It was during final year of my engineering. I was getting a bit of headache for a few days so I decided to goto the campus hospital which was around 2.5 KMs from my hostel. I borrowed a bicycle from a friend of mine.
As I went out of the hospital to take my medicines, I saw something I could not believe. A very good friend of mine, X was entering the campus on a cycle rickshaw. So what? But surprising part was that he had a female company with him on the rickshaw. The smiles on their faces were completely drenched in romtaicism.
“Damn!!! He is coming back from a date.” I thought.
Now a bit of history behind our college days – Our College had a male female ratio of approximately 1400:50. So getting a girl was more difficult than getting a window seat in an 8:36 Monday morning Borivali-Churchgate local. Only privileged ones could get some share of female company during entire four years. When I say some share – I mean spending cumulative time of 24 hours with a female alone in approximately over 35,000 hours we spent during entire 4 years in college. Girl friend was a super luxury. To get a girl friend, on an average you had to beat 27 other guys.
So people targeted women’s college. But there was stiff competition too. The kind of crowd some of the other colleges in the university had, you would just rather want to spend your 4 years in a single piece than try for a girl. Afterall, the university my college was part of, has been a mass human resource supplier to UP politics for many decades. Romeos were often beaten and beaten badly by the very same guys from other college who were beaten by Romeo in their race to Juliet.
So company of a female was a scarce commodity for us and it turned us into envious sadists who, if cannot go up the ladder themselves, try to pull down others by killing their morale. The Romoes were often happier if people like us were away from them.
Obviously, if you are dating a girl, you would not like to listen to the stories of how your prospect has gone all flat for a particular senior and how inseperable they were during last college festival. You wouldn’t like to hear the stories of how she is keeping you busy with project work so that she can go around with another batchmate. You would certainly not like to get your legs pulled in a crowded mess where seemingly non interested population can also come up with a painfully ugly fact about your target. You would surely not like you girl to be explained in full details. During college days, some of the legs are pulled so far apart thet they never join.
So when people go on date, they hope it remains secret. I hope I have conveyed the message. If I haven’t, forget it. You must have studied in the kind of colleges shown in Karan Johar movies and you would never get the message.
So as I saw my friend, I turned my cycle back and started following his rickshaw. They got down in front of women’s college, did bye-bye to each other, shook hands, looked into each other’s eyes for some more time and parted their ways. I followed my friend who was heading towards bike stand. I put my hand on his left shoulder.
“X” I said
“Arey, What are you doing here” as he truned, his face went totally pale.
“This is something I should be asking you”
“Cant you see? I am taking my bike”
“Yeah I can see that. But my question is why you are not already on your bike. Why to travel on rickshaw when you have a bike” I winked.
“Oh. So you saw me?”
“Well.... But why didn’t you take her on the bike” I asked and immediately realized I had hurt him big time. He had forced his father to buy him a bike becaue he fell for the old theory – Girls are crazy for bikes. So if you want a girl, get a bike. Three years of his bike ownership couldn’t get him a date. In fact his bike was used by others to roam around with their girl friends.
“Well, she is not very comfortable on bike. She prefers rickshaw. Very sweet and homely she is.”
“Damn. Finally when the guy gets a chance to meet the objective of his investment in the name of Kawasaki Champion, his girl turns out to be bike-o-phobic” I thought.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Nothing, I just came to the hospital to take medicines for my headache. Come, let’s go back.”
So, we decided to go back to the hostel. He started his bike. I rode on my bicycle. I held his shoulder so that I can move with the bike without peddaling. I have always been a freerider.
I was just not able to hide my excitement on this opportunity to spread this story with loads of salt and pepper. Level of excitement was so high that my stomach was on the verge of exploding. I kept pulling his leg and scaring him on how it is going to be inside the hostel.
“Somehow, is it possible that you forget whatever you have just seen?” he said.
Dhadaaaaam!!!!!!! As we crossed the speedbreaker, I lost my balance and fell. I lifted my face and realized almost all of it was bleeding.
Next thing I remember is that I was shouting “I can’t remember any thing” and a doctor stitching my chin. Whatever had happened in past one hour or so, I felt if it was happening in my dream and I had just woken up. It was such a strange feeling.
Few seconds later, I realized the turn of events. My friend’s wish that I should forget past one hour was granted. As I fell down, I lost my memory. It only came back in the hospital when my chin was almost stitched by the doctor. He had given me some 10 odd stitches.
X told me that I had been shouting only one thing ever since I fell down – “I can’t remember anything.” He, along with 2 other guys took me to the hospital.
I still complained about my loss of memory. So X took me to another doctor who told us that it was an attack of amnesia. If things didn't improve in next few hours, I was needed to get admitted for at least 24 hours. Total expenditure was estimated to be approximately thousand rupees. I immediately recalled my last month’s mess bill – it was INR 851.50/-.
“I am fine. Let’s go” I said.
I actually got my memory just after we came out of hospital. Just that I couldn't remember what happened during the period when I fell and when I realized my chin was being stitched. I could never recall that part and it still remains lost half an hour of my life.
Apart from that lost half an hour, I was not able to recall one thing clearly – why was X and his sweetheart were on rickshaw and not his bike. He promised to explain it to me when we reach the hostel.
Later X’s legs were pulled really wide apart for almost one week. Added twist in the tale was an allegation – that X bribed the doctor to make me lose my memory. He got some peace when everyone was bored of this story. X also did not meet her after that. A month later, the very same girl was witnessed roaming around with some other guy on a bike. Onlookers claimed it was X’s bike which actually turned out to be true. X’s turn started again.
I still have stitch-marks on my chin.
Few months later I had my revenge. We were doing bhangra steps under the effects of divine liquids. I jokingly pushed X and he fell on right hand. His right hand remained covered by plaster of paris for next two months.