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Dr. Shamit ChopraLIBRARY:
N: A place set apart to contain “The lymphatic vessels of the gall bladder drain into the cystic lymph node of
L…” Whizzz!!! A paper ball zoomed just past the front of my nose. About 1.2
seconds later, another miscible, which must have been fashioned by a true
environment hater headed in my direction. Now, I think – in fact, I am
positive – that the missile was meant for a target other than the lateral
aspect of my left supra orbital ridge. However, it managed to make contact just
there – and landed with a soft plop in my lap. Having suffered the worthless junior for so safely lay claim to being
undergraduate in the been relegated to Class act of foolhardy tolerated at any
cost breathing fire (a cross dragon), I raised my upon the defaulter. But
ignominy of being a may years, I can now the senior most campus (the interns
having V worker status). Such an bravado was not to be So, gnashing my teeth and
between Dracula and a head to let all hell loose I was in for a shock.
A bombshell fucchi was looking beseechingly in my direction. Perfectly sculpted
lips pouting just enough to encompass a semblance of humility, every resembling
pools of molten amber, a sincerely apologetic smile punctuated with dimples good
enough to hold a day’s rain (!?!) – she truly was a sight for sore eyes.
With a voice hardly more than a whisper, she pointed out her batch mate who was
meant to be the target of the misguided Cruise. I don’t know what it was – AF of AFI – but all I knew was that such a dish certainly didn’t merit a verbal spanking. So I merely thanked my supra orbital ridge for getting in the way, mumbled some un intelligible gibberish – and she mumbled something in return, smiled and returned to her Harper’s. Normalcy having been restored in my immediate surroundings, I indulged in some perfunctory voluntary nystagmus to sample the other ongoing in the library . Pandemonium was reigning, as the 5 o’clock rush hour was in full swing. Seats were being traded faster than in the Bihar vidhan Sabha – and the new arrivals were busy getting acclimatized to the environs. Having had more than a bird’s eye view, I left for the therapeutic daily dose of caffeine. I sauntered up to the Nescafe counter John Wayne Style and demanded coffee.
“Hot or cold?” asked the guy with an air of expectancy in his voice (the
cold variety being double the price). I could almost hear the hissing sound of
my deflating ego as I oinked, “Hot”. The guy flashed a look of obvious
disdain with as much irreverence as was amicable possible – and pressed the
magic button. As the frothy hot liquid made its way into the cup underneath, I
feasted my orbs on the gorgeous chick standing next to me. I could hear my soul
groaning under the excess baggage of YET another mini-crush, and would have gone
on ogling had a stony voice not shaken me out of my reverie – “Sir, HOT
coffee,” deliberately emphasizing the world ‘hot.’ It was plainly obvious
that the babe too was amused over my choice of beverage in an unusually torrid
weather. Seething with range, I chose to make a gracious exit. The rest of my innocuous jaunt was not to prove uneventful either. For perched
on top of the library steps was the ethereal fucchi who has chosen to bombard me
with paper missiles and otherwise. I kept on walking while staring fixedly n
here direction, ready to smile as soon as she looked up from her book. By the
time, I reached the penultimate step, I was so consumed with self pity that my
cerebrum refused to coordinate my muscular activity – and I landed in a big
heap on the steps! Giggles reputed all around me, as a couple of my burly
bathmats helped me to my feet. Sensing a real KLPD (Knockot love with
physical distress) situation, I glanced in her direction, realizing to my
horror that the abovementioned cup of HOT coffee was lying upside down in her
lap! She rose, gave me a pained expression and fled down the steps in the
direction of OGH. Serves you right for dropping paper balls in my lap, I though
–and limped into the library. The next two hours were pretty uneventful, and ended with a short nap, in which
I had a horrible dream. I was drowning in a huge tub of HOT coffee, with the
coffee vendor and the fucchi making fun of me while standing on the rim of the
tub! I awoke with a start, to find that I was surrounded on all sides by fucchis!
Hoping that this was in on way related to the evening’s events, I buried my
head in my Bailey, and pretended to ignore them. “Hey what the hell is the Foramen of Winslow?” I
asked the best
one of the lost, finally breaking my verbal celibacy after a record 38 minutes.
She looked at me, then at her colleagues – who appeared equally bewildered-and
broke into a giggle, of all this! Her friends followed suit, as I watched
absolutely flummoxed, they ran out into the library foyer-where they went
totally berserk laughing while creating a real big din.
The remaining occupants of the reading room glowered at me –as if I
were responsible for all this. I threw up my hands in mock exasperation and
returned to my book. Sometime
later, one of the them came up to to me and said, “sir! I hoe you didn’t
mind. Actually, wee were mocking the fact that we don’t remember anything a
week before the sent-ups start”. I
cleared my throat and answered “That’s not my problem if you get a kick out
of mocking yourself. But you better keep that the nitrous oxide handy honey.
Someday, the LNJP OT may run out of anaesthetic”.
She gave me a dagger look, turned around with her nose in the air and
fumed out of the library. I chuckled and returned to theotomy-ectomy and ostomy
world. A few more minutes, and darkness fell all over the campus. I ventured out for a
night-time stroll after a prophylactic chant of the “Hanuman Chalisa” –
only to find several pairs cootchie-cooing under trees, with a few brazen enough
to take on the world by sitting on the MAMC Stonehenge (the benches in the
library lawns). Cupid should never
even think of a coming here, I thought, because – a)
There
already too much love wafting in the air. b)
He would, in
no time at all, be covered with bird-droppings! Driving these bizarre and demented thought from my mind, I made my way towards
the MAMC Esplanade (Read: The Book Shop, Electrostat Centre and the Coffee
Counter) when I sighted a pair of a different kind. Two members of the canine
species, completely obvious of the bemused onlookers, were indulging in some
sort of a rhythmic activity which Asha Parekh would certainly have found
objectionable! My mind was instantly flooded with memories of a pair of ants
indulging in the same amorous exercise on a free trunk n the library lawns a
couple of months back! The MAMC library does that to everybody, I thought –as
I entered its hallowed portals again. I walked leaden-footed to my seat, occupied the creaking chair and closed my
eyes. Recollecting the day that was, I felt a hand tug at my ear, and turned
around. One of my hostel pals loomed over me, grinning cheekily as he said,
“Abe, Saturday night ko yahaan kya kar raha hai? Chal, movie dekhne chalen.”
Sleepily, I asked “Kaun Si?” “Hera- Pheri Suna hai it’s a
fundoo comedy with lots of tapori style songs.” At that point of time, I felt something’s snap within me. Surgery by goddamned this was Saturday, a time to chill out and paint the town red! Getting up and reaching the foyer, I whistled softly at a female batch mate of mine, crumpled a paper into a ball and threw it into the dustbin, kicked an empty coffee cup out of my may, laughed heartily and planted a kiss on the cheek of my stunned companion. Having exorcised the day’s demons, I mused over the final thought of the day- Tomorrow is another day; and tomorrow never dies (curtsey Saint Ian Fleming).
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