The Hitman's Mocked Slap- A short story

It was the night Mungeri had been dreading for a while. At last, he got his call from The ‘Hitman’, one of the most dreaded Third year seniors of KYTC College of Engineering. The news had come in a day earlier, through a secret email as per the norm.

None of the juniors sweating out the days of ragging knew Hitman’s real name. Lean and tall, he mostly wore a dark and worn out jacket with a hood, hiding his face to an extent. He spoke rarely, but whenever he did, everyone around listened intently. The uncanny scar above his right eye granted him a deadly appearance.

He was popular for his legendary ‘Blackout’ slap. Literally, the fresher who received it, would experience a complete blackout for the next few seconds. Some would also see stars in the black background accompanied with a strong buzzing sensation in the ear. To add to the deadly effect, the innocuous junior wouldn’t even realize when exactly it was coming. The Hitman was expert at creating the suspense.

Normally, he would stroll around his ‘Bakra’, the junior, who had been called upon and keep talking random stuff with his friends, who would be there with him encircling the junior. The poor soul, with his eyes closed, would be earnestly awaiting the slap. It would take anywhere between 2-15 minutes depending on the Hitman’s mood. Mostly, it would be executed in the middle of a sentence that would surely take the junior by surprise.

The speed and the accuracy would always work in perfect harmony to ensure desired impact of the ‘cult’ slap. There would be a visible mark left on the upper neck of the victim. And that would be the passport for the junior to enter the Hitman’s Buddies club. Post induction, he would have the protection of the Man himself from other seniors till the fresher’s party. And the benefits did not end there. They just became glamorous.

As Hit Man was quite popular within the girls, he could introduce the new member to them and greaten his chances at finding a girlfriend, which was anyway an uphill task, considering the abysmal sex ratio in the college.

But, the Hitman did not call just any Bakra. There was a secret selection procedure which he only knew about. And if grapevine was to be believed, there should have been be a distinctive element in the personality of the junior that should trigger his interest. Sometimes, he would chat on messenger with his prospect to make sure only the right junior gets called.

The night before the D-day, Mungeri had an unusual dream. Akin to Raj of DDLJ, he was facing the torrent of slaps from Baldev Singh. Baldev was wearing a jacket with a hood just like the Hitman.  Mungeri kept telling him that he did not even know Simran, but he would not listen.  He was confident, that just like in the movie, Baldev would stop after the eighth slap. To his horror, his intensity only increased after the eighth slap and he yelled at the top of his voice, “You idiot. This is not a movie.” That was the moment of truth. Because, then only, Mungeri realized, on closer observation, that the yelling man was not Baldev. It was The Hitman himself. Getting up with a jolt, and regaining his senses, he was relieved that he still had a day to prepare himself before he faces the Hitman in real.

The D-day was here. It was 10:30 PM, the time that was going to decide his destiny. Slowly, dragging his feet to the notorious-for-ragging Third-year-hostel-block, Mungeri’s mind had contradictory feelings. From the vivid descriptions given by his fellow freshers, the physical pain and even more, the emotional torture, seemed too scary to endure.

At one time, he had even considered cancelling his visit and admit lack of courage in facing the Hitman. But as fate would have had it, Mungeri heard of a grapevine which made him sure of facing the drill. It was known that, Beera Das, his second year senior, had gotten lucky with a girl with Hitman’s help. And this was big news in the college, considering Beera seemed a total loser from most aspects. ‘If he can get lucky, I am sure I can just rock, with a little help from Hitman,’ Mungeri smiled.

Climbing up the stairs towards the terrace of the third year hostel, he encountered many seniors. Many had the urge to grab him. But, almost immediately, they seemed to realize, on looking at their watches, that he was the ‘chosen one’. No one messes with the Hitman’s bakra. It seemed to be an unstated rule.

As he entered the terrace, he started scanning the terrace from one of the corners. There were small groups of seniors having sutta and chitchatting amongst themselves. When he was almost at the end of his panoramic view, he could finally trace the ‘Hitman’ based on the vivid description he had access to.

