Friday, November 6, 2009

The Chronicles of Roy - The Night at the Platform

Ragging, as I told you was an integral part of hostel life for the first year. And the favourite time for ragging for a ragger used to post dinner hours. When we ragees (the ones being ragged) noticed this pattern we made it a habit to promptly step out of the hostel after having dinner and spend the night at some god forsaken public place like a park, an under construction building or the most favourite place, the railway station. Railway station was a paradise to the absconding ragees like us; there we had food, tea, coffee, cigarettes and a bench to sleep on.
One winter evening we had our dinner and went to the station with our blazers and sweaters. All was going well, nice double egg omelettes, half fried egg sunny side up, nice hot coffee and a satisfying smoke. When all of a sudden a wandering idea that was searching for an apt mind to strike onto finally found an apt mind and it straight away struck the mind of our Roy. He put on his black blazer, tidied himself and announced that he will pose as a ticket checker. We said alright lets watch it. A train waiting for the green signal for last 2 hours was taken as the ground zero for action. Mr. Roy the TC entered and started waking up the passengers inquiring about their tickets at 3 Am in the morning. All was going well and Roy was getting more confident with each waking passenger till he slapped on the butt of a middle aged man snoring on a side lower birth and asked for his ticket. And as we watched him doing this through the window we instantly knew it was a wrong move. As it is always a wrong move to exchange butt slapping pleasantries with the very person one is posing as. Yes, Roy had woken up the real Ticket Checker. The TC, agitated at this, opted to play it by the books, he asked for the Poser’s ID card and Roy very confidently waved the college ID card. We, watching through the window sensed a chill running down our spines. One thing followed another and 11 of us were sitting on the floor of the railway police room. Every 5 minute a constable would come and curse us with a heart pouring out magma. This continued for few hours when suddenly we found ourselves alone and noticed an unguarded door, we sprang up and ran towards it like a buffalo making for a water hole, we ran and ran and ran. And as an aftermath of this night that black blazer was taken in custody and cut into pieces.

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