Chapter 5- Of mistaken identities, aliases and much more...

A case of mistaken identity

There is a reason why teenagers prefer not to have their parents talking to people they know, especially classmates, friends, other acquaintances (just about anyone we know). Parents tend to speak volumes about their progeny, as if the entire world is awaiting breathlessly to know about us, and they often end up reveal a bit too much information, even very less information is a lot.

However, for once I must give credit where its due, my parents did not get into the boring trope of  "my daughter is like that, she loves this food, she was always good in her studies..." at the time of my enrollment into the hostel. However, I became the victim of a big misunderstanding or as they say a case of mistaken identity. The truth of all of this I would only learn later, after serious mocking by seniors, and exchange of heated words with some. Few days after I had joined the hostel, there was this constant reference of AC everytime I passed by. Initially I did not think too much about it, so I ignored them but after a while it seemed like too much of a coincidence. There was a particular instance when I had gone into the mess hall wearing a kaftan. At the time one of the seniors referred to me as the NRI AC who still thinks she is living in Dubai. This was only the tip of the iceberg. The final showdown happened when I forgot to tie my hair before I entered the mess hall. The rule goes that everyone who enters the mess kitchen to collect food must tie their hair before they do so. Funny me, always forgot, until I reached the door of the mess kitchen and would always take a step back to tie my hair and then enter. So technically I had not broken any rules but tell that to the seniors waiting to pounce on me at the first chance they got. So one fateful day, they catch me in the act. Someone calls out my name from the mess hall. 

"Priya, come over here for a sec" Must tell you I didn't approve of the authoratative tone but whats a fresher to do. So I marched over with a half smile on my face, and as I approach the table where the enior is seated, she begins her verbal attack, it started on a calm tone but quickly built up to a crescendo that was ear and soul shattering "You are supposed to tie your hair before you enter the kitchen AND NOT IN THE MESS HALL JUST BEFORE YOU ENTER IT, UNDERSTAND" 

Needless to say I was red with fury and embarrasment at being screamed up in front of others and my friends and the acerbic looks from her gangmates only added salt to my wounds. I was initially speechless and all I could finally gather up to say at the moment in a loud but sarcastic tone was "WELL I AM SORRY". 

Yes, I felt like crying, I had distinctly felt the prejudice against me from day one and I was clueless as to why (story of my life). I went back to my room without having my food while pondering on how I could have given a more befitting reply to the senior.  I would later think of a lot of comebacks when I played out the scene in my mind a million times.

A few days later a batchmate who was witness to the whole incident filled in the gaps for me as to why the seniors despised me. Apparently one of the NRI parents who were with my parents at the time told the matron that their daughter could not live without an AC and if it was possible to fit her room with one. Some of the seniors who overheard this mistook the so called NRI daughter for me thanks to the genetically gifted brazen look I possessed. And so the saga began. The NRI girl, whose name I would not reveal here, soon got a transfer to CUSAT. She escaped all the jibes while I became her proxy unintentionally. Months passed by before the seniors would give me the benefit of doubt (well not all, I mean whats the fun without a few haters)

A victim of propaganda

Life's funny for I would get my roommate Sridevi into similar trouble thanks to my comments. The poor girl from Kanjikuzhi would have never dared to say anything or even commented on anything in that hostel if it weren't for me. It was a known fact that some of the curries made at the hostel were very bland and I used to call them "nirvikaram", its literal meaning being - exhibiting/evoking no feeling whatsoever. It became my staple comment before going to the mess hall so much that Sridevi picked it up from me (yes, propaganda works). She would usually stand in front of me in the food collection queue at the kitchen and parrot my comment " Oh its that nirvikara curry again". One such day a senior had edged past me and stood right behind Sridevi when she made the same comment and laughed. And as Sridevi turned around expecting me, she froze. She was embarassed and frightened at the same time as the senior glared at her audacity to make such appalling even if true comments about the food when fomer had only been in the hostel for a week. Needless to say Sridevi became a target and she would be subject to uncomfortable disussions involving vikaram and nirvikaram as a way of punishment in the coming days. Back at the common room, I would narrate the incident to others and we would have a good laugh. Even the pain in my shin from Sridevi's sharp kicks would be worth it.

