The Rituals

The Rituals:

You cannot sleep during the study hours.

That was an unspoken rule in Pala House. At night it was until 10. But if it’s a holiday, naturally a hard working boy (like me…) may prefer to have a nice small nap, amidst the back breaking labor (to the eyes, of course). And the timings maybe just after having breakfast or lunch. Those are the times when Manjesh sir is either busy eating or gone elsewhere.

But our peaceful retreat is often disrupted by the evil sleep buster, Biji sir. He would come round anytime, whenever he feels a bit exhausted. After all, 80 students have sacrificed themselves for the sake of his entertainment na…

“Ravile irunnuranguano niyokke. Enitte enitte. Poyi purathu ninnu padikke.”

When our half opened eyes gaze at him, he would try hard to suppress a laugh.

Now am standing in front of the main entrance of Pala house. The outstanding personality of the hour. I am not alone. Usually I may be carrying my heavy NCERT textbook or any question bank. And I may be witnessing many a laughs from other inmates. From ground floor, from first floor and from my own top floor. I still remember Ranjan with his 32-toothed grin pointing his nasty finger at me. I would mutter to myself.

Don’t worry assholes. Laugh when you can. Next turn would be yours.

But being there is a kind of fun actually. Once Biji sir is back in his den, I can just go around anywhere in the ground floor. I mostly tour to Gohul’s and Praveen’s room. Then to Nikhil’s room. There mostly he must be scratching his head with a piece of paper in hand (supposedly his lecture notes). Ambu, Amod and Sen must be roaming in the courtyard. Of course they are the ones you should be afraid of. Like any other savage primate, when taunted, they will throw stones at you. Even at Balu in the top floor study room, they threw their stones at. Amod had a fairly good aim. So whenever there is a showdown in the making I may nicely slip off the scene and let them be on their own. I may quietly go into Hari’s room. He must have got some of his mixture or chips or biscuit left.

Munching in the snacks in my hand I make my way to my former position, where I was destined (I mean by Biji sir) to be and study. Of course everything other than study occurs.

There is also an interesting routine we practice in Pala house. Its much like taking a break. We may take some clothes (Oru perinenthelm…), soak I in water and take them to the terrace.

Fact File: The Terrace:

Pala house had a terrace so splendid that it almost always looked like it is kissing the skies. A long deep wet kiss. There was a constant breeze which may mesmerize anybody who enjoys it for a minute. Despite having some unnamed underpants hung from one of the line near one end, it was great scenery looking from there. The steeples of the new church of St. Jude, Kizhathadiyoor, was visible among the trees as a white cone fallen from the skies.

It was the favorite spot for late night gatherings. After everybody’s asleep we used to stand over the sides of the terrace and pee down on to the sides of the building (usually in the morning somebody would report an episode of a light drizzle..:D)

Its beauty increased at night, when the stars shimmered overhead. I still remember lying there at night with Hari narrating his life’s story. You feel like the stars are hearing you too. And that they are twinkling in response to what you are saying. Soon I will narrate that wonderful night. That was the only night I ever saw a halo, a full circular halo, around the moon (Boy that was worth a watch).

We also got enough peace of mind sitting there and studying. So in every way the terrace was a small time paradise.

Some nights were a bit busier than others. There won’t be enough people around the TV during the dinner. Guys would be talking less and rush back to the hostel after quickly finishing the meal. Those were the days which usually fell around the end of every week. Those were the days when you can find more people in front of Manjesh sir’s room than in front of the coin Pay phone (Usually the most popular place inside Pala house, for every one among us felt it necessary to inform our parents that “mum, dad. I am still alive”)

Those were the days when you have to ask him permission to go home. And that in this case my friend, is harder than getting a parole.

I myself don’t go well with my family that they celebrate every day of the year I was away. But that wasn’t the case with others. Everybody wanted to go some day or the other. Some people made it once in a week. For going home, you got to sing in a register. And overlooking this register would be the eagle eyes of Manjesh sir. When in the queue everybody thinks of the most heart wrenching reason to go home. But once in front of him, it’s not the same. Many of those poor souls walk out of there with sunken eyes and cursing hearts (I guess it’s because of their curse that Manjesh sir got married the very next year).

But those who do make it, comes out victoriously waving the victory fingers, as if they just conquered mount ‘Manjeverest’, the hardest mountain made out of flesh and blood.

When they are away, it’s like being given a shot of some soporiferous medicine. You sleep through the whole weekend. During my Reference days, I go to the college and sleep it out there. Why testing the tolerance level of other inmates, right?

Always incomplete, it was, without having everybody around. When Balu and Rahul goes home, the whole top floor goes into hibernation. Without any one among us, the life in Pala house was a misery. We were what you call, one single organism. And these days when there isn’t any restriction to what to do and what not to do, life seems drab. That one year despite all those pressure and tension, was worth living.