Mungeri was spotted and asked to join the group. He was asked to remove his eye glasses, close his eyes and just wait. Standing in the middle of the group now, every second seemed to take a heavy toll on his terrified mind. The seniors kept mocking about few professors. The topic then changed to the precious few hot girls of third year batch. In all those conversations, Hitman would come up with some witty remark in between and others would laugh aloud.

 ‘It must have been 15 minutes since the time I came here,’ thought Mungeri. In between their conversations, he had tried to open his eyes and have a peek to see what’s happening. He was caught immediately and asked with a stern tone to keep his eyes shut. Finally, his intuition told him that the moment had come. The next thing he knew, he was in his hostel bed.

It was 11 AM when he woke up. As expected, the first thing he wanted to know was if he got the slap or not. Closely inspecting himself in the mirror, he could not see any mark; nor could he feel any pain or remember anything that would certify that, he, actually was slapped. Immediately, he went out and noticed a rare admiration from his batch mates. It seemed everyone around was talking about Mungeri in closed groups. Finally, he came across his good friend Rakesh who told him everything.

It so happened, that just when Hitman was about to slap Mungeri, a monkey jumped across from the nearby porch and slapped Hitman instead. Mungeri had fainted few seconds earlier only and had no clue what was happening. Notwithstanding the fact that the monkey had come from nowhere, it had vanished all of a sudden. All of it happened so fast, so as to leave everyone astounded and mocking at the Hitman, silently.

Out of utter humiliation, the Hitman could not go out from his room for a week. The campus was thick with rumors for the next few days post the incident. Some said that since Mungeri was a staunch follower of Hanumanji, this was an act of divine intervention. Others said that Mungeri was seen training a monkey a few days back at the outskirts of the college.

It did not matter what others believed. After knowing what had really happened on the D-day, Mungeri could not help but smile.

Of course there could be serious repercussions based on the rumors in the air. But, somehow he was quite prepared for the same. Yes, he missed on his membership to the privileged ‘Hitman’s Buddies ’club. But no one could know that a new club for the freshers, christened ‘The Bajrangbali Club’ was on its way. And who would know, if one day, that might go on to attain a cult status as well.

Sequel to 'Love in Train, Heartbreak in Bus'

Not many passengers accepted chocolates from the weird heart- broken stranger. As a result, when he got out of the bus, Rohan still had many chocolates left in his Ferrero Roche box. He so wanted to kick that box on NH 17. Instead, he offered it to his hostel security guard, who accepted it with a big grin. The money borrowed from his friends seemed worth it and he managed a smile that had escaped him through the ugly turn of events of the fateful day.

Trying to sleep that night, a zillion questions hijacked his mind. ‘Why so abrupt? Was holding Nisha’s hand made her think he was going too fast? Didn’t he deserve a chance to clarify himself? Could she actually be involved with some other guy? Was it a just a trick played by one of her friends?’  Being an optimist, he still thought that Nisha might realize her mistake and contact him. Anxiously waiting for a week, he finally started to come to terms with the harsh reality.

Of course, it wasn’t going to be easy coming back to his normal self. Plus, his fourth semester exams were approaching and like a typical engineer, he had to be ready enough to study for at least the duration of the exams. He had to make peace with himself and move on. If only he had a picture of Nisha, flushing the same might have helped. So, a different strategy was needed.

After a lot of deliberation, venting out his angst, disappointment, frustration and melancholy through an email seemed to be the best option. And the process of drafting ‘The Email’ commenced. After two days and three nights, the email was finally complete. It was the longest email he had ever composed or received till date. Sitting in the computer lab at midnight, as he was about to hit the send button, an unseen power stopped him. ‘Golmaal hai bhai sab golmaal hai’, he could hear the tune playing somewhere in the background. So, discarding the original long email, all he could send was, ‘Don’t do this to anyone else, it really hurts’.

