Good ol' days- Birthdays at MIT..

Reddy recently told a story about how Manipal guys instigate fear, no matter how refined they may seem. His story revolved around a colleague of his who was had his birthday on this day. He had heard a lot about the birthday bashing in Manipal. The only representative from our great institution was Bharath Reddy- someone you equate with a gentleman. However, this fellow's hands shivered with fear as he cut the cake. (and he had not yeen seen pics; that's Vikram on his birthday for u above..)

They say birthdays are to be remembered. Well at MIT, we made sure that they were. The BDay boy would remember his birthday for at least two days. A week if bats and wickets were to be found in vicinity at celebration time. Everytime he sat, stood up or did any other trivial task, the aching ass would remind him that his birthday had been celebrated recently.

So here goes on our BDay adventures in MIT:

The venue here is the spooky corridor of 10th block MIT hostel where the poor me is surprised by the sheer number of creatures hovering around my room. The inhabitants of Premier heights, 9th block ( K-Block??) & other far flung lands seem to have magically apparated to the largest hostel of Asia (well they claim it was at one time!!).

Even my pea size brain has adequate capacity to sense the danger. However, little can be done and the crowd surrounds me.

All of a sudden, the ground shifts from beneath my feet as a couple of hands nullify the effect of gravity and it starts raining kicks. The onslaught of the kicks is borne directly by the robust bottom. As more and more people charge ahead to take a shot, the hands holding me get carried away and rush to join the queue. Their feeble brains fail to comprehend that their hands abandoning me would mean victory to gravity. However, queer angles of the hands still holding the subject lead to generation of torque of gregarious magnitude. The subject does a credible topsy turvy turn and somehow manages to stay afloat. The crowd however is oblivious to this and continue with their onslaught. All the while, the vocabulary of abuses in enriched.

Part two depicts how easy it is to polarize Indians. The heinous cameraman Rohonesh Kar: having already enjoyed a sight lets out a war cry of 'Aur Maaro'. Soon the gullible population is repeating the words and phase two begins. At the end, the pain seems to have had some effects on the subject's brain and all he can do is smile to his well wishers. Yes, the same monstrous creatures turn well wishers in a matter of seconds!! The smile belies all the suffering and pain of the subject and he truly mesmerizes the audience by this act of bravery.

There is no mistaking the evil sniggering maniac: Dash. His cynical voice and the capricious demeanor catch your attention instantly. The maniacal skirmish raged with his chappal needs some explanation.

First: He is the 'Dash'

Second: Dash and I share a history of chappal wars.

Considering the number of people present for bashing, we have a tradition of including a couple of more subjects besides the Birthday mortal. This includes roomie, ex-roomie, class-mate, batch-mate, best-friend, branch-mate, etc. Thanks to this we are assured that the number of subjects available never dwindles.

On this fateful day, the search for the 'next' begins. Well since I happened to be a resident of a single room in 10th block, we could have gone as far as ex-crush's present crush's crush's crush if need be.

After little speculation, a more closer relevance is found and Praddy is tagged as the 'ex-roommate'. Despite his pleas to spare his back, there is no stopping the mighty Gogo. The ruthlessness of his legendry kicks mingles mysteriously with his ever amiable face.

Towards the end, I surreptitiously creep in shadows' cover and manage to capture Dash. And then.. ah... Sweet Revenge....