Mischief 3: The Reign on King

So back to those days of child king now.  When the king used to romp the world barefoot. When jumping from the date tree, after stealing the pot of date juice, and getting chased with a thorn in his left big toe was casual.

There was a time when while coming back from the school, he used to pass a path, with three ponds on sides. So at one point in the path there used to be a pond on either side. That was the place he used to love turn the tails of the stray cow, so that it runs and throws all in its path to the ponds on either side. Though at times have fallen to its side effect. When the cow decides to charge back, and the instigator becomes the victim; and take refuge in the mud and bushes on the pond bank. And come back with a muddy shoe and explain why and what happened to Ammi.

Enid Blyton – had an early effect, and he had his own den; deep in the overgrowth in one of the big gardens. A cleared patch, with bricks placed strategically to cover it from the rest of the world. With a trench dug up, to drain the rain water, and a shade of lotus leaves and kochu (what is it called in English?) leaves giving a shade.  We cultivated anthills, to stop intruders coming in.

We knew the taste of each mango tree, and the Jamrul, and lichee. The Mango trees were marked and each used to have a number inscribed. The numbers depicted the number of mangoes traced in them. The choicest ones used have strings tied so them when they were raw, and people suspect less of theft. And used to help us pluck them when they are ripe easily, without raising suspicions or even climbing the trees. All we need to do is pull the string and it would fall.

Playing king was the most exciting game there, with regular army, bamboo arrows with tips hardened by heating them; wooden swords with nails put on the tip to make them sharp; armors made of banana trunk, shields made of broken wooden furniture and building fixtures. With regular practice sessions, we had a formidable army of seven (including two females) who were feared by rest of the peer teams. I was obviously the undisputed king.

Oh and then there was that bike trip, in those small bicycles. Mine was red and Nilendu had the blue one. His one was more robust while mine had a puncture-proof tires. We used to regularly race behind trucks on the Bombay road (NH2). Once the truck (or should I say Lorry – as we used to call them) driver noticed two small cycles frantically pedaling to keep pace with its mechanical six wheels. So he braked hard – and disaster. We were not in a position to brake – so we steered. Nilendu had the canal in his side – and went there. And I had shops lined up on my shop, so I crashed in one. While people from the keen deep mud picked Nilendu, I was inside the Sweetshop, nearly on the lap of halwai, with sweats thrown everywhere and broken pieces of showcase glass. People knew both Nilendu and me. Me as the brat and Nilendu as the son of the vet (ghorar dactar). So we were spared after a massive scolding. And then dad took me to hospital in the evening, with broken pieces of glass lodged inside my left knee and heel. It took 3 weeks and 6 dressing to get rid of them and the resulting infection. That was the first visit to the Hospital dressing room.

Mischief 2: College Panics

So Mischief Mongers Inc. has proved its worth. The legends
of Kings mischief alone can make an epic, so this section will have only
snapshots of Kings Horus’s deeds over the periods. The last one was from the
ancient era of  “The Child Who was King”. Cut to – much modern era, in college.
Some snapshots, why the name IC was so feared by the professors and loved so
much by his mates and juniors.

 

The lecture rooms of BES College, used to have seats with
low bench of one row fixed with the high benches of the row behind, with the
high benches having a natural slide angel. Madam Bapat’s math class on the
sultry Wednesday afternoon was cancelled, as either the all the students have
to sit with their back to the professor, or the professor had to stand at the
back of the lecture room. All the benches of the room were turned backwards by
IC and Co.

 

Dr. Roy ( the only professor who used to wear a tie –
always!), had the severest shock of his life when he entered the classroom to
see the occupants of entire first two rows sporting ties; ties of all possible
shape size and color. From the best possible to those with elastic worn in
school (the inspiration of “yours truly” made some bring them from home, and
the person with nearest home contributed for those who forgot). From one which
hung till the knee, while my mate Tahqiq chose to wear one with only three inch
length, with a double know making the tie jut out at and 45 degree angle from
his body. Even couple of Chemistry honors guys moved in too with their ties to
be a part of the historic event. Dr. Roy looked from end to end, turned towards
the board, paused, turned back for another hard look, speechless – moved
towards the door, only to pause turn back announced to fill our own attendance
for the day on the register and with a last glimpse left the room; the class
was adjourned.

 

A sample of questions that used to bother them – Dr.
Banerjee, while teaching thermodynamics explaining Random motions, told us to
imagine that all of us in the room with a circle drawn in the middle and cobra
set lose among us. We all will run helter skelter and he will calculate how
many of us pass through the circle to calculate our random motion. My question
was what will happen if the cobra goes and decides to sit in the middle of the
circle?

