Announcement 1

This is just a very new idea (not sure if its bad or gud). Lately I have come across some bloggers from VNIT. Some talk about flying pigs (dunno how one cud be interested in that) and some present interpretations of life. There are many more who just don't write anything other than "lol" on their profile. The idea is that we could review some blogs or maybe discuss some features. This way we could exchange ideas or maybe mock other people.

It may seem rather derisive but I would certainly like the reviews to be as subtle as they can be. Let us not slander people just because we do not like to see their faces. This can also help other bloggers to introspect. Although the idea seems to be altruistic and too good to be true, we could experiment with this.

When you are reviewing a blog please be sure that you write down the link and the name of the author. Even if his blogger name is say, "maverick" or "phantom" or "hungry whore", please do mention these details when you write the review

By
R. Lakshminarayan

THE FAREWELL

Its a great place, Kalaupapa. The sun shines brightly, the green of the surroundings seem to envelop everything and the cool breeze just makes it the perfect place for hiking. As one climbs up, the breeze seems to pick up, thus relieving the hiker of his fatigue somewhat and building the anticipation for the journey that lies ahead. I stood there on the narrow trail as the breeze stroked gently against my face. Nikhil stood some steps in front of me, gulping down water and ofcourse, Saurabh gave me a menacing look as he passed me by, out of his breath. Lazy Fatso.

It had been a lazy morning, as usual. They thought of going to the class several times but decided against it. Nikhil came running as Roshan and Saurabh sat on a bench eating chips and watching other students play football.

Nikhil(still panting and smelling of cigarettes): Guess what.

They waited for Nikhil to say something but he just seemed to pant even more.

Roshan: Speak up fucker. What ??

Nikhil(grabbing the chips pack from Saurabh's hand): There's a new English teacher. Some guy called Geremy Jones.

Saurabh: They got one straight from England.

Nikhil: No, you dumbass. The guy is some Christian, lives near Sadar Bazar.

Roshan: Cool. When do we get to meet this Jones guy.

Nikhil: Right now. His is the next lecture.

Roshan: Damnit. That’s too soon.

The bell rang indicating that lunch time was over. The three of them lay on benches as other students rushed back to their classrooms, no matter what they were doing. In all that chaos, a boy accidentally pushed Roshan. Roshan was infamous for, well, for what was to follow.

Roshan:Can’t you see, you idiot.

Boy: Sorry. I…. I just tumbled.

Roshan(with a mock smile): No, No no no. You will tumble now.

Roshan stood up, took the boy by the collar and punched him in the belly. Students were all too familiar with this, so the boy just ran back to the class, grimacing in pain.

Nikhil: Nice shot, Rocky.

If Nikhil did cigarettes, Roshan did people.

Some locals passed us by. Their faces lit up as they saw us. Well, we were foreigners there and those people didn't meet many. This was the beauty of exploring an unchartered territory. You get to meet people when they least expect it and the reaction that follows is one of the most honest you will ever get to see. Speaking of honest, the expression on Saurabh's face was honest too. It seemed like he would fall over, tumble down and roll back to the bottom any moment now. I asked him if he was OK. "Roshan you bitch.", he said with his hands on his knees, " I am fine." Nikhil lit a cigeratte. "You've got to smoke everywhere, isn't it", I asked him. He looked at me casually as smoke escaped his mouth. "Yeah", he uttered finally. It was great hiking around with friends you had met after 2-3 years. Still a long way lay ahead of us but for once the journey was as good as the destination even though the destination was no ordinary one.

They reached the class 10 minutes late. Mr Jones was already in the class. Nikhil casually asked him if they could come in and they proceeded immediately.

Jones: And who are you three? Did I permit you to come in?

They stopped mid way and looked at the teacher in bewilderment. He was a tall man with a broad moustache. In a shirt and trousers, to them, he looked like a character from the 70's show.

Roshan: I am Roshan. He is Nikhil and he is Saurabh.

Jones: And you two are dumb.

Saurabh(stuttering): No, no sir.

Jones: Then why does he have to speak for you two.

