Room no. 88, Third floor, Hostel no. 3, May 2003, Jaipur.
I opened the blue door.
The room was divided into three parts, inverted T-shaped, each part a standardized section containing same set of non-living entities .Each section had a heavy looking steel chair and table, a low-lying steel bed, a creaky looking fan perpendicular to the bed and a steel almirah. I missed the presence of any wood in the room .Later I realized there was logic behind it. There was a window in each section that would expose its owner to the pristine surroundings outside. At least I initially thought, that view outside would be pristine. The walls of the room were depicting the colorful history, imaginations and fantasies of past inhabitants of this room .The greasy walls were adorned with different poses of beauty, movie posters and mathematical formulas The dimly lit room added to the experience of standing in some Khajuraho cave. The sections on left and and the other one in line with my eyes , were vacant .There was a rhythmic orchestra playing in the room by the mixing of two sound waves , infectious sound emitted by one of the fans, running at snail's pace and other ,crescendo of some Hindi song coming from the right section.
I followed the voice. Finally I saw a living entity in the room. He was sitting on the chair looking out of the window, with earplugs plugged in his ears. I could only see his side pose, that too partial. He was in a typical Bollywood pose , day dreaming and humming old Hindi song "main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya , har fikra ko dhuan mein udata chala gaya ". he hadn't noticed his new room partner entering the room. There was something about his voice. My ears fell in love with it, instantaneous, love at first "sound”. The voice had something magical about it. It was so different, and yet so agreeable. It had the naughtiness of a young girl yet so mature .It had the freshness comparable to first cup of tea in the morning yet, weariness of a long tumultuous journey. It clearly was pampered by its owners’ love and affection for her. It had that infectiousness that could make you intentionally stop using all other senses, other than the sense of hearing. It could automatically make you close your eyes and just listen to it. And I was already under the magical spell of his voice.
I could have stayed there for few hours had I was not disturbed by a push from behind. I almost fell. As I looked back, a short guy was jumping like a monkey and laughing out loud as if he was seeing some blockbuster Comedy movie. He had derived some unique pleasure by this action of his and was particularly very happy .I was infuriated , specially his stupidity has led to me dropping the box of laddoos , given to me by my mother few hours back with her watery eyes . I knew that was my last dose of home -cooked meal before I would be thrown open to the "experimental” and "exotic” dishes prepared by the old guns in the mess. I was infuriated and blood red with anger. I was about to thrash him suddenly he noticed the dropped box as I turned towards him. He bent down immediately; the super fast train of his laughter suddenly came to a halt. He cleaned all the ladoos and carefully put all the ladoos back in the box. He then moved towards his section, avoiding my angry eyes, that was just straight on entering the door. I was surprised and puzzled as to what was brewing in his mind. I saw that he had offered the ladoo box to small Lord Ganesha statue in his almirah and was humming something in close whisper. This act of his particularly touched me, and I became as cool as cucumber. I was smiling as the short fellow was completely immersed in pleasing the god to atone for the mistake he has committed.
Suddenly a voice greeted me from back:" Hi ". I instantaneously recognized that voice. I looked back.
He looked short, extremely short, and shorter than the other short fellow who was now looking like a proper pujari (priest) moving the ladoo box in a circular motion in front of Lord Ganesha. .His body frame was broad but quite thin. The most striking feature was an arc shaped scar on his right forehead. He had a dark brownish complexion .His eye sockets were really deep like a long road and his eyes, just coming out, just visible on that long road. His long face, receding hairline, acnes on his face here and there, all gave a impression that he was slightly elder in age. At least, it looked to me. He was very particular about his hairstyle; his hand repeatedly caressing his gelled hair to adjust and align the mid parting was a testimony for that. He was wearing a blue color check half sleeves shirt and a khaki short, which reminded me of my childhood school days. He was smiling at me as I was scanning him from top to bottom and imprinting various impressions about him in my mind. Suddenly he shook my shoulder, “Hello? where are you lost, dost (friend)? "
I replied "Hi, I am really sorry, I was just thinking about something”.
He interrupted " No problem, Arsaan, I am your roommate”
I Introduced myself. “Hi, I am Tarun”
"You are from which state "? he asked.
In engineering colleges, especially NITs it was a common practice to introduce your state first as the ragging regimen and intensity was decided according to your home state. Seniors from same state will be ragging you. All this I have known earlier only from my old school senior who was currently in second year, computer science engineering.
I replied “I am from Gurgaon “.
"Oh so you are from Delhi " he said in an assertive tone.