 

Both Physics and Electronics laboratories used to be our
favorite joints. Never missing a class, but doing things our way. So if we
decided that we will use the moving coil galvanometer, and the team of Anindita
and Jayita trying to be one step smarter, they will find the entire setup
dismantled in a way that no one can reassemble, which was sadly discovered by
Proff. DPC. Once all resigned, we would go, reassemble it and start our
experiment in 5 minutes flat. Oh btw the beakers and heating pad used to help
us boil our eggs and the traveling microscopes when fixed in right order was
great to watch the ladies playing Tennis in the South Calcutta Tennis Club.

 

And then last but not the least those mass bunking for
movies – the criteria the size of the group can not be less than 30, all
boarding the same bus, which will be stopped by us till everyone boards. All
will stand on the ticket cue and but one ticket a piece to make the ushers
inside the hall sweat to make us seat together. After movie there used to be
walk back to college will all brains running wild for pranks during the walk
back.

 

Monstrous mischief, raining terror, wild maddening times…
reign of Horus!

 

The Selfish Scrawny Garden Owner

This one is from the historical era, from the early days of “The Child who was the King”. He had this huge garden besides the very playground that used to be the abode of him and his mates. The garden had all the ingredients of desire, mangoes, guavas, jackfruit, blueberries, Banana, Dates and Coconuts, and protected by an 8 ft high wall. Their ball used to go into the garden every now and then, so they had carved foot holds on the wall to scale it, go in and fetch the ball back. Obviously when you go in, you cannot just come out with the ball; so a few of the fruits always used to come out along with the ball to celebrate the breaks. Most often than not, the breaks were required to be held elsewhere; as the loud screams, followed by a scrawny figure running after with a thick long stick was not a very healthy sign.

Up to this, it was OK. We also never bothered. But it used to be a bit too much, when the scrawny garden owner used to reach our house. And obviously it has to be my house to start with. Ammi, usually taking a breather just after coming back from school, and get poured with all the complaint. That’s one thing she never liked; her instruction, do whatever you wanna do, just make sure it doesn’t reach back home. So those out pours usually used to get transferred back to me. So the scrawny fella has to be taught a lesson. The idea came after I visited one of my uncle’s places. So the plot thickened.

The next afternoon, two stood guard in the garden while the chief entered the “lone loo in the garden”. Its one of those stand alone toilets, you find in the villages or very old houses. After a few minutes the action was over. The reaction started. The entire house of the fella went power-less. The single main fuse of the house kept on blowing. There is somewhere a short circuit. The electrician was called; all the rooms were thoroughly checked, without any success. The night descended and the entire house went into darkness. To rub salt to the injury, the entire neighborhood was gleaming with power.

The ordeal continued till late next afternoon, and after much sweltering, someone decided to use the “lone loo in the garden”. The switch was on. Suspicious member calls the electrician; the bulb inside was removed, revealing an old ten paise lodged between the bulb and the holder connectors – the reason behind the all those burnt fuses since the day before! Everyone knew who was behind this carnage, but no proof. We only had to be cautious till the next time.

Mischief Mongers Inc. – The Foreword

Down after an excellent weekend. Old friend fever came visiting! He is one friend who never left me. Got so used to him that his minor visits has stopped bothering me. Its only when he decided to really party with me at 103 F + that I have to stay with him.

Anyways, this time round even my home net connection failed me; so was feeling soooo left out that I decided to come to office. Its mayhem over here. One day I am not here, boss was about to leave on his Europe trip, so gave him all the stuff I prepared, and checked on all the bachchhas; they were having party (literally behind me!). Once everything were brought to order it was already midweek.

Then, it started. A bad taste in mouth (because of the fever stuff); blocked nose (cant even enjoy a good fag!), and a sudden lull at work. So the urge to bring the good taste came back. Tried having a load full of sweets from the shop beside; yet it was not back. Suddenly looking at those children playing in the park, brought back some memories. Memories of a prankster, the undisputed head of Mischief Mongers Inc. And with those memories, I don’t know when I started smiling all by myself. I am sure this is one person, my blog friends have not met. In fact all my posts and comments have somehow given me an image of a very serious, may be romantic, broken heart poor-thing? Have been awarded the title of “Borus” too (oh – I gracefully accept that!). But – there was, and still is hidden somewhere in there, a person who was master of mischief. So I decided to start this section. Though there are so many that I can start a whole new blog with them, but decided to grace this space with them instead.

So, where do I start it from? May be from the very beginning? The oldest memories? Now this can be a non-chronological thing. Will put them as and when they come to mind, this is my space after all. And all those deeds are worth recording someplace.