Saurabh: Sir…Sir…

Jones: Go get seated. Don't be late again. We are reading Act 2 of The Tempest. Open to page 83

The lecture went on. Saurabh was already drowsing and Roshan seemed to be in some parallel universe where there was no Shakespeare, never had been. Some time into the class, Nikhil raises his hand.

Jones: Yes Mr. Nikhil.

Nikhill: Sir, according to the text Miranda was Prospero's daughter.

The class laughed. It was obvious, why did he have to ask this.

Jones: Yes, she is.

Nikhil: Sir, reading the dialogues here, I feel Shakespeare hinted on something we are missing. Prospero certainly seems to have some incestual feelings for his daughter.

The class laughed out loud. They knew what was coming. This was not the first time Nikhil had done something like this. The teacher would go mad now and throw him out of the class.

Jones: You are quite correct, Nikhil.

The class fell dead silent.

Jones: Many critics feel the same. Obviously, the case is well open for debate but that is something many experts have also hinted at. Good observation.

The front-benchers chewed on their pencils. For once, they were not in the limelight.

This was all the encouragement Nikhil needed. It became a routine thing, as routine as Saurabh’s sleeping or Roshan’s indifference. If the English classes were spent in this manner, Sunday afternoons were spent at Saurabh’s house as his parents were away all day.

Nikhil: I like Sunday. It’s the only day when you actually experience an afternoon.

Saurabh: We have our term exams in a week and all you can think about are Sunday afternoons.

Roshan(smiling): Let it be Saurabh. He’s got a Shakespearean dick and it works well for him.

Nikihl(lighting a cigarette): Its called literature. Its my ticket to wonderland, away from all this drudgery of our useless lives. People say drugs do the same but I think literature must surely be better.

Roshan: Whatever you say bro. Good that you have a passion and a teacher who acknowledges your talent. I am still finding something I like.

Saurabh: Oh no. You do like things. You do have a passion. Beating others up.

Nikhil and Saurabh laughed out loud. Roshan was indignant.

Roshan: Shut up fatso.

Saurabh: Term exams in a week and school ends in five months. What are we going to do then? I have no ideas.

Roshan: Who needs ideas? We’ll go for engineering, ofcourse. Everyone does that.

The trail seemed to get narrower as we advanced but the surroundings cleared up. The destination was still some way but the view from that place was so exhilarating that nothing else mattered. The whole village of Kalaupapa could be seen and it seemed as if we had crossed the boundaries of the mortal world and now were in wonderland. It was more or less a horizontal way from here now. We kept walking. Saurabh had bruised his right leg and it started bleeding. I just savored in the air while Nikhil sat dressing his wound.

The term exams were over and teachers had started displaying marks. Roshan had picked up a fight with some boys in his locality and had to bunk school as he would have been beaten up the moment he left his house. He was having lunch when Nikhil came running.

Roshan: What’s up bro. (winking) How was Mr. Jones today?

Nikhil was perspiring heavily.

Nikhil: He failed me.

Roshan: What?

Nikhil: He falied me in the English exam.

Roshan: Are you kidding me? I…I mean…come with me.

He took Nikhil to his room. Nikhil was almost in tears now. He gave him some water to drink.

Roshan: He failed you?? How can he fail you? This is bullshit.

Nikhil(with bloodshot eyes): I don’t know. I don’t know.

Nikhil started panting whenever he was too excited or too frightened. Roshan thought this was due to his smoking habit.

Roshan: I’ll go talk to him. This is not right. How can he do that?

Nikhil: But…you shouldn’t go out of the house. You know..

Roshan(cutting him): I know. I don’t care.

Its treacherous when you are trying to hike with an injured fat man along side you. We wanted to reach there before sunset but Saurabh had slowed down considerably. He had to sit down at regular intervals but never once did he suggest abandoning the trip. We could see the top at some distance now and hear the roars. There was no way we were going to give up. So we did the unthinkable. I and Nikhil decided to carry Saurabh as long as we could.

Roshan went straight to Mr Jones house. He welcomed Roshan but Roshan was already in a fit of anger.

