It was 00.00.15. Finally the time had come. We decided to move according to our ‘plan’. The conditions prevailing were perfectly fitting for the execution of anything you could call a plan - "tedious exam season". The Plan was simple, 'a Night out'. That was the last part. To have a night ride to Buhari (a hotel in kizhakkekotta) have food from there (mutton chops was really popular back then) and study the whole night (if possible) was the plan.
The last semester exams were going on and we were having a combined study. We (me and Narayanan) started our preparations earlier than usual, two days before the exam and had every sort of frustrations doing an act we were not so used to. Someone proposed the plan and everyone seconded the idea without any second thought. Whole day went without much ado planning the night out. Obviously studying nothing....
So we set for Buhari in a bike. The signs weren’t that good. The Bike, like any other two-wheeler in the college didn’t hear much about the word petrol after its initial heydays. All those who use it fill petrol as per their need nothing more if not less. So we had to make a stop at the nearest petrol bunk, Pattom. It was supposed to be a temporary halt but was looking as if it would get extended a bit more than we expected. Even after many attempts lid of the tank didn’t open. The suggestions from the bike owner Peppatti (I’m not trying to be profane here, that’s how he was known in college) proved to be futile. Finally one among the onlookers came forward and offered help. He simply broke that lid open and placed it in my hand. I don’t know if we were supposed to thank him or not. Before we could decide he left not waiting for our response and so we continued our journey.
We reached Kizhakkekotta without much problems but to our dismay Buhari was closed. It used to be open till 2 am or even later. Only then we came to know that authorities, who ever that is, asked them and every other hotel in the city to be closed by 12. On our insistence they were ready to give us parcel, asked us not to wait in front of the hotel and create a problem for them. We started walking in the gravely silent city. Both of us were busy with our mobiles, didn’t realize we were quite in the middle of the road, suddenly made aware by a headlight from an approaching vehicle.
Before I could draw any conclusion the vehicle had reached closer and took a sudden halt just near by us.
A highly censored version is scribed here for public reading. Those who are interested I can provide a detailed version.
I don’t know his name. I still don't. So let me call this unknown entity, 'X'.
We pointed towards buhari. He instructed his subordinate to enquire. As Buhari was supposed to be closed by that time they didn’t have to be generous and save us, which they didn’t. I meant they weren’t so generous. We stood there before the police officer like two culprits who were waiting for the area to clear, to put their plan into action. X looked so happy to have captured two preys.
The interrogation started (this is where I had to use my editing tool).
This has been one dialogue that saved us for years. I didn’t think this would serve the purpose here but still gave in a try. They don’t have any respect for CETians, but certainly were bored of us. According to the CET myths it is said that a new Police Station was established in Sreekaryam near our college only to keep CET case files. Anyway he changed the pattern of questioning, as our status changed from criminals to Uzhappanmar. Mr. X then started acting much like our staff advisor, started lecturing on how students like us studying in such a reputed college waste our lives as our parents are not aware how we are dealing with our studies. He asked us to call our parents and tell them the situation we were in.
Even after exhibiting the maximum flexibility of our back bone he didn’t waiver. One after another we were supposed to call our parents. Narayan took his mob dialed his dad’s no.
Slap
Before he could say anything another one followed.
Slap
I was waiting for my turn to come, It didn’t (It’s true, believe me)
(We had to try very hard not to laugh at that. What has he got to do with our 'back logs' ?)
Me and Narayan were unanimous in saying “illa Sir”. Even our old King Harishchandra would have preferred to lie.
X turned towards me, asked few questions and made sure I’m giving the same answers. By that time Buhari hotel people admitted that they had taken a parcel order. we were saved.
On the way back Narayan asked me not to mention the incident to anyone in the hostel, which as a matter of fact I didn’t do, more over added masala while narrating. Narayan couldn’t enter Hostel for days.