 

That night, he felt much lighter and finally managed to get some sound sleep. A dream took over shortly, in which he was still ‘The Romeo’ walking with Nisha across a scenic landscape in Manipal, and singing ‘Teri yaadein mehfooz hai, baaki sab fizool hai’. It was a song they had composed impromptu in real life while strolling on their second date. Rohan did not realize that he was singing that song at the top of his voice in his sleep. Mohit, his roommate woke up with a jolt. All polite ways to stop Rohan from singing at 3 AM in the night had failed. Slap on the face was the only option left with Mohit. ‘Nisha, what happened now?’ Rohan blurted as he woke up startled from the slap. ‘Nothing my dear, I was hoping that you would kiss me good night’, Mohit said with a mocking feminine voice. Both of them had a good 3 AM laughter and crashed to bed again.

The following days saw Rohan studying as never before. His internal test scores had already taken a hit, thanks to the ‘Love Fever’. So, he needed to do well in the main semester exams to cover up. This was a chance to prove to himself and specially his friend Jai Dhawan who had mockingly drawn the declining graph of his marks from the time he had met Nisha.

He fared well in most of the subjects except Engineering Drawing II. In response to one of the questions to draw the projection of a Hexagonal nut, he drew something that was beyond the comprehension of any mechanical engineering professor. On closer inspection, it turned out to be the side view of a girl’s face. Of course, he got his share of mock from all stakeholders for his piece of art in the semester exam. So much for the final withdrawal symptoms of love.

The much awaited inter college festival ‘Incident- 2002’ was scheduled just few days post the start of next semester. So, this time, as an exception, he decided against going home for vacation after the exams. Instead, the thought of practicing for the music competition captured his mind. This year the fest was happening in PES Bangalore. And he was more than excited to visit a new place and interact with musically inclined folks. Nisha’s college, KMC Manipal was also participating in the fest. A thought crossed his mind, ‘What if she is a part of her college band or just planning to visit to support her team’? He feared any encounter with her.

Meanwhile, Rohan was experiencing changes he never anticipated. Earlier, music for him mostly meant Kishore Kumar songs. Before he knew, Pink Floyd and Metallica took control. Outings to pocket-friendly Beer serving pubs graduated to hostel rooms stuffed with Old Monk. He could experience for himself what peace lay in a grass joint with Pink Floyd playing in a dark room with a revolving lamp and why this was a considered a cult experience in engineering hostels. The solace from rock music couldn’t have come at a better time.

Time was ticking, and it was just two weeks left for the fest. Rohan was convinced that instead of participating in the Eastern musical genre that was his forte until then, he would give western music a shot. ‘Nothing else matters’ from Metallica was chosen as the track his team would perform. This time he also got engaged in a fusion song along with two colleges from Manipal- KMC and MIT. This was to be a non-competitive song and some seniors from the participating colleges thought this would be a novel idea. Rohan along with his band had to travel to MIT Manipal for practice sessions for the fusion song. Sandra, an easy going girl, was one of the lead vocalists in the song with Rohan. She was from KMC, and during a casual chit chat had mentioned about Nisha, her classmate. ‘She has been performing in the fest for the last two years, but this time she doesn’t seem interested’, Sandra remarked.  There was an immediate uneasiness that showed on Rohan’s face. It was a girl’s natural talent in perceiving emotions that made Sandra understand much more than what was revealed. They never talked about Nisha in the subsequent practice sessions.

The D-day had arrived. Rohan, along with his band members was all set to rock the stage. It was a typical pleasant and windy Bangalore evening. The western musical competition had gathered heat as popular numbers from Pink Floyd, Nirvana, Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden set the stage ablaze. There was a huge round of applause when the KREC team performed ‘Nothing else matters’. ‘Once more, once more….’ , as the crowd roared, Rohan felt a kind of high never experienced before.

It was now the turn of the fusion number that the crowd was anxiously waiting to listen. Three colleges, three versatile teams, collaborating for a fusion of Sufi and Rock was a first of its kind performance in an inter-college fest. As the members occupied their places on the stage, sound check commenced. Surprisingly, there was no microphone on the stand which Rohan occupied. And worse, Sandra, his co- vocalist disappeared all of a sudden. By the time Rohan could sense something fishy, his ears strained to hear, ‘Teri yaadein mehfooz hai, baaki sab fizool hai’. The lights focused on the two girls standing across the stage with a microphone between them. Sandra, one of those two girls, gave a wink to Rohan who was struggling to hide his emotions. The season of surprises was back again with a bang!!

