A cupboard full of love … call it what you may, but my dear buddy Anshuman left his legacy behind for all to see and for me to learn from and enjoy in his cupboard when he left Hell. Some people have skeletons in their closets but one had to see it to believe what this dude once had in his closet. Well, if some of you out there are confused as to the pertinence of cupboards and closets in the life of a seemingly simple straightforward guy like anshuman mishra, well, the following words might interest you for all was not what met the eye during his two years at Hell … and about the all important contents of the closet, read on …
From the days of yore when mysterious sounds emanated from within his room that once held an entire crowd of people enthralled and spellbound in the passageway outside, for sheer volume and intensity (and duration) and more so for the audacity of the individuals responsible for the ‘production’ of the sounds in question, that they could be so reckless as to perform the acts that could result in the kind of sounds that we’re talking about, right where one would expect was the last place on earth anyone in their sesnses would want to ‘do’ such things, Anshuman has come a long way indeed but the corridors of hostel 5 still resonate with ghostly moans that serve as a reminder that everything he ever told you about his love life (or the lack of it as he’d try to have you believe) was one big lie.
If one were to ask Anshuman what the closest he’d ever got to a woman was, he’d say with innocent nonchalance – “minus 9 inches”. As you may possibly have guessed from this retort, he doesn’t believe in leaving too much to one’s imagination and he also likes to exaggerate a tad. But his demeanor (read : wandering about the corridors in a perpetual state of undress) could suggest that he was in the possession of something that at least he believed he could be proud of, proud enough might I add, to flaunt howsoever shameless the act was in itself considering that all said and done, this was a men’s hostel.
Did I mention that our dear Anshu was also once the HR of hostel 5? Although it is unanimous that the letter H stands for ‘hostel’, the word R has been the center of controversy for the myriad of things that people have thought that it stood for. Anshuman, for one has done everything in his power to reinforce their beliefs in this regard. Although his general demeanor during a hostel 5 feeding frenzy (bumping frenzy?) would suggest that he did actually enjoy the idea of getting bumped, for he’d pretend to resist but give in anyway after hurling a few choice abuses at the raging mob that held him aloft, he would try everything in his power to evade the ‘foot to ass’ ritual during his own birthday. He once crafted an elaborate ploy which involved strategically leaving campus a few hours before ‘celebrations’ began, on Arjun’s bike and then calling from outside campus about some imaginary accident that he’d met with that miraculously had affected his ability to flex his ankle and consequently his ability to withstand bumps delivered unto his ‘posterior’. But the last time that we’d read ‘Grey’s anatomy’, the ankle and the ‘posterior’ have no connection whatsoever and pain inflicted to any one of these areas is not experienced at the other part. Another story that is closely associated with that evening involved yours truly going completely overboard with a bottle of the ‘Russian spirit’ but that is a completely different story.
His first date is the stuff that comedy movies are made of. Our man and his love interest venture out from their respective hostels at different times to the bus stop and stand at two different corners of the bus stop. He engages some others waiting for the bus in conversation, while she keeps yapping into her cell phone like her life depended on it. When the bus finally arrives, he gets in first and sit in the last row and she sits in the first row after entering last. They both get off at Purania chouraha and then stand around doing absolutely nothing for a few minutes. Then all of a sudden, he hails an auto rickshaw and gets in and she jumps in right after him and then they were gone :D. Of course, the fact that a couple of us from H5 also got off the bus at Purania didn’t help their cause one bit. It was the talk of the town for days to come.
Anshuman was always going to be a good manager because he is a natural ‘delegator’ of work. You should see the guy during the rangoli competition and index. He appears out of nowhere, shouts out orders, accuses two or three people of not doing any work, abuses another couple of hapless facchas, expresses his opinion on how the decoration ought to and ought not to be and disappears just as mysteriously as he appeared. Like I said, he’s a natural and Anshu, you can’t deny any of this buddy, I have it all on tape. He’s always proclaimed that he’s a big rock fan and he’s even gone so far as to putting the fact that ‘he’s a fan of rock music, particularly metal’ in his CV but the fact remains that this couldn’t be farther from the truth. I must admit that he’s been known to play the occasional G ‘n’ R or Judas Priest song in his room but, he’s never been able to name the songs when asked to step out of his room (read: dragged out of his room) and do so. Anshuman Mishra shot to fame during the time when the press was on campus to cover the untimely demise of an alumnus, when he was the voice and the face of IIM L. Minutes after he shot to fame, people were wishing that he would shoot himself in the head ! Who’s ever going to forget the episode of Anshuman Mishra standing on a chair in front of Nescafe imploring the batch to turn up in strength for the media event, in a hurry.
The last thing we ever remember of the dude on campus is the time when he was packing before leaving for good. He left his room for a few minutes with it’s door wide open and ‘unattended’ most importantly. A few of us who were waiting for exactly such an opportunity, rushed into his room and ‘stole’ back all the books that Anshuman had ever ‘borrowed’ from us and made our escape. It’s a miracle that the fact that there were just three piles of books where four had stood just minutes earlier, escaped his attention. I would urge one and all reading this to ask him about a certain room cooler that he carried back home with him :D. Although I thought of including the story associated with the cooler here, my better judgment dictates that I ought to refrain from doing so for the sake of my own well being.
By the time Mr. Mishra was done with his course at hell, he was but a mere shadow of his former self. The pgp19s had christened him ‘hyper’ once upon a time for obvious reasons. Calling him a bundle of energy would have been grossly misrepresenting facts, so much so that pgp20s actually mistook him for a pgp19 when they joined. But a rather unfortunate episode involving a pair of broken spectacles, a few bruised fists and a bruised ego most importantly, ended that phase of Anshuman Mishra’s life and he turned into the serene and composed nut job that we know today.
HAL brother !! Forgive me if I’ve said too much here and inadvertently hurt your sentiments (assuming that you have feelings to begin with). But you know that your deepest darkest secrets are always safe with me … till I keep getting paid good money to keep it that way anyway ;) You’ve always had a kind word for me in my times of peril starting from my rather unfortunate hostel induction to when I was in dire straits with my acads. You’re a go-getter and a hard worker and deserve everything that you’ve achieved this far. During round 2, you were truly an inspiration for me when it came to putting in all nighters and working hard but partying harder. Although this ‘testimonial’ would appear to be laced with sarcasm and slander, this is in reality a testimony to how much I miss you dude and the glorious days that were. My only regret is that it took as long as it did in being composed. But as they say, better late than never and the batches to come must learn about the legend (nut job) that once roamed the corridors of H5. The corridors still resonate with those sounds …
... by the way if anybody’s still wondering what Anshu left me in his closet …he left behind a bottle of Scotch and a pack of condoms (brands are irrelevant here), both of which no longer exist today. Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies ;)