Light that came late

As I reflect on the past, the days of fun, I understand why I see a vision that I never saw earlier..

Sometime in first year of college, on one fine Friday morning I unusually woke up early. Coimbatore was a cool place. The fog would stay well until the sun shined really bright. I felt really hungry and decided to go for breakfast right away. I looked for company. Two of the guys were slumbering under the quilt and the other one was usually never to be found. Not wanting any swearing from waking them up, I went alone, rambling down the stairs to the old mess building (hostel dining hall). I could see a white haze as I step out the entrance to the Old block. I felt a cool breeze pass, till then the early morning cold weather had never been a trouble to us late comers. Only the attendance committee and Alexis were. But this day was different. I braved it for the task at hand. Through the window I could see Kannan hobbling out a big food vessel which is normally used to contain coconut chutney and placing it on the table outside the kitchen. The aroma made my plate washing process faster. I go in and there were only few people, happy to have been early, but I did not want to waste time talking to anyone now. I headed straight to the kitchen table. I never had the least idea of what was in store for me.... until, that dreaded moment.... I lifted off the big lid covering the main food vessel.

It was Friday. Little did i remember that on those dreadful days the menu was Kichadi. Even the semester results were not such a blow. In a moment I had a whirl of thoughts pass by.... home.., nostalgia.. and even ideas of preparing for AIEEE again. I was never picky with food, but the Upma Kichadi combination was too much for anyone. It was then I realized that there was a reason the mess was deserted, and was going to be so till noon.

My emotions were running strong, in a moment of pain, disappointment and hunger, I began to miss home. In a remarkable instant of life, I took a resolve to be strong, to face whatever comes by (even the Kichadi). To have the grit of a fighter. To be Resilient. To be an ASURAN.

I looked for an ideological companion to put this new resolve in practice. Enter Bruce, the man, the machine, who can inspire dead spirits to life. Going by his looks no one would believe his capabilities. Especially his unparalleled appetite. Together we re-discovered this art of 'driven-eating' where the spirit of the act was above the act itself and the unimportant aspects such as taste, choice, or sometimes even edibleness.

One of the most hated mess recipes of those days, the oothappam would have a width of a few centimeters with the dough in different physical states at each layer. It took a huge will power to finish eating even one. A common sight was to see the disciplined Rep trying to finish his first one for more than an hour and when it gets late he just would leave to class having managed to finish just half of one. Very few have ever gone more than two. But for Bruce and I, this was was a testament to our faith and we would be forced to stop eating as we finish off our 7th, if only we had more time.

Soon we sketched the rules and principles for the club called Asoorar sangam. The name was a testimony to the animal-wrath that the members need. (Asurars were mighty mythological characters who were power seeking and materialistic). It was time to gain strength in the "sangam". We had our next member from the south west, Theni, a true practitioner of the faith. And then we started gaining traction and our member base was expanding. Only the hardened souls were able to survive the pace and performance. We were popular in mess for squandering applam from poor souls like master and stealing vadai and eggs from anyone passing by. Sometimes there were challenges to the credibility of the members. This would be decided by an open challenge. One which I remember was Master questioning Bruce's worthiness to be a member (and a founding one at it). The verbal imbroglio ended us up in the mess kitchen. The big hard idly on menu that night was not to deter our brave hearts. In the end of the dual, which put many an onlooker into disbelief, master ate 15, and bruce proved a point to him managing 16.. wait.. there was Theni witnessing the fight... while he was finishing up his 21st. The news spread far and wide and people began recognizing us everywhere. Our aura in the mess started making even the most-hated mess meals look good, for the hunger and spirit were always greater. 

There were many additions to this historic clan as time went by. After most of Mechatronics we had additions from other departments. People who had been already practicing this faith without giving it a name, joined us. It was fantastic. We were famous wherever we went, canteen, dhaba, PK mess and akka mess. Ordinary hungry folks would avoid sitting with us to dine, for such was the fear and respect (ok ok respect is euphemistic). But those were days of glory. Or so did I think?

to be continued..

In the next part, I would tell you what I had intended to say by from this reminiscence...