Nights in Pala House

Hari paranju njan englishil ezhuthunnath karanam feel porenne. I am trying to incorporate some demonic Malayalam in between. Spare me brothers…

So this piece of crap is dedicated to my fellow crapper…..

The Night at the Pala House: (As in ‘the Night at the Museum’)

Each night at Pala house was one of its kind. The fun was never ending. Precisely at 7:30 we would get orders to ceasefire and go back to our rooms. And the crowd in the courtyard would dissolve like morning dew (Or our wardens were made to believe so.). The first step of a deliberate plan is to see what Manjesh sir is up to.  In our study room, there are two benches located at the two ends of the room. So we would sit face to face with somewhat 5 feet in between the benches. Any life form transiting through the room would pass right through the middle of the room, in front of us.

My usual position would be near the window (It was one hell of a window, by the way). There is a 5 inch space between the wall and the window. I will get stuffed into this place in a way that the entire study room comes under my field of vision. Balu would have been seated exact opposite to my position. Nidarsan used to come by our side only after 8 or so. Mathew would be present round the clock, unless or otherwise he had some fight with any of us, which was the usual scenario (To see Mathew leaving the room, cursing us was worth a site. I now think that, his innocence was what we always put to test). Njanum...

Those were the days when our hostel owner Joy had deliberate plans to siphon in more money from current bill (10 rupees per unit. What is this??? Cucumber city???). My first two current bills were approximately 50 rupees, I guess. And such a huge bill can even make Vijay Mallaya weep. So I turned off the fan in my room. And the light too. Without light and fan, how can I study sitting inside my room?

There is a fan and a tube light in the study room. Verenthu venam? So I quickly changed my shelter from my room to study room. Under that fan and tube light I spent time 24*7. I was the scum that the study room never got rid of. Instead of using my fan and paying foolishly to that ruthless hostel owner, I made him pay something extra. Study room was my second home to be precise (only thing that did go wrong was, that I made study room like hell for others).

Back to the “story: life” (3:1 hehe).  Manjesh sir would go out on7:45, to our canteen. A very brief time to celebrate. As soon as Manjesh sir’s shadow passed the wall, we all rise from our positions and stretch ourselves a bit. Stretchy stretchy njn Nidarsante room vare ethm. Directly opposite his room was the room of Kesavan. Next to Kesavan’s room was a small space in between the walls (There were other places where there were spaces in between wall.  Only we and the god knew what all we used to hide in those crevices. I mean, necessity is the mother of invention right??). Through that, we could make out our hostel wardens dining inside Royees canteen.  

The stage: study room.

The actors: Balu, Nidarsan, Mohammed, Rahul and myself…

The Play: Pala Charitham 3aam khandam

The audience: Amal, Jassim, Chandu and Sibi

And every moment was history. We played cricket there (Plastic bottle became bats and weekly test question papers became balls). We debated on anything below the sky about which we didn’t have even the slightest idea. Katrina Kaif’s figure and Hrithik Roshan’s vigor and Sehwag’s power, almost everything was a topic for discussion. We chorified and therified each and everyone present in the room. We gossiped about all those hot cargoes back there at Brilliant. We played nasty pranks on every padipist in our floor. We danced and yelled like wolves and fooled all around there. But one rule was prevailing although nobody needed any prior mentioning. All this should be over in 15 minutes.

If Manjesh sir ever found out what the hell was going on the top floor he would have put our heads under the guillotine. But thanks to the eye of third floor (Ahem ahem… none other than the humble narrator), nobody got caught. I would have my eyes fixed on manjesh sir’s whereabouts as I watch him like an eagle circling over its prey (If he ever come to read this blog, I want to certify that my death is not accidental).

But then, even the best times got to end someday. That day was not very far. I once got caught spying on Manjesh sir. It so happened that I was sitting in the corner with my shoulder at the edge of the window. Enik cherinju nokkiyal Manjesh sirnte room kanam. So on a particular night the sound was a bit over the cut off. So he came out and was standing outside his room surveying all three study rooms (It seems like the whole world has gone mute when Manjesh sir was around). I was leaning forward onto my shoulder and was keenly watching him. I thought he couldn’t see me through the corner of the window. But alas, there was he looking right into my eye and giving out a scary nod. Oru 5 minutes inakam Manjesh sir top floor study roomil ethy. The rest you know, na. I was suspended from study room for 1 long week. God, it was awful. But then, for that week my rank was somewhat ok (the current bill was not ok). So I begged him to sit and study in the study room. The 3 feet tall lean lion agreed.

Like Arnie announces in Terminator, “I am back”, I hit the study room. And we made our timings to extend after the sleeping hours. Balu and Rahul and Sibi would be awake long after our terror warden dozes. We will put off the lights in the study room and gather on the floor. The discussions will continue ad infinitum. And even if the sound goes a bit high, nobody cares. I would be standing guard of the place so as to remind other amigos of any threat.

Balu, the man from Ranni. I kinda worshipped that jock. He was masculine, bright and so much full of energy; nearly every other life was lit up by his presence. Everybody was his friend. Our late night talks were all concentrated on his life experiences (Look at us god, we have not even touched 20, yet we had experiences worth narrating, that’s what we call generation gap). There were stories about his place, Ranni, stories about his schooling, his friends and all those beauties whom he was after (He presently studies in AFMC, a batch with only 4 girls. And that rotten rascal has hooked up with one among four…).

And there was Nidarsan, the guy from Kottayam, as lean as a pencil and as happy as a king, he was.  this guy, was a walking talking amusement park. Always cracking jokes and always getting self goals. At nights he too had those tear dropping tragic loves stories to narrate. How his dad would always back him up and used to train him at the Kottayam stadium, for making him an athlete. His words always had a special flavor of being at home.

Coming to Sibi, another night talker, the quiet one I may say. Sibi was the hardest working guy in the top floor. Yet his ranks were never really bright. We say god is fair. But in his case, if you ask me, god was being a son of a bitch. Never giving him what he deserved. At night when he would finally exit the room, he would be having his old cricket matches and school fables to narrate to us. Balu , Rahul and Sibi were in the same school after 10^th. So they know quite a lot about each other. so it was always fun to hear them narrating each other’s thepp stories and poking each other.

Sometimes we would have guests also. Mostly it would be Hari, from ground floor. But his expeditions would rather be risky, during the wakey wakey hours of Manjesh sir. And once he got screwed up too. hope he mite be narrating that story for you some day…

I guess the midnight hour is close at hand. So we would disperse to our rooms, bidding each other a ‘good night’ or a ‘Screw you’. For a second the lights in our rooms would flash and then go out. I mean perfect darkness. I would have my windows opened so as to let in some fresh air (and a lot of mosquitoes too). It helps me save my current bill by not turning my killer fan on.

As I begin to doze, my righteous conscience would ask me.

“Eda pulle, ni innu vallom padicho??”

And I would answer it back. “Mindathiri. Entrance exam naale ravile onnum allalo. Pathukke padichalum mathy”