First year of college.

My Basic Civil Engineering exam was due that day, at noon. I was on my way to college with my trusted travel partner – KSRTC. (Don’t have many human ‘travel partners’ yet ) I was already late and hence abandoned the usual policy of choosing nearly-empty buses only to cram myself into a choc-a-bloc ”Thiruvananthapuram’ red. Five minutes into the journey and I realized what huge mistake I’d made. There I was, clutching a couple of Civil Engineering texts on both hands, with a huge backpack on my shoulders – crushed from all sides by an unruly mob fighting tooth and nail for personal space. I’d an entire text to read, but for fear of my dear life, I could neither open my texts, nor keep them back in the bag – for, both actions would result in irreparable damage to myself from all the ‘churn’ around!

Meanwhile, the conductor came ticket-mongering. After a superhuman effort, I managed to push away a fat man standing on my right side and fished out my purse. A 100 rupee note – its sole occupant silently grinned back at me. Screwed, the conductor guy is goanna swear at me. Yet, without a tinge of hesitation, I passed on the note to the condcutor, who, without looking up from his ticket-machine, issued me the ticket, pocketed the money and walked away. Thank God, I mused.

Soon, the bus reached a nearby stop – ‘Pongummood’, from where, my buddy Praseeth (batchmate at college) got in. He started his usual speech about how unprepared he was for the exams and how he’s goanna fail. He had no idea about the principle of Leveling, which was the only concept I’d learned well. He entreated me earnestly to explain the concepts to him, for levelling problems were the easiest way to score 10 marks in the essay. Realizing it as a way to revise what I’d learned, I started off, unmindful of the crowded environs. After a while, Praseeth’s sharp intellect had picked up the entire method and he was repeatedly mentioning how easy the whole method was. The bus had reached Pattom Junction and we were just a couple of kilometers away from college. He took a cursory glance at his watch and muttered that we’re really late.

Before I knew it, he’d opened the passenger door and pulled me out of the bus!

Praseeth, not always a punctuality person, was a tad too hyperactive today. He ushered me into an auto, and pushing his lean frame inside, commanded the auto driver to take us to college. He silently assured me that he’d foot the bill and that he wasn’t too enamored about crowded buses. Using the time to discuss other portions, we reached college in a few minutes’ time. Both of us alighted, and I took my purse to pay Praseeth – yeah, I’m very stringent about sharing, so I thought I’d share the auto-cost with Praseeth. I opened my wallet and fished for money.

The purse was empty.

Shocked, I took the purse and re-checked ever recess and niche. There were perhaps a few coins that amounted to Rs. 5/- not a penny more, not a penny less. Dumbfound, I kept searching, meanwhile Praseeth paid the money and was walking over to the classes. After some wild goose chase, I realized my blunder.

Dad had given me Rs. 100/- in the morning. I gave it to the conductor, from whom I did not buy change, thanks to the auto-sojourn and my absent-mindedness. There I was, broke, penniless and smiling inwardly at myself! Yet, I gathered myself and wrote the exam. Ironically, there was a leveling problem (of the same type I’d explained to Praseeth), and both of us got it right. After the exam, collecting all coins I could gather, I caught a  bus back home and didn’t mention about my debacle to a soul.

P.S.

Six months later, the results came. Praseeth scored a neat 80 for the exam while my mark was an okay-ish 68. And I heard him proudly proclaim to his buddies:

“You should’ve studied leveling man! I knew the answer to the problem when I saw the question – that was the only thing I’d studied and I got whopping 20 marks for the essay!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I want Marlboro!”

Raghav’s words were loud and vigorous enough to scare the living wits out of Sushil and I.  Raghav was Sushil’s friend. The two of us were on our way to CCD after a particularly tiresome day. That was when  a slightly-overweight guy in blue Reebok tees and a queer gait, suitably accompanied by a a steady stream of smoke bellowing upward from his mouth approached us from the opposite side of the road – Raghav. Chaddi buddies, Sushil greeted Raghav with a bear hug (only before grabbing the smoldering cigarette from his mouth and discarding it – much to Raghav’s chagrin) and reprimanded him for smoking publicly in his area!! Image problems, yes!! Now, if you didn’t know, Sushil,  Raghav and I are the biggest hypocrites Planet Earth has seen till date. You’ll know why, soon enough!

Now, it would be a gross understatement to call Raghav an ‘addict’ – he’s a class apart! A ‘clean’ guy until a few months back, his addiction was spurred by jobless days at an equally jobless internship at a company that offered free cigarettes even to passing visitors! Since then, there was no looking back. He’s tried all brands, lived even with tiny butts of used cigarettes when severly afflicted by the melt’smoke’down ( fund-shortage due to cigarette bills amounting to thousands!), and even perfected all those astounding tricks of smoke-exhalation you see on TV. Yes, the world’s first professional smoker with a GPA of 9.2 (yeah, studies were always Priority #1! )

Until lately, Raghav too had a squeaky clean image at home, like Sushil. Only to lose it by succumbing to his addiction. Unable to suppress his withdrawal syndrome, he went out to get his daily puff and finished a whole pack in a matter of minutes, inexorably forgetting to disguise the acrid smell! His mom was quick to identify the odor and he had to vow that he wouldn’t take another puff.