"No, its Haryana, I am from Haryana. Not at all Delhi." I absolutely hated it when somebody considered me to be from Delhi .It was a common problem always when I was introducing myself.
He chuckled “oh, so u are a Haryanvi. Are you a Jat?”
Here was the second most common problem faced triggered by my tall, broad and heavy body frame.
"No, I am not. I am "baniya, You are from which state?""
"Punjab” he said with puffed chest.
In between our holy priest has completed his prayers.
Arsaan introduced me to him. "He is alok, from Bihar”.
"I am really sorry, I dint want to drop your laddoos " said Alok in his typical Bihari accent.
Alok was still frightened. I calmed him down “Don’t worry alok, nothing to worry about. you realized your mistake, that’s more than enough”. We chatted for a while introducing each other. Finally as a sign of truce, he offered me a ladoo; all three of us ate them together.
And thus started my “other side of life ".
Over next few days, all three of us bonded really well. We will start our day together, have breakfast in mess, go to college, return back to mess for lunch, again go back to college for afternoon classes, evening tea, dinner & chatting on the rooftop till wee hours in the night. It was almost mechanized daily schedule with minimum deviations. Alok with his bihari accent, crude sense of humor, mischievous pranks brought hilarity to our room. Arsaan with his dreams, aspirations, and passion for singing, agreeable nature brought passion to the room. And I ....I perhaps brought normalcy and sanity to the room.
Gradually I and Arsaan became very good friends. He was a shy guy, but once he opened up with me, we shared everything with each other, our first crushes, our family backgrounds, school days, dreams, frustrations due to busy college schedule, circumstances that landed us in engineering college, almost everything. It was very comforting to talk with him always. He was always very keen and silent listener contrary to my abnormal readiness to blurt out whatever was there in my mind. He could read my mind before me uttering a single word. Quite a few times, Arsaan expressed his desire to pursue his interests in singing more seriously, but then cited "some critical obligations" as the extinguisher to his burning desire. I tried to probe further about this, but he never opened up.
We had completed three weeks in college. The "very different" three weeks. "Dog-rice" , extra - diluted daal, chapattis that resembled the rocky terrain of some central Indian plateau , treasure hunt to find a bathroom with running water for daily ablutions , innumerable other living entities in my room that I later discovered , everything was very "challenging" , to put it in a euphemistic way . But I think the long evening chats with Arsaan provided that something extra to stand tall against these westerly winds. It was the cool splash of his Buddha like charm that would rejuvenate me.
Gradually it came to my notice, that music was life for Arsaan. It was not a hobby or some leisure activity as it was for most of us. He recited the songs he had recorded and composed himself. He used to write too. He shared some of his writings with me. They were intense and meaningful. We also recorded his favorite song " Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya ..." in his voice on a cassette. And believe me, it was better than original!!
Days passed and finally it was time for midterm exams. And there was a change in atmosphere. Chats at GMP (general Meeting point) were replaced by desperate last minute attempts to cram the formulas and flush it out in exam hall. Me, Arsaan and Alok decided to prepare together. Alok with his naturally gifted sense of humor would crack jokes on the absurdity of Indian educational system and make fun of it. He knew that he knew nothing but had a rock solid confidence that he would pass the exams. But I could sense a tension on Arsaan’s face. He would be lost thinking about something. Or will start breathing heavily, with thick drops of sweat pouring down his face. He was lost!!! This continued for a few days. I tried to calm him down and probe about any issues during our evening Chai sessions, but he said he was ok.
Suddenly I got to know from Alok the next day that Arsaan has left for his home, Abhor in Punjab. I was perplexed on his sudden departure. I possibly had sensed the urgency that lead to his departure. I was actually relieved that a brief stint at home would allay all the fears of Arsaan that I could so clearly notice on his face for past few days. He returned quite late.....after the exams. He had missed the exams!!! I felt that there was something serious.
Arsaan's behavior after his return from home changed significantly. He started acting like the hero of some tragic movie, silent and stone-faced. He would miss the much -awaited life saving chai sessions in evening. His sleeping patterns changed drastically resembling that of mine which was a cause for serious concern!!! I was famous in entire college for spending far too much time on bed than what was required and Arsaan was exact opposite. But the most striking thing was he stopped singing!!! Now that sure posed a lot of questions in my mind .But somehow I was uncomfortable asking him the reason for the same .With Arsaan's growing seclusivity from rest of us , I too started spending time with so called my "new friends".
