Chapter 5 –The Seniors – and life in the Dorm.

A couple of weeks later, when we got back to our dorms after class, we met a few new faces. The seniors had returned from their summer training. The first year classes commence in early June and the seniors come back to campus towards the second half of the month.

One of the first things the seniors did after their arrival was to call a dorm GBM – a General Body Meeting. After the introductions, the seniors set the fraternity rules. They impressed upon our impressionable young minds, the place of pride that the dorm held in the scheme of things. Indranil Mukherjee (Indro), said solemnly, “From now on, in life, the Dorm comes first, then your family and then your job.” It was anathema to even think that another dorm was better than one’s own. “Other dorms can be referred to as ‘dorms’ ” he advised us, “but one’s own dorm was always ‘The Dorm’ – with a capital D”. People who requested a change of rooms to another dorm in the second year were looked upon as traitors.

The seniors introduced us to few dorm traditions in rapid succession. On a sunny Friday afternoon a couple of days later, they got us juniors to assemble below the Dorm for a group picture. Sasi, another senior, brought out his camera and was telling us where we should stand – while Indro played ringmaster – directing the event. Renny, a third senior – a guy with a permanent impish smile plastered on his face – ran upstairs to get his camera too.

Sasi was spending far too much time in trying to ensure that the juniors were in the perfect position. We were all beginning to think that he was taking his job a little too seriously. Actually this was rather true. He WAS trying to get us in the perfect position. Because unknown to us, while were out there taking orders from Sasi and Indro, Renny and the other seniors were busy filling up about a dozen huge buckets with cold water. When Sasi finally shouted, “Say Cheese… three… two… one… NOW!” - it wasn’t for our benefit. It was to time the dunk. The picture was taken at the precise moment when a quarter of a ton of water hit us. The ease with which we were suckered is incredible. There was roar of laughter and we looked up to see the other seniors grinning at us from the balcony of the Dorm.

Looking up was a mistake. They were waiting for us to do precisely that. We noticed another flashbulb firing in our peripheral vision. The second picture caught on film a bunch of idiots staring up at another deluge of water coming at them. Straight in the face. Twice in a row! Damn! We had to get our revenge. We would, but not until much much later.

Later that evening – they told us they were taking us out for the welcome treat to a snack-and-ice-cream parlour called Chills Thrills and Frills – CTF for short. The reason for this show of affection and generosity became clear to me later. They were going to get us again and I was the target of this one. After we had chatted through dinner, the seniors were about to order ice-cream when Ujjwal Deb (Bappa) announced that we would also be electing the new Dorm Representative to take over the mantle from Sasi. Sudhakar and Sapnakanta nominated each other and were seconded by myself and Neeraj.
Somewhere in the commotion, I was nominated and seconded. “It is a three way race,” Indro announced, “for the coveted position of Dorm-Rep of the most respected Dorm on campus.” The twelve of use were given small pieces of paper on which we were expected to write the name of the person we voted for. Ujjwal collected the pieces of paper and put them into a bowl. Vijay Chauhan would be in charge of the counting. Vijay was a senior with a grand demeanour. He was tall Rajput with deep commanding voice.

Vijay pulled the first vote out of the glass bowl and unfolded it. “Apte” he announced. Then another “Apte again”. The third and the fourth were also votes for me. “I must be popular.” I remember thinking. The next two votes went to Sudhakar and Sapnakant. Then Vijay pulled out the next one and unfolded it. “Apte” he read. And the next one was “Apte again” I had already won. Six votes out of twelve. They did not need to open the remaining votes.

Indro and Sasi picked me up on their shoulders and there were cheers of Hip-Hip-Hurray.
Ujjwal then said that Dorm tradition dictated that I would be required to eat an entire brick of ice-cream – a full pack. I would be allowed to choose the flavour though. I figured Vanilla would be the easiest to manage and Vanilla it was.

