Rs 10 TO STAY VIRGIN..!

Aswin stood up stretching his arms..reached above in his bag on the upper berth and pulled out his charger.. "back in 20 mins" he said as he moved towards the plugpoint.. but he was back in 5 seconds.. I raised my eybrows at him.. "avide oru chechi..eniku naanam..ni po..i'll charge your fone in turn.."..though I wanted to sleep ,eventually I gave in to his persuasion and stood up taking his charger and multipin. I walked up to the girl..she was few years elder than us..and kind of cute..but that was not the reason for him feeling shy..no way..he was just afraid of having to speak hindi. I waved the charger at her(I would use hindi only when sign language didn't work)..she nodded and smiled. I removed her charger, plugged in the multipin, and then both our chargers on to it. She checked her mobile and smiled again to indicate it was charging.
So I stood there by the door watching the vegetation flying past..it was the second day in train and we were somewhere in Andhra Pradesh..i was longing to get home and taste something cooked in coconut oil(dreaded in jarkhand)..and some beef if possible(haven't had any since I joined college). People of North would shudder and give you dirty looks if you told them that you have eaten beef. My delicious thoughts were interrupted by rapturous clapping from the other end of the compartment. I craned my neck to see. It most certainly was what I did not want to see..a group of eunuchs had made their entry. "Chakkas"..the girl whispered.. I knew it was the local word in hindi for hijras. I was surprised that even they had some workplace etiquettes..for they totally ignored sleeping people, eating people and girls. But unfortunately at that moment of time I did not fall into any of those categories. The girl was safe..she was a girl. Aswin was safe..he was sleeping.. "thendi" I thought to myself.
"paisa de baiyya" said the first one(#1) who got to me. The owner of the singsong voice was a little taller than me, heavy, scary, and wore a blue saree. I did not have my purse to buy me peace, so frowned at him/her shaking my head. He/she moved on to the group of guys huddling at the other door. "so easy..?" I thought..i had heard they were quite persistent. Then came a skinny one(#2)..ignoring me, went straight to the first one...they exchanged a few words..then both of them turned their gaze in my direction at the same time. #1 moved on while #2 came to me. This one was less intimidating than the first, so it gave me some confidence. I continued playing the rough guy.. "kuch nahi hai..aage badho".. "kaun aage badho" came the reply. "thum" I said. "main kyun aage badhu".. "achcha..tho khade ho jao yehi pe".. I said turning away to look out of the door again.
After some time I realized that #2 had obeyed my instructions and was standing right next to me. "kya".. I said. "Paisa de". "Mere paas nahi hai". "Kasam khao"..he/she asked me to swear. #2 had begun to get on my nerves here..i told him that I wouldn't give him even if I had any(I don't remember how I managed to say that in hindi). "tho apna lund de.."!!!.
I was taken aback..one month in jarkhand had taught me enough hindi to understand what that meant. I was wondering if I had heard right. My doubts were confirmed by his hand moving menacingly towards my crotch region..i caught it just in time to avoid him snatching my precious possessions.. "bas ek baar pakadne de"(for the sake of those who don't know hindi, it means let me catch your dick just once) she pleaded like a child would plead for icecream.. "NAHI!" I said , the shock noticeable in my voice which was cool so far.. "thik hai..tho " she said..this time trying to kiss me..i took one step back which took me to the door of the train..she followed still trying to kiss me..humiliation was second concern now..i had to save my life as well. I was like the bollywood heroine stuck between the edge of a cliff and the wicked villain.
This was a very tight situation. With my right hand I had to clutch the door handle to keep myself in the running train..with my left hand I was holding away the hungry predator(his hand) from its prey(u know wat)…and with my left elbow I had to keep pushing away his face from mine to avoid being kissed(or licked or bitten). Not knowing what to do I tried some of the classic hindi movie dialogues. But "Yeh kya zabardasthi hai" and "yeh kya batthameesi hai" did not help. It only invigorated #2. Then came a display of immense strength which totally took me by surprise. I did not expect the skinny creature to be able to twist my hand the way she did..just a little more and he would have snapped it like a twig. He had also started showering expletives in hindi which attracted the attention of #3 and #4 who had now finished their collections in our compartment. I was in pain, overpowered and outnumbered. It was amazing how all the other idiots in the compartment who called themselves men would just sit and watch. Maybe it's justifiable. How often do you get to see a boy being raped. Not even in the movies. I had to escape..fighting was futile.
Shaking myself free from her grip, I began to reach for the charger. But #3 had arrived just in time to block my way. She stood between the plugpoint and me. "paisa de babu"..she repeated her favorite dialogue. I did not react. "Isko dikhao" went the instruction from #2 to #3. #3 bent down to hold the bottom of her saree and pulled it up to her knees..she was still pulling it further up but I had got the split second which I needed to pull out the charger over her head. I would have liked to see what he had to show me..rare sights should not be missed..but right then I had neither the time nor the mood..so I ran..back to our seat…where I knew the burly uncle from chennai who we had made friends with the previous day and his burly friends would save me(they were all sleeping so far)..
It took me half an hour to breathe normal again..can such a thing happen to anyone..was I dreaming..then I saw blood on my finger where her nail had scooped out some flesh.. I felt the pain in my wrist which she had twisted..it was real alright.. I could have died falling from a running train.. I could have had a skinny hand crushing my balls.. I could have seen an asset which neither man nor woman can possess..next time I hear the singsong voice saying "paisa de baiyya" I know that the choice he is asking me to make is between Rs 10 and my dick.

