The Random Express

There are only two kinds of people in this world: those who have known Angelus, those who shall know Angelus
I was anxiously looking at the ‘bum clock’ on the wall (later when I enquired, I got to know that this highly sophisticated timepiece, which is shaped like a man’s butt, is an import from [...]

He had emerged from the depths of Hell in 1993. Nobody knew from where he had come, but it didn’t take him long to make his presence felt…or rather, his terror felt. Never in the history of any school did so many fear one man; but history was made in Don Bosco School.

In the poetry recitation contest that year, the first boy had chosen Noyes’ The Highwayman, while I was chosen to recite the tale of Lochinvar. During the practice session, both Mondweep and I fumbled again and again, much to the dismay of Mousumi ma’am. “Houston, we have a problem—the word ‘love’ in the poems,” we cried out for help, but all we got was a heap of abuses from our teacher, who also proclaimed her shame at having to teach boys like us who scamper away at the mere mention of ‘love’. But what could we do? We were boys with strict parents at home who never really imagined that their sons would someday have dalliance with members of the opposite sex. And while reciting those poems, we felt the same fear as newlyweds do when they get ready for their first night together (I wonder how the same shy Mondweep scored that brilliant victory with Manaswita almost a decade later). Needless to say, we opted for other poems; and eventually, I opted out of the contest. In the finals, Mondweep made a travesty of Tennyson’s Charge of the Light Brigade by altering the great maestro’s lines to suit his purpose— “Charge for the guns! Don’t waste my time.” Tennyson must have turned in his grave!

Then one fine day, the unthinkable (really?) happened. Sourav Deb locked himself up in the classroom with Koustovi and poured his heart out to her. This moment of truth was witnessed by many of us Peeping Toms, who also hooted when Leofric told his Lady Godiva how much he loved her. Godiva said yes, and our chhotti si love story began on a promising note. The only unhappy soul around was Jafar (I think), for he shared Deb babu’s bench as well as his tiffin and now had to contend with the idea of a souten.