A victim of bad advice

Sometimes its a bad idea to listen to your elders. My brother's so called great advice on what to do when seniors tried to talk to you by signalling you to come over either or by calling out your name or  - 1. Pretend to walk away as if you did not hear them (a terrible idea)

2. Always give fake contact details (even more disastrous, backfires almost instantly especially if you have poor GK about places in Kerala)

Case in point 1 - Fake contact details

I had the regular habit of going for an evening walk with my friend Susan (highl unadvisable for freshers, do not practice). One such day, as I was walking towards the stationary to buy a set of (unbelievably expensive) pencils, a hefty senior Mr. ABC meets us on the way back

Mr. ABC: You, which branch?

Me: F1 Architecture

Mr. ABC: Whats your name?

Me: Priya

Mr. ABC: Where you from?

(hmm where shall I say, I did not know much about places in Kerala) Kasargod (I lie, I'm from Kannur)

Mr. ABC: Where in Kasargod?

Me: eh eh eh (oops), near LBS college of engineering (nice try dumbo)

Mr. ABC: I am sure the place has a name

Me: I am not sure, you see I grew up abroad

Mr. ABC: really, where?

Me: Bahrain

(why do i get the feeling this guy already knows something about me. All my fears come true as I see my senior hosteller approach us, latter happens to be Mr. ABC's friend)

Mr. ABC: Hey Jen, she says she's from Kasargod but she doesnt know the exact name of her place. 

Jen: No she's not she's from Kannur, aren't you?

(I am filled with dread as I am caught red-handed, embarrassed to core, I have a bone to pick my brother when I go back home, he was gonna pay) So I get defensive (the holding onto a straw act)

Me: See I do not see the need to give my details to a stranger

Mr. ABC: Dont act smart, you think you can get away with that attitude

Me: Well, as I said, I did not think it was necessary to give you my details

Mr. ABC: So you thought you could lie, all seniors here are not here to harass you

(ok lets take the submissive routine and save a bit of quickly depleting self-respect)

Me: I am sorry, I just did not know what to say.

Mr. ABC: Fine dont repeat it. Next time I see you, you better be still from Kannur.

I give an embarrassed smile and walk away while my freind Susan remind me about the unnecessary stupidity I just displayed. Yeah, tell me about it.

Case in point 2 - Ignore seniors

The next piece of "valuable advice" - Walk away when seniors call you, pretend not to have noticed them

It was our first Christmas vacation holidays after joining college, around a month after joining college,  and we were all heading home. Divya and I still had to get our concession from the railway station but the clerk denied it saying we had not reported before 8 PM. Pissed off to the core we were heading to the railway platform when a senior begins calling out  Divya's name, "Hey you, there, Divya"

I say to Divya with my so called acquired wisdom, "Keep walking, lets pretend to not have heard that"

Like some filmi sequence the senior (actually super senior), whose ego has now been hurt to the core, comes huffing and puffing and lands right before us in the same compartment and corners us, " Who do you think you are? Is this how you behave towards to your seniors, blah blah blah"

and after what seemed like an endless rant, he calms down, and I really wanna say

"Hey chap, take a chill pill" but one look at him and I know this is a guy you dont wanna mess with. We tell him with Oscar winning conviction that we really didnt hear him and we also gave him a sob story about how our concessions were turned down by the stupid clerk and he falls for it. So now he assumes the role of our guardian. Later that night he would even stand up for us in a scuffle with a police constable (more on it in another post)

Moral of the story, actually morals of the story -

1. Not all seniors are terrors, just 90 percent of them, if you cant fight them, tame them and if you cant tame them, just act tamed. Thats food for their ego.
2. If you cannot lie just dont do it and end up looking like a fool.
3. Always carry a "I am a nice NRI card though I dont look like it" (NRI can be substituted with the respective genres of people that are constantly tormented by seniors)
4. Your elder sibling's advice must not be misconstrued as wisdom