we're no ex loyolites!!

“why are you smiling.. ?” dad asked me. “ classile comedikal..” I replied realizing it had been quite some time since I started staring out of the window n smiling. We were on our way back from Ranchi by train after taking admission there. Memories from Loyola constantly running through my head were making me smile. But each piece of the past which made me smile struck a note of sorrow somewhere within. I knew I could not go bak to the past.. go bak to skool. The thought was scary.

Back in ranchi I had made an effort to contrast the place with our own Trivandrum. The results weren’t comforting either. The dull and dusty roads.. old faded buildings that have seen at least 4 generations.. rusted cycle rickshaws.. seemed like a bad dream.

And you wouldn’t find a single attractive personality anywhere. The well dressed ones looked malnutritioned and the healthy ones dressed up like they were in the BPL. To go by their faces most of them were blank like it was some zombie zone. At the crowded railway platform we felt pity for the benches and seats that seemed like sad appendages. For the people were all too particular about sitting on the floor. Men women children and even 80-year-olds could be seen squatting on the floor hugging their knees. There were just a couple of seats which were occupied.. by the stray dogs who had been denied their rightful space on the floor. dark(wouldn’t be wrong to say black) women invariably wore saris that came in fluorescent orange,green,yellow,pink or red colors. And you couldn’t afford to let anyone know that you did not know Hindi properly and were from another state. Coz if you did you would be cheated and well exploited.

While I looked upon the alien world around me with dread, dad found the silver lining. “class cut cheythu pokan patiya sthalam onnum illa.. you would be much happier inside your campus than outside.” Though I passed the comment with a chuckle I knew he was right. The campus was green clean and very pleasant probably the only good place in the city. Besides a quick inconspicuous dash wont get me out of the campus like it did in Loyola.

Tired of all the travel, I was eager to get bak home.. dying to feel the warmth of where I really belonged.. to curl up amidst a whole team of pillows hoping I would wake up in the morning to discover that I was still a skool kid.. a loyolite..

But being bak at trivandrum made no difference. Things did not fall bak into place. On getting home I learned that seby abin and ben just left for goa. The family seemed to be falling apart. Sami was in Bangalore. Aseem joju n Rambo were alredy off to Calicut. Ajeesh was at bhu already , the iitians(sajad basi Gandhi buji n achu) preparing to leave within 3 days, bala at trichur.. bullet and ms at pala.. klases had started for some at baselios.. moses showed no signs of existence.. job , I heard , took admission at banglore.. aswin in Karnataka.. and many who’s plans I don’t even know of…….. it was all normal, expected, and inevitable yet it all seemed like a big mess..

I had run out of things to do here.. I made a couple of phone calls.. ravi n sajad.. 15 minutes each with them was fun..catching up with all that happened while I was away.. it helped me momentarily forget the grief.. but the moment I hung up, the glum feeling of emptiness was bak again.. I couldn’t put it off no matter how I tried..

Yes I am bak home..but a home without my brothers..a home which I too would leave soon.. a home lacking its attributed brimming life and vibrancy.. it hurts me to look upon it.. but consolation comes from the fact that we will all be back..for we all share something that can’t be shed off with time.. a tag that we all wear with the same pride..the tag that says “LOYOLITE”.. a bond of brotherhood..yes we’re all brothers..loyola was and will be our home..because

WE ARE NOT EX LOYOLITES… WE’RE A BUNCH OF HOMESICK LOYOLITES.