mutations in these species are too many) next to me,

“Nice Work, so you building an Oil Refinery?”

(Gnashing teeth) “No, it’s the Eiffel Tower”

“Oh, speaking of which, the Video Library guy asked me to remind you that you haven’t yet returned Rebecca in Paris cassette”

Loud guffaws from my partners in crime and giggles from the girls around made him look like the Pope at an IPL Cheerleader concert.

I was piling it on. He wanted to punch me. But how to with one hand! (His other holding one small card board strip precariously perched on a slice of thermocol)

While passing time like this, Sarun’s eyes fell on a shiny packet in the class store cupboard. The protagonist of this pots a nice thick packet of Gilt Powder

Gilt Powder (Scientific Name: Giltifera Nevagonnawashoff) One of the most sticky and potent material known to man available in different colors and luminescent in nature. It has been known to attach itself to the human body and nothing short of one of those laser hair removal treatments would take it of (The ones by Alana of New York…or is it Rebecca in Paris?)

Anyway, it used to be an unavoidable part of any science project in KV. In its various forms, it was gold in ornaments, metals in mines, sparkling sea, oil spills. In effect, it was the Aamir Khan of stationery; Versatile, Handles any kind of roles and Interferes too much!

The word he said after that to me still sends a shiver down my spine, even after 10 years:

“Ten bucks says I can throw this pack through the blades of the fan”

The scene after ten seconds of this statement was utterly chaotic. It was like the end of space and time and gilt was ll that had survived. Thank fully the fan had a slight tilt and the whole pack had been carpet bombed into one corner of the class and its occupants, the nerds where now looking like the entire cast of Ramanand Sagar’s Alif Laila.

Unfortunately, the perpetrators, us, where right in front of them (a grave deviation from our usual modus operandi wherein we are far away from the scene of crime when it happens and enjoying the view from a previously decided vantage point) and more so unfortunate was the fact that it wasn’t the only pack of gilt in the wardrobe!

(The author of this post would like to draw a curtain on the proceedings for the next 15 minutes so as not to offend the readers with a display of primal attack instincts and brutual violence)

The bedlam ended when the gilt was evenly distributed as per the laws of demand, supply and rage and everyone settled back into their seats. Like Sunil Joshi missing any catch higher than 3 feet, what missed our view was the sparkling state of affairs. Soon, the hour ended and the next one was Physics taken by Ms BM. This business like lady would never miss a class and rumor has it that she actually delivered her baby a week late so as not to miss the extra lectures for the clas XII board exams.

She breezed in and started to take attendance. Unmindful of the fact that the whole class was now covered evenly in a thin layer of guilt and thinking only of converting the potential energy of a trapped stone in a tower to kinetic energy. It would have entirely escaped her notice had it not been for SK (I cant take his real name here coz he is a well respected surgeon now!) or to be more exact his complexion.

He used to put Curtly Ambrose to shame with his dark toned skin and on him, the gilt was having a field day. It was like the international consumer exhibition of gilt and they were basking in the glory and sparkling away to glory on his ebony skin. The speechless expression in her face was one to behold and soon, like a patient detective ( Hercle Poirot with a touch of Isaac Newton, if you will) she unraveled this whole episode and needless to say, we 4 of the Drifters were found guilty as charged.

The punishment meted out (16 rounds across the athletic track in hot sun) was totally worth for the fact that we could see the “shining” visages of our class for the next whole month. More than 4 guys from our class could not walk together due to the blinding glare the synergy of gilt produced and even, it was said, ten of standing together for assembly prayer resulted in ruptured corneas for 6 of the senior staff.

(Next: Episode 2 – The Cracker Menace)

(PS: Apologies for the over use of cricket metaphors as I have been watching too many IPL matches)