The last semester exams were going on and we were having a combined study. We (me and Narayanan) started our preparations earlier than usual, two days before the exam and had every sort of frustrations doing an act we were not so used to. Someone proposed the plan and everyone seconded the idea without any second thought. Whole day went without much ado planning the night out. Obviously studying nothing....
So we set for Buhari in a bike. The signs weren’t that good. The Bike, like any other two-wheeler in the college didn’t hear much about the word petrol after its initial heydays. All those who use it fill petrol as per their need nothing more if not less. So we had to make a stop at the nearest petrol bunk, Pattom. It was supposed to be a temporary halt but was looking as if it would get extended a bit more than we expected. Even after many attempts lid of the tank didn’t open. The suggestions from the bike owner Peppatti (I’m not trying to be profane here, that’s how he was known in college) proved to be futile. Finally one among the onlookers came forward and offered help. He simply broke that lid open and placed it in my hand. I don’t know if we were supposed to thank him or not. Before we could decide he left not waiting for our response and so we continued our journey.
We reached Kizhakkekotta without much problems but to our dismay Buhari was closed. It used to be open till 2 am or even later. Only then we came to know that authorities, who ever that is, asked them and every other hotel in the city to be closed by 12. On our insistence they were ready to give us parcel, asked us not to wait in front of the hotel and create a problem for them. We started walking in the gravely silent city. Both of us were busy with our mobiles, didn’t realize we were quite in the middle of the road, suddenly made aware by a headlight from an approaching vehicle.
Me: Da athoru Police jeep ano ennoru samshayam?
Narayan: Aey alladei.
Before I could draw any conclusion the vehicle had reached closer and took a sudden halt just near by us.
A highly censored version is scribed here for public reading. Those who are interested I can provide a detailed version.
I don’t know his name. I still don't. So let me call this unknown entity, 'X'.
Mr.X. : rathrikalathu ninakkokke enthada evide paripadi?
Narayan: Kazhikkan vannathanu, Sir.
Mr X. : evidennu ??
We pointed towards buhari. He instructed his subordinate to enquire. As Buhari was supposed to be closed by that time they didn’t have to be generous and save us, which they didn’t. I meant they weren’t so generous. We stood there before the police officer like two culprits who were waiting for the area to clear, to put their plan into action. X looked so happy to have captured two preys.
The interrogation started (this is where I had to use my editing tool).
Both: Sir CET Students!
This has been one dialogue that saved us for years. I didn’t think this would serve the purpose here but still gave in a try. They don’t have any respect for CETians, but certainly were bored of us. According to the CET myths it is said that a new Police Station was established in Sreekaryam near our college only to keep CET case files. Anyway he changed the pattern of questioning, as our status changed from criminals to Uzhappanmar. Mr. X then started acting much like our staff advisor, started lecturing on how students like us studying in such a reputed college waste our lives as our parents are not aware how we are dealing with our studies. He asked us to call our parents and tell them the situation we were in.
Even after exhibiting the maximum flexibility of our back bone he didn’t waiver. One after another we were supposed to call our parents. Narayan took his mob dialed his dad’s no.
Narayan: Sir vilichittu kittunilla, avide range illa.(he was successful in controlling his laughter to a certain level)
Slap
Before he could say anything another one followed.
Slap
I was waiting for my turn to come, It didn’t (It’s true, believe me)
Mr X: Land Phonil Vilikkeda
Narayan: Sir land phone illa….
Final Year exam anu, nightout irunnu padikkan….
X: Back logs undo?
(We had to try very hard not to laugh at that. What has he got to do with our 'back logs' ?)
Me and Narayan were unanimous in saying “illa Sir”. Even our old King Harishchandra would have preferred to lie.
X turned towards me, asked few questions and made sure I’m giving the same answers. By that time Buhari hotel people admitted that they had taken a parcel order. we were saved.
On the way back Narayan asked me not to mention the incident to anyone in the hostel, which as a matter of fact I didn’t do, more over added masala while narrating. Narayan couldn’t enter Hostel for days.
Sathyam Parayeda, ninakum kondille orennam?
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