I started out in earnest, downing the ice-cream with Indro and Sasi egging me on. They told me that no Dorm-Rep in the history of D-3 had ever managed to finish the entire brick. I was so charged and so overcome with stupid joy, that I did not bother to think how they would know this to be true. Was there a log somewhere in the dorm where this worthless statistic was maintained? Between shouts of “Come on – Apte” I was swallowing the cold ice-cream in large gulps. My plan was to down it before my stomach could sense it was full. The last couple of bites were nearly impossible. But I managed.

“Yes!” exclaimed Indro and slammed his fist on the table. “I had bet you could do it.” Sasi and Renny and Vijay pulled out their wallets and handed Indro a tenner each – all shaking their heads. “Speech. Speech.” Encouraged the seniors and made me stand up on my chair. This was getting a little embarrassing. But the frat rules dictated that I do not douse the enthusiasm. Ujjwal pulled out a small cassette recorder and held it before my face like a mock microphone. I tried to make up a solemn speech. But try speaking after you have been through a liter of frozen ice cream. Most of what I tried to say came out something like “Tank oo. I am honouled to take this lisponsib… lisponsility . Oooble the yeals, the Dolm Thlee ……” I could not continue. The other people in the restaurant were staring at me with a bemused look on their face. My dorm-mates were roaring with laughter - holding their stomachs – rolling on the floor. I blinked. I suddenly realized how stupid I looked. I stepped off the chair and sat down.

Indro took charge of the situation. He raised his glass of Coke and announced to all and sundry in the restaurant. “Ladies and Gentlemen. We have witnessed history.” He was struggling to maintain a serious tone of voice while people in the restaurant were giggling. “Never befole has a person finished an entire blick of ice-cleam and lived to make a speech. This will go down in the annals of IIM-A.” I then got my first sample Alok’s lethal choice of words, “It will go down Apte’s annals too,” he announced as he raised his glass. The place errupted with laughter while I tried to hide my face in the napkin.

We drove back to the Dorm. The worst was yet to come. When I woke up the next morning, I found the glass bowl outside my door. The pieces of paper with the votes were still inside. I picked them up and unfolded them. I had not been the winner at all. And the whole Dorm-Rep election thing was a setup. A Sham. I had been had. I groaned and looked up to find the seniors grinning at me. They all clapped and laughed and slapped me on the back. Ujjwal then handed me the cassette recorder so I could play back the tape and hear what a complete ass I had made of myself. It was all in good humour.

Another dorm tradition in most dorms was the namakaran sanskar – the naming ceremony during which the seniors accorded the juniors new names. In most cases there was a rather convoluted logic (if any) to the manner in which names were chosen. These names, were by and large, quite weird and inexplicable for a commoner.

Imagine bright young individuals being called Kaali, Maarlee, Bogs, Cramps, Bhangi, Paro, Chumma, Bugs, Hypo, Makoda, Bogie, Daku, Nifty, Frustu, Goriya, Foxy... Quite amazingly these (and many many more) names stuck.

Each dorm had its own peculiarities. Prashant Gupta in dorm 17 became Phoney because he was always the first to pick up the phone when it rang in the dorm. We did not have a phone in each room then – unlike now. Some dorms had a preference for a category of words – for example dorm 7 used names of animals and birds (ahem) like Cock and Pussy for its inhabitants. Dorm 2 had an interesting solution to the problem of coming up with new dorm names every year. The person who occupied the room closest to dorm 1 on the first floor became Dedh-Singh (One-and-a-half Singh) The person occupying the room directly above Dedh-Singh on the second floor became Dhai Singh (Two-and-a-half) and the poor guy in the basement room below Dedh Singh became Aadha-Singh (Half Singh).

Some stories on how dorm names came to be were downright hilarious. Legend has it that some years before our arrival there was a guy called Bipin Rathore in dorm 6 who, to his misfortune was given the email id BRA@pgplan.iimahd.ernet.in
Even before the poor guy spoke to the system administrators to get this changed, the news leaked out and he became “bra” on campus. He sighed and probably resigned himself to be called “the bra” for the two years on campus – and perhaps forever by his batch-mates. However imagine the plight of the poor guy who occupied the room directly below the bra. For the sole reason that he happened to be occupying the room right below the bra – the poor guy was promptly christened “Panty”. This is not all. To make matters worse, dorm-mates in the dorm find this combination so funny, that they ensure that the names remain. Every year – the poor souls chosen by the warden to occupy those two rooms are stuck with Bra and Panty for dorm names. Some years hence – perhaps nobody will even remember why this is so. There might be a management lesson hidden in here – “It has always been this way.”

