Mission Admission and Beyond - Part III

Part III: Ragging? Naa... say PDP

I already spoke about the fear-factor that haunted us…the ever-beguiling (and over-hyped) term…RAGGING. We started getting a feel of it at its premature stages itself…right from the second day of college. We were taught (or should I say - trained) everything though…what to say, how to say, what to do and how to do. The ‘lessons’ were never direct; they’d only give a subtle hint… that would enable us to get the answer. The first ‘lesson’ to be learnt was – Hostel Rules. We were supposed to enquire and find out. The catch was – no hostel senior would spell them out and no day-scholar would know. So the right way was to assume and grope for answers…and if the seniors were convinced that we made an effort, they’d tell us the rules, and ask someone to teach everyone. Thereafter, if anyone doesn’t answer, he’ll be put on the rack. We were made to perform some other activities also (parental advisory…read at your own peril)…like abusing each other as harshly as possible, seducing a tree with ‘emotions’, performing gay-scenes (luckily with clothes on), and had to play many other gross games. One of them is KBC, another is Colgate, and they’re more nameless games too. Can’t describe KBC (hint…we’re supposed to answer questions)…. too obscene to be put up on a family-blog like mine. Colgate is atleast describable – one guy is supposed to apply toothpaste on his teeth, and the other guy is supposed to suck it out (yuckkkkk, yes!!!). There’re rules and tricks for all games (which I won’t give away…waiting for fuchchas next year!!!)

Trust me, after the initial disgust (and cringing), we realized that all these games were actually entertaining…may be our standards took nose-dives or whatever, but towards the later part, we actually used to laugh them off, and do everything sportingly (that’s the key to everything here…. a very important lesson for life).
There’s another facet of ragging (it shouldn’t be called so here atleast, and luckily it’s not)…it is called PDP (Personality Development Programme). We were made to bring forms (for CA, CAT, IIFT etc) and movie tickets and withdraw money from ATMs, and get railway reservations done (note the ands…it isn’t a typographical error), from far-flung places in Delhi. The good part about it is that you’re reimbursed all costs (transport, calling etc), and are given ‘refreshment’ too (we called it ‘pagaar’ or ‘tips’ however). We learnt quite a few things in the process (and some the hard-way). I for one, never withdrew money from an ATM, almost never traveled alone (let alone in an alien city like Delhi), never haggled for prices, never stood in railway queues etc, before coming here…and it’s all been an experience. The goof-ups notwithstanding (there were few…not denying that), the PDP thing really gave us a lot. We now know no fear (want proofs?)… Singing the hostel pledge (can’t write it here - ask the hostellers how holy the lyrics are…) standing in the middle of the road requires guts, walking up to unknown girls in college and proposing also requires intrepidity. So all in all, we gained, and this ‘ragging-period’ will supposedly ‘equip us for life’ (to quote a senior). There were certain unwritten (obviously…) rules that were imposed. Wishing the seniors whenever we see them, addressing them as ‘sir’; wearing formals to class, not being allowed to carry a bag, not being allowed to sit in the first bench etc. There were a few practical concessions though (and we thank them for these) – we needn’t wish them, if we are with our girlfriends or classmates (lest we feel embarrassed).
The one thing bugging was these ‘where are you? Come to room no. 28 immediately’ sort of messages. The best thing was to ignore them, and if at all reprimanded, claim that you’re phone was on silent mode and that you didn’t see (ha ha ha). The innumerable amounts of water we had to fill was another pain. The moment a senior spotted one of us in their block, he would hand over his bottle, and then others their bottles, vessels, or containers (or whatever) …and ask us to fill them up. I on a certain day, filled as many as 21 bottles at once!!! (And this for someone, who never even had to even take water himself from the fridge).
All this was supposed to terminate after the Hostel Freshers’ Party, which always seemed an eternity away.


PS: Ragging is officially banned, hence can't put pictures up....