Mission Admission and Beyond - Part VI

Part VI: Hostel Freshers (A Day of Cruel Kindness...)

So the day arrived… the 24th of September 2006 – the day of our Hostel Freshers’ Party. This was the day the 1st Year hostellers (fuchchas) were eagerly, anxiously and desperately awaiting. On this very day was supposed to be ‘the worst one hour’ of our lives and following the – the best two and a half years – hence the apprehension. We heard a lot of these so-called ‘horror’ stories, but I for one, took them lightly. So what exactly happened that day…to know that, read on!

After lunch on that day, three of us were called into the hostel cultural secretary’s room, to blow a hundred odd balloons. I never had the idea that I could actually blow about 70 balloons single-handedly, well, that’s a different story. After some silly stuff (putting balloons inside your T-shirt and asking someone to fondle etc….), we were all sent to our block to take bath and dress up ‘formally’ as the Principal and the Warden were supposed to address us. After the surprisingly informal speech thoroughly punctuated by cheeky comments and feel-good one-liners, we had delicious food in the mess (for once!!!).The normal food in the mess equips you to face any sort of food in life, so that’s not all that bad too (isn’t it?) The reason was – caterers had come from outside (lol). The ceremony ‘formally’ concluded when we gave away the Best Senior Awards – one from the 2nd year and one from the 3rd. But as I said, the ceremony ‘formally’ ended, now the ‘real’ thing started. The seniors gave Mr. And Miss Fuchcha (yes! Miss Fuchcha in a boys’ hostel) titles. The Miss Fuchcha is by the way supposed to strip off, wear pink lingerie and also do disgusting stuff like blow condoms and pose for photographs (being that awfully clad). It sounds nauseating…but believe me, it’s awesome fun. Thereafter we were informed of the ‘dress-code’ in which we were supposed to be attired in, for the movie that we’d planned to go.
So the ‘dress-code’…what exactly is it? Here it goes – Formal full-sleeve shirt with one sleeve rolled up, Bermudas (or shorts) with a belt worn over, the shirt tucked in from one side and not from the other, a shoe-polish ‘teeka’, well-oiled (not gelled) hair with a pony-tail and footwear – formal shoe on the right and a hawai chappal on the left. We were all excited and embarrassed to the same measure and took loads of photos as well.

The ‘worst one-hour’ was just about to begin – the dreaded ‘kicking session’. We queued up, one by one, boldly. The tradition is that, after you receive the kick from a particular senior, you needn’t address him as ‘sir’, not just that you can even call him by his nickname (assigned either by us or by his batch mates). But wait…all this was supposed to happen after each one of us got sixty (yes, sixty!!!) bone-jarring kicks on our posterior. Seniors basically compete on who’s kick was the hardest – they take long run-ups, all of them wear shoes and give one power kick…the immediate expression is ‘Ahhhhhh….’ Or a profanity (can’t type them here) and then the senior hugs you, introduces himself and then welcomes you to the hostel. The same thing repeats for the next 59 times, and if you just happen to be the ‘favourite fuchcha’ of some senior, he can give you any number of kicks he wants to. I fortunately (or unfortunately in this case), happened to be a favourite of quite a few seniors and thereby received many more than my batch-mates. After the kicks none was able to move, let alone walk or sit and travel in the bus for the movie which we’d planned to see. Taking baby-steps, crawling and limping, we somehow got in to the bus at a snail’s pace and started teasing the seniors (for the first time by the way). The seniors (obviously feeling helpless) had this to say – ‘Uchlo beta! Ab tumhara hi mauka hai’ (Jump, my boy, it’s your turn now). We called the seniors by their nicknames and raised slogans like – ‘Sabse bada haraami aaja, Raja Raja’ or ‘Hawas ka pujari kaun, Aman Aman’ or simply ‘Kedia loves Tina, Kedia loves Tina’ (let me not reveal anything more for now…. lol)

For once, we forgot that our buttocks were all sore and red and we weren’t actually being able to sit…. until a monstrous speed breaker arrived and we were thrown out of our seats, we screamed and yelled at the driver for that – poor guy, he had no idea what we were going through. We had to be carried out of the bus into the theatre (literally almost) and the on-lookers were dumbstruck looking at our ensemble. Obviously understanding that we were being ragged, they asked us what we study and from where…. The answer, in unison was “STEPHEN’S”. The irony was that, it wasn’t planned. The movie was a drab bore and I slept through. Again, as per tradition, we were taken to India Gate to have ice creams and we returned by about 3 AM.
Just if you thought that all ends here…you’re absolutely wrong! Now was the time for the ‘Cosmetic Surgery’ – toothpaste, gum, oil, talcum powder, deodorant, pickle, creams etc were all poured and applied generously to our hair (and pubes), and man…does it burn! We took bath in chilly cold water at 4 in the morning and most caught cold. Very few actually attended classes the next day (I was one of the few who did…) and I limped for the next 4 days.
So this was our Hostel Freshers’ – sleazy, messy, outrageous, sometimes even inhuman…. yet fun.
Don’t you think so?

PS: I'd love to give you a few pictures, but would I be allowed to?