Some dorm names are chosen by seniors to be an anti-thesis of the character of the recipient. Polished pseude guys from places like St. Stephen’s Delhi and La-Martz Calcutta would invariably end up with rather crude and unflattering names such as “chaddi” or “langot”. Yet other dorms trapped the juniors into choosing a dorm name for themselves and then warping it. Fortunately in The Dorm, we were spared this humiliation as Indro declared in the GBM that The Dorm was above all these frivolities and there would be no dorm-names in The Dorm. However our relief was short lived. I soon became “shapte” on campus (my login id was 7shapte), Neeraj soon became the GoAT (God of All Things) and R.D. Sudhakar became RDX. But these were definitely preferable to bra and panty. I have often imagined what the parents thought when they called their son on campus and the guy who answered the phone yelled out stuff like, “Pan-teeee– Tera phone!” at the top of their lungs. Some parents, no doubt started to harbour misgivings about their ward’s sanity, or cross-dressing tendencies – or perhaps both.

As the weeks passed, the work-load skyrocketed. After the last class for the day ended at 1:00 pm, we used to head for the mess and get some lunch. Then most of us walked back to our rooms or to the library to start reading for the next day. The readings easily took up three or four hours and then we still had to start grappling with the cases. However, at about 5 pm we took a break - Most of us headed back to the mess for tea or coffee. This was followed by a game of Frisball on the LKP lawns and on the D18 lawns. (The guys from D12 launched a major campaign in our second year to re-christen this area the D12 lawns; but this ended in failure).

Frisball was played with a Frisbee but the game was a mix of the rules of football (soccer) and basketball. The objective was to get the Frisbee tossed through the goal posts of the opposing team as in soccer. And a-la basketball, running with the Frisbee was not permitted. One leg had to remain pegged to the ground while you held the Frisbee. The number of players per team was flexible – dictated by the number who turned up to play and the size of the field available. Others played Badminton on one of the 6 courts located at multiple places on campus. Yet others preferred Tennis or Basketball on the courts behind the Comp-C. After an hour or two of play, and dinner between 7 and 9 pm, we were back at work.

Most of the cases required us to work on a computer. The Computer Center (Comp-C) was open twenty-four hours a day and was populated by students all through the night. It was not unusual to be walking back to the dorm room at three in the morning after working in the Comp-C for 8 hours straight after dinner. What was perhaps unusual, although we did not even notice it at the time, was that while we were walking back to our rooms, other students were heading towards the Comp-C at three in the morning. These people were planning on working through what remained of the day and arrive straight to class at nine am without sleeping. I often wondered if these guys remembered to brush their teeth.

On nights when we were studying in the dorms, it was perfectly normal to see lights burning in almost all the rooms at three or four in the morning. There were times when one of the dorm mates would decide he had had enough of studying and would come out of the room and loudly announce a game of cricket. A bat and a ball would materialize seemingly out of nowhere. Most of the others would pour out of their rooms in an instant and the game would begin. The cricket was played in the Dorm – with the usual quirky rules of galli cricket – a ball sent flying full toss out of the huge round windows of the Dorm meant Out; a ball hit full-toss above the door frames was a Six; it was also a Six if the fielder was touching a wall when he ‘caught’ a batsman; the boundary was delineated by the external wall of the Dorm on the North and the East Side and by the closed doors or the rooms on the South and East side. If one of the rooms was open then the boundary was the far wall of the room.

After this game – which could be anything between four and five in the morning, we would walk to the Night Retreat – a privately run café above the mess. The contractor there served Tea and Coffee apart from Dosas and Noodles.

On good days, we could catch some sleep for a couple of hours between six and eight in the morning. At eight, the alarm clocks went off and we trooped to the washrooms for our SSSB and then to breakfast and then back to class – to get embarrassed all over again by the profs.