Roshan: Why did you fail Nikhil?

Jones: Where is he?

Roshan: That does not matter.

Jones: I didn’t fail him. He failed himself.

Roshan(swallowed hard): You expect to explain this using some philosophy. He was the best in the class, you know that. Still you failed him.

Jones: The boy has potential, Roshan. No on denies that. But he has to be able to reproduce all that talent on paper. He has got insight, the ability to see things the way others don’t. But he has to be able to use that gift.

Roshan: And how does failing him help matters.

Jones: You see. I gave passing marks to many others who are not half as good as him. And I don’t mean to be rude, but that includes you too. But literature is his domain and if he is not performing according to his potential, he is failing himself. May I ask you a question?

Roshan: Yes

Jones: What are you interests?

Roshan: Like?

Jones: Like what do enjoy doing? What are you particularly good at?

Roshan: I don’t know.

Jones: Why not?

Roshan: I don’t know. This isn’t about me. This is about Nikhil.

Jones: Exactly. And that is why he should have been here instead of you. The boy has problems expressing himself. He may be fine with you guys but then you are his friends. The moment he is taken out of his comfort zone, he flounders. He has to be taught to deal with this problem. And if he needs a push, you need direction. You and your friend Saurabh.

Roshan: What does that mean?

Jones: What are your plans for the future, Roshan?

For the first time, Roshan thought that may be coming here wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Roshan: I don’t know. We’ll go for engineering.

Jones: Why exactly?

Roshan: Because that is what you do when you are a maths student.

Roshan heart was pounding in his chest now.

Jones: Let me clear the air for you. The world is not as simple as it seems to you. Engineering is not the panacea to your problems.

Roshan: What do you think we should do then?

Jones: Search yourself. Do you really want to be an engineer? I have seen countless young people throw themselves in to something which neither did they fully understand, nor did they want. And let it be clear that you, Nikhil and Saurabh are different individuals, no matter how good friends you are. Your lives are not going to be everything you think it is going to be. I have talked to other teachers too. Almost all have the same opinion about you as me. Don’t you want to be doing something which you want. Or do you just want to follow the herd. Because if you do that, Nikhil and Saurabh will follow. So yes, in that respect this is not only about you. Its about them also.

For the first time in his life, Roshan was forced to find a flaw with his reasoning. All Roshan could do was nod slightly.

Jones: Chart a life for yourself. Because you know why?

Mr Jones took out a golden bracelet from a drawer.

Jones: You see this. This was given to me by my father. He loved the sea, being a navy officer, said there is nothing in the world like the vast ocean. After he died, all I wanted to do is stand on a sea cliff, high, you know, and hurl it into its depths, because that is where my father’s soul resides. Watch it travel to the sea from there, stand there at the edge of the cliff and feel free. But I never had the money nor the time, because I fell into the same trap in which you are about to fall now. You and Nikhil and Saurabh. Do something particular and not something which everyone else does. The rest will follow. Find your passion before its too late. As for Nikhil, he has a gift which he should be helped to use. I’ll help him do that.

Roshan already had goosebumps on his arms. He just stood, greeted him meekly and left.

It got cooler as we approached our destination. Still we were out of breath from carrying Saurabh. It seemed as if we were climbing Mount Everest. We had to do it. Drained of all our strength, we dropped Saurabh and sat down panting. Fatso dropped with a thump. Nikhil took out a cigarette and I took out my camera. No matter why we were here, this was a nice place for a journalist.

The whole episode was narrated to Nikhil and Saurabh. Over and over and over. Everything Mr Jones had said about them, the bracelet, the sea cliff, about himself. Every time they had a debate over it.

Saurabh: You know what. That’s bullshit. Those who can, do, those who can’t, teach.

Roshan: When was the last time a teacher asked you to find your passion? By the way, do you know what your passion is?

Saurabh: You….you know….Roshan, you know what. He is good. He is good at this stuff. He convinced you that what he did to Nikhil was right. I mean c’mon!! How can he ever defend a thing like that?

Roshan: What is your passion, Saurabh?