Dad's Whatsapp Message

Rohan is sitting near boarding gate 8B of Kempegowda International Airport, Bengaluru waiting for his flight to Mumbai. He had waited eagerly for this moment. After a long tenure of hostel ragging which stretched till end of his second semester engineering degree course, this was a much needed vacation.

It had been almost 45 minutes since he was last ‘Online’. But it felt like eternity. So, after the usual nitty-gritties of boarding pass collection and security check, he was more than happy to settle down and connect to the free airport WiFi network. As his smartphone gathered its wits to take on the numerous updates from the umpteen social networks that he was a proud member, there was a certain noticeable restlessness on his face.

The whatsapp icon was the first one to be noticed, a number of 87 (notifications) tagged with it. ‘Oh my God! What the hell has happened in the last 45 minutes’, Rohan sighed. On checking the details, he realized that 85 messages were from his girlfriend Simran, and the rest 2 from his Dad. The new found love in his life was his natural priority over Dad. Simran’s whatsapp window exploded with ‘n’ number of pictures. Even the normally robust airport WiFi was put to shame, as the images just did not stop to queue up for download.

Typically, Simran managed to coax Rohan in accompanying her for shopping. At this moment, when there were irresistible sales going all around, Rohan was not around. She curse her luck, but shortly set her eyes on the online shopping websites offering even higher discounts plus 30 day return policy. She planned to try all the dresses and then seek Rohan’s whatsapp approval so that she could return the rest. “Which of these two is looking better?”. This followed with dozens of images, Simran posing happily in her latest collection. “Which footwear out of these three suits me Jaanu?” “You have been away for just a day, and I already feel so lonely” ..”Tell me, you love me”. He knows that whatever may be the final choice she makes, one thing is sure. It would definitely not be the one that he recommended. ‘Women, you cant live with them, can’t live without them’, Rohan sighed.

Meanwhile, an old man happened to stop by and ask something to Rohan. But, the pressure of replying to Simran seemed way too much, so the old man feeling ignored, left. A few moments later, a middle aged woman sitting a few seats adjacent to Rohan suddenly stood up and started to move towards boarding gate 6.This was repeated by a group of students sitting near to him. Considering something was amiss, Rohan had to finally take a break from his ‘virtual’ world and acknowledge the ‘real’ world where boarding gates can change at the very last moment.

Now, standing in the queue in front of the new boarding gate, he finally remembered that there was a message from his Dad as well. “Rohan, where are you? Your phone is not reachable. You will be thrilled to know that your grandfather…….”Rohan could not read further as his mind drifted back in memories of the time spent with his grandfather. He was his favorite companion as far as he could remember. Then, one unfortunate day, when Rohan was about 7 years old, his grandfather left the house without informing anybody after a bitter argument with his son.

When his mind returned to the present, he found himself seated in the plane which was about to take off. He continued reading the whatsapp message from his Dad. “You will be thrilled to know that your grandfather has been found in Bengaluru by one of my close friends, who recognized him near 100 feet road, Indiranagar. Check out his photo that my friend managed to click. As the image was loading, Rohan was super excited to finally know about the whereabouts of his grandfather. But when he closely observed the image, he was in for a shock. The man in the picture was the same old man who had asked for his help while he was busy in his virtual world with Simran. Before his mind could act, the Boeing 707 had taken off.

Love in Train, Heartbreak in Bus

‘Please have some chocolates, sir. The driver of the Mangalore bound KSRTC bus gave a confused expression, to the stranger who had just barged near the driver’s seat. With a tear rolling down his left cheek and a forced smile on his face, Rohan insisted the driver, ‘Take it sir, it’s my happy birthday’. Not knowing how to react to this situation, he took a couple of Ferrero Rochers and started the engine, avoiding the need to have any further conversation.

Jai and Adi, seated in the second row of the bus watched their friend Rohan with pitiful eyes. As he turned and started walking towards them, they looked at each other and knew instinctively that another weird act from Rohan was on the cards.