Our hostel was "just" a 20 minutes’ walk from the college. Normally we would stroll back to hostel for a quick lunch after first session and then have a chai or sutta after lunch and head back to college to complete the practicals in the second half.
That day, I had just returned from my first session of the day for lunch in hostel. I saw Arsaan sitting alone on a table in one corner of the mess. He was sitting with his plate full and he looking empty. I went and said hello to him. He dints respond. Perhaps he was too occupied. I tried to bring him back to this world by keeping my hand on his back. He was startled to see me standing and gave me a very "sad smile ". I could notice a wave of turbulence playing havoc in his mind. I asked him if he will go to college. he said he will prefer to relax at room.
That evening, I asked Arsaan to start our usual evening session. But to my surprise he replied and gave the pretense of not feeling well as the reason for not joining. But somewhere I knew that was not the reason. Perhaps we have bonded so well that we could catch each other lying!! I went inside the room and asked him if there was any problem at his home or if his parents had any issue. According to him everything was okay.
I still remember that morning; I as usual was getting ready to go back to college. But I saw Arsaan still sleeping with his face covered by a chadar. He said he was not feeling like coming to college. I left without probing further considering that as the genuine reason. I returned in afternoon. he met me at the lunch table. we completed lunch. Suddenly as soon as we got out he hugged me. And hugged me tightly. But I thought it to be one of the innumerous stereotype emotional outbursts of friendships that usually happen during our college days.
That was another routine day in the making. I had completed all the practicals of the afternoon session. College was too absorbing in the first semester. I with my, embryonic bunch of friends were returning back to hostel. Alok as usual was at his very best entertaining everybody with his "Lallo-ish” tone and mannerisms. He had gained some quick popularity in the college and a pet name "Babua ".Suddenly I remembered I had to return a book borrowed from library as today was the last date. I separated from the group and went towards the library. Meanwhile alok and rest of the group moved towards the hostel.
I was returning back to the hostel. As soon as I reached our hostel gate, I saw Alok shivering badly, being held by Kevin (our Neighbor). to be very frank, I thought this to be one of his usual pranks. I reached to Alok and asked "Kyun be kya nautanki hai ab ye nayee" (Dude, what’s this new prank of yours?) ...He was silent, with sweat pouring down his entire face and eyes red with fear. He was trembling like a 80 year old. I looked at Kevin to find out the reason for this state of Alok. He bowed down his head. Suddenly Alok hugged me and started crying heavily and blurted out “tarun bhai ....Arsaan is dead "!!!!!!! ....And I was NUMB!! Absolutely numb.
I came to know that Arsaan was found hanging in our room. Suddenly all the times spent with Arsaan came in front of my eyes and I was lost. I couldn’t muster up the courage to go to our room and see him hanging. I had seen Alok's state and now I knew the reason for it as he has seen him hanging with his eyes. What can be more shocking than that!!! I informed our warden about the incident. Suddenly our hostel was flooded with visitors from rest of the hostels, college lecturers and police. Our director came too. They (police) insisted on me going to top floor and recognizing Arsaan. I totally refused to do that. But I was told by my director to do the same as it could lead to some very serious legal implications for both me and College.
I went to the third floor and opened the door with trembling hands. And I saw Arsaan hanging from that same creaking fan, with his tongue out, eyes closed and blood trickling down his cheeks. It was a gory sight, something which I have not been able to forget till date. I quickly moved out of the room and started crying. Soon I became emotionless. I dint knew how to react to this!!! Police questioned me about Arsaan, his life, his problems his enemies etc. I replied with a stonehearted face. Then they asked me the same question that I was asking myself for quite some time “Why did he do this?????""....I had no answers...soon it was all dark and I was too unstable to stay in the same room. I and Alok changed our hostel and room.
I went inside our new room. The third section of inverted T room was empty .I Dimmed the light and closed my eyes... I could see Arsaan's face again and again, our Chai sesions, times spent with him, our bonding, everything .I was wondering how can Arsaan take such a step ...he was too brave ...perhaps not ... he wasn't brave enough to face the music of life!!!!!!!!!!!
Unsettled and desperate to divert my mind's attention, I asked Alok lying on opposite bed to play some music. He pressed the button.
Suddenly I heard Arsaan's voice!
"Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya ...har fikra ko dhuein mein udata chala gaya" .
It was Arsaan's recorded cassette .
My eyes were flooding ...and how I wished my dear friend , if you could have followed the lyrics of your favorite song !!!!
(Dedicated to my roomie , my dear friend and a great singer… Armaan )