Saurabh(shouting): I don’t have a passion. All right. Is that what you want to hear? You were supposed to fight for Nikhil man. Not take sides with the teacher.

Roshan: You know what. May be what he did to Nikhil was excessive. May be failing him was too much. But this is the first time someone has wanted to know what we are made of. Isn’t that something? At least he can see something beyond our marks. At least he acknowledges Nikhil’s talent. The reason I wanted to be an engineer was so that I wouldn’t have to rot here handling my father’s business. But is that reason enough to pursue something?

Saurabh: What are you saying, then?

Roshan(almost shouting): The reason you sleep in school is that you don’t care about English or Hindi or whatever. Why can’t we find something where we wouldn’t want to be asleep. If Nikhil is good at English, why should he become a fucking engineer.

Nikhil had been quiet all this while.

Nikhil: I’ll work on my writing skills……(looking at Roshan)I’ll do that.

The image of the golden bracelet kept coming back to Roshan’s mind. He tried to shrug it away, but it just won’t go. Somehow it had become synonymous with dreams, with aspirations for him. Why was Mr Jones unable to do the one thing which would give him peace. If it was all about choices, it was time they made the right ones.

The hard part was over. The crashing sound can be heard clearly now as we approached the end. It was a special triumph for Saurabh who wasn’t too sure when we had started out. We had put in a fortune for this trip and fought our families but here we were, all three of us. We reached our destination and as the scene before us unfolded, only one word escaped our mouth. ”Wow!!”

Farewell parties are always full of tears. This was the same. But inspite of that, what the three boys felt was a renewed sense of vigor. Nikhil had considerably improved in the pre-board exams and Roshan had long given up the idea of engineering. They met up with Mr Jones.

Jones: So, going to miss school?

All three said yes.

Jones(looking at Roshan, smiling): So what are the plans once board exams get over.

Roshan: I think I am going to pursue Journalism. I thought long and hard about it. I am thinking of applying to the Delhi University. At least, all this blabbering of mine would be put to some use.

Jones: Hmm…Good. And you Saurabh.

Saurabh: I…I think I am going go for an aptitude test.

All of them laughed.

Jones: You did well Nikhil. I am proud of you. Keep going and I am sure you would outscore everyone else in English.

Nikhil(gave a nod): I hope so, Sir.

The party was at its fag end. People started leaving after the photo sessions. Nikhil searched for Mr Jones before he left, found him in a corner talking to some other teachers. Nikhil went up to him.

Nikhil: Sir.

Jones: Yes, Nikhil.

Nikhil: Thank you.

Jones: For what.

Nikhil: For saving our lives.

Jones(smiling): That's putting it a bit too strongly. The pleasure was mine. Best of luck for all your endeavours.

That was the last time when all three of them together met Mr Jones. Eight years from that day, Mr Jones died in a car accident.

It had been shocking when we got the news. He had a huge part to play in what we were today and ofcourse there was no way we were going to leave his wish unfulfilled. We knew what we needed to do so we had traveled to Mr Jones house before this trip to get it. As we stood there, there was only one thing to be seen, the endless water filling up the whole space before our eyes. “This is it. Kalaupapa. The highest sea cliff in the world”, Nikhil said. “The highest. Yes. Mr Jones would have loved this place”, I said with a sigh. “Wow man, we made it. We are finally here”, Saurabh was exultant, for obvious reasons. We stood there for sometime before anyone spoke. “ You do it Nikhil. You should do it.”, I said. Nikhil nodded. I took out the bracelet from my bag and handed it to him. He looked at it and then at the sea as the waves crashed against the rocks. “Thank you Mr Jones and goodbye”, he said. “GoodBye”, I and Saurabh said too. And Nikhil hurled it. We stood following it through its path to the ocean, watched it all the way until we could no longer follow. It had to be this place as we bid farewell to Mr Jones. It had to be this way, just as Mr Jones would have wanted to do it. Mr Jones’ father was, ofcourse, right. There was nothing like the sea.

" The pleasure is all ours, Sir.", Nikhil said staring at the water.