Of Acronyms, Pranks and Silliness

In our uneven and bumpy ride through college life, there have been several occasions that have tested our patience, our sanity, our levels of endurance, our sense of humor (or lack of one) and our ability to stay united for a cause big or trivial.

There have also been instances where one among us has stood up to stage a spirited soliloquy of sorts, say perhaps to question the harmless yet annoying ribbing of a professor (this professor for some reason found humour in always ending her sentence with a rhetorical question that suffixed a particular classmate’s roll number, for eg, “This seems an interesting way to design the kitchen, eh roll no 23!”, “You people look bored, eh roll no 23”, until one fine day he decided enough was enough and confronted her on her aforesaid unnecessary practice. She too a master of words, tried to charm her way out of it, however the lone warrior was determined not to give in. She finally receded realizing that to lock horns with a disgruntled arkee wasn’t exactly her cup of tea and she had got the message loud and clear and probably even made a mental note to herself, “No more messing with roll no 23, hmm 25 looks fine though (since he was sleeping through the classes anyway)”.

While as a class too we had stayed united in our demand for a college tour (as mentioned in a previous post), there have been also occasions where we had to initiate a civil war of sorts within our class to speak up for our kindred (read the girls vs guys, well not all the guys but most of them and vice versa).

Premise 1 - IN A SNAFU….

Now in every engineering college, the various branches usually associate themselves with interesting nick names, most popular is of course the Royal Mechs that has been the tag of the Mechanical Students for decades. Perhaps some of the guys in our Arkee batch must have felt left out that they decided to redefine the trend and make history by coining a name for themselves. The future would be thankful, the past envious as for the first time in ages the Arkee boys would no longer go by merely the name Arkees, they would be hailed as Boys of Royal Architecture (at this point imagine Star Wars theme song playing in the background)

So, one fine day, the boys unveil the name before us girls and we applaud them, sure it ain’t unique but we support them anyways. The boys repeat the name again, and we applaud once again (enough with tooting your horns already guys, we think to ourselves). We sense that they are going for something here as they repeat themselves but we are not sure what (yes, we are that dense). So, they take it a step further as they present the mascot a yellow smiley with glasses (that’s strange) and then write the abbreviated version of the name on the board… and behold, it is B.R.A. Yeh, they have intentionally acronymized the hell out of this one and we are aghast in disbelief (the spectacles now make sense, and we feel Pacman-ish at this point enough to devour our insensitive classmates).

Initially speechless, the murmurs build upto a crescendo, we are furious, we are seething fire, someone almost gets hold of a collar there, there is drama, melodrama, butter sheets go flying (they are
supplied for free by the department, the expensive pencils stay put though).

Over the next few days the cold war is still on, there are mediators on both ends trying to make peace, we demand an apology, they want us to chill. The news also spreads far and wide across the campus, we sense senior boys from the other branches snicker as we walk by. After being unable to bear the uncomfortable silence in class and non-cooperation during group assignments, and inability for some to beg for loans from the girls, and for some to hang out with each other without risking treachery, the boys finally shelf the name and apologise.

Jokes apart, the boys owned up to their mistake, letting their egos slide for the better good and thereby learning a valuable lesson in respecting the opposite gender. We see less and lesser of that lately. So, to the old adage – To err is human, to forgive is divine, we the divine female arkees forgive them. The incident taught the girls too something for the long run - to not give anyone, be it a foe or a friend, a free pass to insult us, and to stand up straight even in the face of gargantuan tempests of adversity.

Also, made me wonder why we never brainstormed and got creative enough to come up with a gender-neutral name that would uniquely identify the Arkees, off the top of my head -

The Working Dead (the most boring zombie apocalypse ever)

The Drawculas (the pale creatures who draw teeth and bite into their drafting pencils every time they see another lucky human being getting sleep)

Ex- men – formerly human beings now mutant like beings struggling to fit in with regular people (no superpowers anyway unless you count sleepwalking)

Premise 2 - I just called to say …… (ah a Stevie Wonder classic, you’d think)

Over the five years of a college life, equations keep changing every day. Often the one you thought to be your BFF at the beginning of college grows distant and an arch nemesis of sorts becomes your friend for life (discounting glassmates, that’s a unique relationship for a lifetime). Then there is the mutual back scratching equation, the 4/5 year contractual romance equation, the philanthropic romance equation (love up for grabs for as many at the same time), the ego boost/trophy romance, to name a few.

And while my intention is not delve into the complexities of college romance, it does have some bearing upon the incident. We were studying during the Niram era, a movie with absurd levels of diabetes inducing candy floss, an unfortunate song “Shukriya” (which means Thank you, perhaps for allowing to murder music as we know it) and a ridiculous plot which went on to say guys and girls could never be best friends. So, thanks to the movie, it seemed convenient to some to make an excuse to forge relations with someone he/she befriended with a one-point agenda in the first place. There were some who initiated a friendship by gifting the audio cassette of the movie’s songs, one couldn’t be more upfront with his/her intentions than that.

But for some it served as a cautionary tale, he/she was unsure of establishing acquaintances or friendships, lest the latter misinterpreted his/her friendliness. Some of course couldn’t be bothered, they took it on their chin, wore their heart on their sleeves, didn’t give two cents for what anyone thought or they just were non-existent as far as others were concerned in the college scene.

Well, it was the first year, and while some of us were still rubbing our eyes and trying to wake up from what we believed was a nightmare of a college life, there were few who had become good friends, they enjoyed good camaraderie, together they found humour in the poorly drawn sketch of a classmate, joy in their three-dimensional paper models  that had been scored a 9 and so on. Now, one such pair had gone from strength to strength in their friendship and this is when one of them, to be precise, the girl in the equation, decided to do something interesting. Let’s call her Cheryl. 