Going back three months in time, it seemed love had started to find him……..

There was a family wedding that Rohan needed to attend, so he had to travel in the middle of his semester. Accustomed to travel with his usual gang, his onward journey via Mangla express from Mangalore to  Delhi was quite boring, and he took refuge in sleeping for the better part of the 38 hour journey. After attending the wedding, he kept some novels to give him company for his return trip to Mangalore.

After bidding farewell to his dad who had come to drop him at the station, he dumped his luggage under his seat and went out for his usual stroll on the platform. At the hoot of the engine, Rohan boarded his coach and could not believe his luck when he saw a cute girl sitting right across his seat. When his eyes met hers, it was ‘Recognition at first sight’. He was 100% sure that the girl in front of him was Parul, his classmate from 5^th to 7^th standard. ‘Are you Parul?’ ,he plunged into the conversation, very confident of himself. ‘No’, short and pointed was the reply, which put him at a loss of words. Gathering his wits again, ‘You have a sister named Parul?’ .The girl studied his face, took a pause before answering. It was the same crisp ‘No’ again. Rohan’s mind went completely blank this time, and he felt the urge to get some fresh air.

There was an unusual calmness on the girl’s face that helped him regain his composure. He duly apologized to the girl and assured her that he had no intention to flirt, as conventional wisdom would have made her believe. Rohan’s imagined Parul turned out to be Nisha, and she was studying MBBS from BMC Manipal.

The ice had been broken between the two and that gave room to conversations. The usual topics included hobbies, movies, college, ragging and so on. Rohan, being a shy person, was amazed at how effortlessly he could talk with her. After a couple of hours, there seemed to be a dearth of topics. Rohan’s long journey experience came handy as he initiated the 16 question game wherein a player had to guess a famous personality the opponent had in mind by asking a maximum of 16 questions. The fallout of the game was exciting conversation based on popular personalities. And the best part... Music emerged as something both were passionate about. Post dinner, Rohan could not sleep. ‘Pyaar dosti hai’, these lines kept on inhabiting his mind for a long time.

The next day Rohan decided to play his trump card. He initiated a game of ‘Antaakshari’ and invited co-passengers around to play. Different variations in the game were orchestrated which would consume a good portion of the day. Rohan was pleased to see a sticker of liking on Nisha’s face for his singing abilities. Then came the dinner time, and Nisha’s destination was just five hours away. Sleeping was out of question. Instead, the remaining time passed by discussing about life, priorities, cultural influences and so on. Rohan could not help but wonder, ‘Seriously, it’s just a day I have known this girl?’ As the train approached Udupi station, he helped her with the luggage. Thankfully, they exchanged email addresses. As they bid farewell, both of them knew by instinct this was not their last meeting. Rohan could not help smile playing with the thought that if they were together for five more hours, he would have proposed her. He was infected with the ‘Love Fever’, the type he had only witnessed in films.

The next day at college, Rohan was seen smiling for no reason. Lectures did not seem boring, the hot and humid weather seemed surprisingly pleasant. Of course, every type of fever has a silver lining. Frequency of visit to Computer department increased, considering email was the chosen communication channel between them. And so, after some email exchanges, it was decided that Rohan would celebrate his upcoming birthday with her, as most of his friends would not be around that time. They were planning a road trip to Goa. Of course for him, it was not just his birthday, but the much anticipated ‘first date’.

As he boarded the bus to Manipal, his ears strained to hear “Dil to pagal hai, dil deewana hai”. Unable to locate the source of the sound track, he realized it was just some happy corner of his head playing the song. The imaginative love playlist stopped by its own once he reached her hostel gate. Nisha arrived shortly looking lovely as ever with a bouquet in her hands. ‘Seriously, for whom did she get the bouquet?’, Rohan wondered. His query was quickly answered when she wished him with the same bouquet. Though it had assorted flowers, poor Rohan’s eyes could not see beyond the few scattered red roses. So much for the stupid conventional wisdom.