The vow was broken the very next day, as he conveniently got himself a ‘Wills’, on his way back home after dropping off his sister at a reputed IIT coaching centre near CCD. That was when we met this dude. He mouthed the sudden urge to have perhaps the world’s most popular brand of cigarettes – his favourite, for the sake of stress release, he said. The mention of  ‘Marlboro’ set the ball rolling.  Sushil was a carbon copy of his chaddi-buddy, sort-of. But he hadn’t smoked in a while, and his image was still intact. He too wanted to get a high, and with firm resolve he seconded Raghav and proclaimed the mission – The Quest for Marlboro!

The term ‘quest’ in this context might seem hyperbolic, but yeah, Trivandrum is a very sleepy town, if you didn’t know! One still had to go the long contorted route to get a piece of ‘decent’, branded stuff. We didn’t know where to start off, but we were sure to find what we wanted, Kowdiar was the place to be in! We thought we’d start off with the melting pot of  ‘hanging-outers’ – The venerable CCD!

We’d barely walked over to CCD, when Sushil found this pack of guys smoking, standing next to a car. Before we could do anything, he ran over to one of  them and asked:

“Dude, you studied in my school right? Isn’t your name Sidharth?”

Sid: “Yup, that’s me. And hey, long time bro! “

Sushil: “Dude, where in TVM would you find a Marlboro? Pretty damn urgent!”

Sid: “Just head over to Grand Bazaar, at Style Plus. You’d find your stuff! All brands under the sun… you name it!”

Sushil: “Thanks a million, dude. You’re a lifesaver!”

I could see Raghav’s face light up in glee. So was Sushil’s. Thus, we walked through Belhaven Gardens (yea, the pee-place! ) and walked over to Devaswam board junction. They knew about the pee-story (which, ironically happened hardly a few days back) and were pulling my legs. I did my best to divert their attentions, non-smoker that I am. Pro-debater that Sushil is, he started quoting from “Thank You for smoking!” and other pro-smoking stuff. I had to shut up!! The dog’s tail would forever be curly! (പട്ടീടെ വാല്… ).

After a few minutes of walk, we reached Grand Bazaar. By now, Sushil had lost all his initial gusto for fear of image. Even Raghav had lost his courage, as a result of which, I had to lead the pack into the store. To my friends’ glee, there, all those packets were stacked right near the counter, by the wall! They were ogling at them the same way the three of us stared at this hot babe at Belhaven Gardens! Marlbro, Davidoff, B&C… all of ‘em were there, stacked in neat plastic-coated packets.

Raghav was far from satisfied, though. The packet that read “Marlbro” had a subtitle which read “lights”. As the name meant, it didn’t have the ‘kick’! He started a semi-fight with the salesgirl over the lack of Marlboro and even pleaded with her. By now, all the customers were staring at us! Sushil, with his ‘image’ problem, coaxed the dude into buying the Davidoff. Then again, our stingy Raghav tried the sales girl to sell him just a couple of loose cigarettes. The lady was visibly angry when she said no, so Raghav and Sushil shared money and bought a Rs 110 – 20 cigarette Davidoff packet! This is how it looked:

Sushil and the davidoff: Yeah, smokers die young. These guys never understand!

Anyways, we ran out of the store after the purchase – only to realize another folly. There was no lighter/matches to light the cigarette with! Raghav went inside again in search for a lighter but alas… The classic ‘water-water-everywhere’ scenario! A belligerent  ’പെട്ടിക്കടക്കാരന്‍’ (shop keeper) came to the rescue with ‘kadak’ matchsticks. Then came the problem of  ‘where to smoke’. The ‘Jaggus Kitchen’ right opposite to Style Plus was the answer. It housed a baskin robbins too! However, the very ‘friendly’  rates forced us to retreat – to a nondescript by-lane! (I was reminded of the ‘pee ‘incident in the recesses of a similar lane!) Then, like cannibals feasting on human bodies, they ripped open the packets and wildly picked up those objet’ d death!

Luck clearly wasn’t favoring them even now. Lighting up the matches was a hard job – the wind was blowing high and fast. Sushil now made up stories of how he lighted cigarettes amidst high winds. Surprised at the magnitude of that blatant lie, perhaps, Lord Vayu pulled the winds back and the cigaretted were lighted. It was fun to see the dudes exhale air!! Raghav and Sushil had very distinct styles of blowing smoke rings in the air! Sushil’s lips contracted to a very funny form as he did that – was damn funny!! Now, both of them started the next part of the bluffing saga. Sushil started by boasting that he’d smoked 40 joints, straight. Raghav wouldn’t agree. He countered by saying that his personal record was 50… LOL!! The bickering continued for a while until I intervened and solved it. After smoking a cigarette each and sharing  a third piece 50-50, the pack was shoved back into Sushil’s laptop bag and we walked back to CCD.

Then came the problem of where to store the packets. Both of them wouldn’t take the packet home, for fear of parental detection! Finally Raghav chose to keep the packets in a consensus, after wild plans including loosely selling cigarettes at 5-apiece!!

After walking both the dudes back to CCD, where they smoked away the remaining 17 pieces in the packet, I walked to the bus stop. I reiterated my forever-philosophy in mind. If the dudes don’t control their habit, they’re sure goanna learn the hard way…

Smoking is injurious to health!

P.S.

The incident is real, but names are changed to protect identities and ‘images’ of certain ..ahem… very respectable people!