One fine day Cheryl goes to her very good friend in class, her confidante, let’s call him Pushpak, and says, “You know Push…, I was thinking a lot about you the other day.” Pushpak has a confused look already (yes that’s how paranoid we are). She further adds (to his anxiety), “You know, ever since the first time we started talking I got this feeling that you are different. The more time I spent with you I began to feel that you are so dedicated, so kind-hearted, so determined and so awe inspiring. And I thought about all of it again last night. And now, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, and I hope after hearing this… if you don’t approve.. we still continue to be friends…” Pushpak is now at his wit’s end, “What is it, tell me.”

Cheryl stops for a second as she thinks hard and then says, “Actually I feel you have a pretty good idea of what I am about to say. It’s the three words of course. Just think about it today, and tomorrow you can let me know what you feel about the whole thing.”

Cheryl throws him a sly smile and walks away. Later Pushpak and his bros have an intense discussion about the 3 words at the hostel. Pushpak is all like, “Oh Man! I don’t know what to say. I like her but not like that way. Damn this is why I should never befriend girls so much, they always take it the wrong way.”

He turns to his brethren for guidance and instead notice that they had stopped paying attention the moment another one of their folk had walked in with an interesting bit of colourful literature interspersed with images to keep them hooked. Pushpak is briefly annoyed but he could worry about tomorrow when it comes, for now the centerfold seems to have drawn his attention.

So next day he gathers his courage and his speech that he had rehearsed all morning was ready to be signed, sealed and delivered. As Cheryl approaches, he feels his knees give away a bit and he can feel sweat running down his forehead. She on the other hand is as cool as a cucumber. She approaches and casually asks, “So Pushpak, did you think about what I said?”

Pushpak swallows and replies nervously, “Cheryl, you are my good friend that’s all. I cannot think of you in any other way. I am sorry, I don’t feel the same way.”

Cheryl bursts into laughter as she says, “Wait, wait, are you talking about the three words? Did you guess what they were?”

Pushpak is dubious as he utters his reply in an embarrassed tone, “You meant to say “I love You” right”

This time Cheryl is laughing uncontrollably, not because she expected him to answer differently but he had fallen for her prank exactly as she had planned.

“I am sorry Pushpak, this was a joke. I just wanted to see if you had fall for it and that you did gloriously. If you must know the three words I felt after running all those wonderful thoughts about you was I was wrong”

Pushpak is trembling in anger at her jibe but she tries to explain that the whole thing was a prank and he was indeed her good friend.

Pushpak wont hear of it, he goes back to the brethren, and this time they listen, they cast aside their magazine and do not mince their words as they recount the insult their friend has gone through repeatedly.

As expected it escalates into a girls vs guys ego battle. A demand for apology is written in Sans Serif font (yes, even in adversity we stay faithful to our lettering lessons) on the black board (the board affliction continues). Arguments ensue, some are in just for the fun of it, instigating a gender debate after which they would lean back on their seats like the Roman Emperors and watch gleefully the gladiators fight a needless bloody battle in the pits. And then there is the Adoor Gopalakrishnan silence, air is heavy with anger, frustration and distrust, so much that the even the two professors in charge are taken aback. Its not like us to just sit there stoically not uttering a word, I mean, usually there is one hopping about from one desk to another cracking a PJ even as the professor reprimands him for his nomadic nature, there is another with the incessant questions about underwater structures and their stability though this is just first year and we are yet to draw the plan of a room let alone a marine structure, another who has detailed the section of the door so much that even the professors are confused about the origin or need of certain intricacies, another who just wouldn’t stop helping the girl sitting behind even though she hasn’t sought any, another few who are generally absent from class but astonishingly present today though they are yet to even stick a butter paper on their drafting table, another who is generally asleep in most classes but sits wide eyed and fresh for a change… the inconsistencies are so many.

This is when the lady professor notices the demand for an apology written on the board. She signals to the male professor who as usual ignores her, until she speaks up in her usual overbearing tone, “What is this? Who wrote this on the board?” At this point the male professor casually turns around and glances at the message and averts his gaze indifferently. Meanwhile, the lady professor continues with her monologue, “First of all, the lettering is atrocious, if you were going for Sans Serif here, let me say sans doubt, you need to practice this all over again. Now for the message, this is a college not a school where you can continue with your immature nonsense. I will be reporting this to the HOD.” We do not move a muscle and this maddens her only more and she is throwing threats left, right and center. 

And then God spoke, ok it wasn’t God, it was the male professor but the words will remain holy to our ears, “Give them a break, they are going to be sophomores, its no big deal, we have seen ssoooo much worse.”

We felt triumphant as he had just dissed the female professor (whom none of us were a fan of) big time. In that jubilant moment, the hour ended and as the professors walked out, none of us could hold down our laughter anymore. And just like that, the joke did not matter anymore. Yeh, because as he said, we were not some silly freshers anymore, we were going to be sophomores soon, life was going to get better, we wouldn’t struggle as much, we were gonna have swag and street cred- (going for a western movie scenario) the professors would tilt their hats as we passed, juniors would polish our seats and sharpen our pencils, the mess chechis would wipe our plates and pour sambhar neat (the good one not the watered-down version), internals would come to us with the swift throw of a lasso……..only if, all these thoughts remained but only as great figments of our imagination and as one tsunami of realization hit us after another one, we too realized the three golden words, actually the three words realized was subjective

WE WERE DOOMED (and how)

WE LOVE INTERNALS (early traits of sadism)

WHERE AM I (self-induced amnesia to forget those internals)

WE WANT STRIKE (anything to escape those grueling theory hours)

I MISS HOME (Save me now)

KILL ME NOW (yes, kill me now)

ALL IS WELL (not the Rancho version but more like yeh we survived in spite of all of it)