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.