After the special welcome, she took him to a nearby restaurant. Once inside, she guided him to a small private section. The room was completely silent, dim lights adding on to a certain experience that can only be felt. ‘What next’, he thought. His eyes zoomed in on the center table with a candle lit birthday cake waiting for him. Surely, another surprise like this one and his ‘fever’ would have made him faint. Post the cake cutting, they aimlessly strolled across nearby places marked by beautiful scenic beauty Manipal is famous for.

As her hostels entry time was approaching, Rohan promised to give his birthday treat the next time they meet and left with a winning grin. On his bus journey back to college, he thought he heard ‘wo ha Nisha, wo hi meri zindagi ki dor hai’ playing somewhere. This time, it was actually playing on the radio. So much for the little joys of life, considering that it was quite rare to find a Bollywood number playing on predominant Kannada FM channels. ‘Magic of Nisha’, he smiled.

Once inside his KREC campus, Rohan was proudly walking with the bouquet and the birthday cake in his hands. Few of his batch mates saw him and within no time, the word about his romantic achievements spread like fire. As he entered his second year hostel building, he was not allowed to go to his room. Instead, few of his mechanical engineering classmates escorted him to the common room. He sat on a chair, still holding his prized possessions. Soon, he was surrounded by a bunch of eager faces waiting to hear from him. It felt he had lived up to the glorious dream of every mechanical engineer. The standing ovation he received felt no less than a gallantry award. The poor fellow did not realize that a wicked GPL was waiting him. And he won’t be able to sit properly for next few days. #Side#effects#of#first#date   #Frustrated#Mechanical#Engineers. That night, though he groaned with physical pain due to the kicks he got, there was a smile of hope on his face.

The emails progressed to telephone calls they made on each other’s common hostel number. The next date was fixed shortly. As planned, Nisha happily plunged into the shoes of an experienced guide and showed Rohan some popular churches and cafes, followed by a short movie running in one of the mini theatres that the Manipal-Mangalore belt was famous for. Frequently, along the long strolls, Nisha requested Rohan to sing some of her favorite songs, which he happily obliged. All was good until Rohan ‘errored’. Towards the last part of their retreat towards Nisha’s hostel, in the heat of the ‘fever’, he held her hand. Nisha, on her part, elegantly withdrew her hand and stepped aside. They continued their walk. As he prepared to leave, Rohan sensed something amiss, but neither one of them spoke about it.

The next few days Rohan felt awful. Citing illness, her impending exams and other not so believable reasons, Nisha started to avoid him. He was anxious like never before and could hardly concentrate on anything. All he needed was one meeting to clear any misunderstanding. At last, she agreed to meet him. May be it was divine intervention, but this time, Jai and Adi decided to come along. Also, Nisha’s birthday was approaching. So, Rohan managed to borrow some money from his buddies, and bought a grand packet of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. He had heard about its guaranteed power to bring a smile on the female face.

With a big box of chocolates and love instilled hope in his heart, Rohan boarded the bus to Manipal with his friends. They had agreed that after the meet and greet, Jai and Adi would take on a different path leaving their ‘Romeo’ with Nisha. And they would meet him at 8PM near the main bus stand. So, there they were in front of Nisha’s hostel. After waiting for half an hour, Rohan could not control his anxiety. He found a telephone booth nearby, and called her hostel’s common room number. It went unanswered. Rohan kept on trying nervously till someone answered. Luckily, the girl on the phone told Rohan that she would call Nisha and asked him to hold on. The five minute wait seemed like forever. ‘Nisha has gone out’, Rohan could not believe it, and asked her to repeat pretending that there was some background noise. ’Nisha has gone out with her boyfriend’, he could hear a girl giggling in the background. The receiver left Rohan’s hand on its own. His friends could clearly notice his muted expressions, even from a distance. He asked them to leave him alone for some time.

Coming back to the present….

So, there they were in the Mangalore bound bus. Rohan turned and started walking towards the fellow passengers. He politely offered them chocolates, with a …‘May you pass in Love’. 

His tears had dried up by now as he took a seat behind his friends.Somewhere in the background, he could hear “Ye kya hua, kaise hue, kab hua, kyo hua”. This time again, he realized the tune was playing in his head only. The surroundings seemed dark and very very silent.