The Background:
It was Summer of 99. Bunch of Jokers living their life loud on and around the ground of Gandhighat. Gandhighat was a heavenly place.The ashes of Mahatma Gandhi were kept under heavy concrete block there. I am not sure whether cricket was that famous when Gandhiji was alive. But his soul definitely enjoyed our cricketing skills to his hearts content.
Playing serious cricket from 6 to 10, Addabaji (Bengali form of recreation) on the rock till noon, afternoon sessions of Twenty Nine, a famous game of cards over spicy and delightful snacks and tea followed by an exciting night life on the shore of Howrah river.Lunch and dinner at home was kind of wastage of time. This was pretty much a routine for 3 months of our exam break.
We were totally indulged in applying tricks of leg spin, off spin, yorker and crazy fights over King of Heart and Queen of Club. But as you know, 18th year of life hates routine, we're looking for some adventure. Misadventure to be more precise.
The Beginning:
One fine morning we were inspecting the pitch of Gandhighat before the match.We observed some unusual movement in the opposite residential complex. It was Government quarters for top officials We saw some active police man there. Some loaded trucks with tents , chairs and tables. We got curious and approached a Home Guard. He informed it was wedding at High Court's Judge house. His daughter was getting married that evening. We did not find any reason to be joyous. We were not invited. We started our T 10 matches. We kept it that way because most of the players got out within 6th or 7th over. But chasing or defending low score matches were equally exciting. We completed our daily course of play and entered into the adda session. We were just planning the effective way to kill the rest of the day. Suddenly our dear friend Mr. Paul popped up an innocent and simple question.
Paul: Is anyone interested for tonight's party at Judge's house?
We: Do you have the invitation?
Paul: No. But does that matters?
We: Are you mad!! Don't you see the guards over there. They can kick your butt out.
Paul: They don't have the courage to do that. I know them.
The guards were from Central Reserve Force and known to be quite effective against anti socials and moderately armed with automatic rifles. And above all it was Judge's house. I don't know where from Paul collected the news of guards' incapability but that definitely generated some enthusiasm among us. We took a more analytical view of the situation.
Me: We can go there but lots of big honchos would be there. It could be dangerous.
Paul: How does that matter. We are big guys too.
Me: What if someone get hold of us and report it to police or at least to our parents.
Paul: My father is out of town and what kind of coward guys you are. Don't forget we are NSVians.
We all belonged to a school called NSV and never ever missed a chance to use its name wherever possible. Our school was really that great. But I can't remember any single lesson taught in school that actually encouraged us to crash in to a Big Fat Bengali Wedding. But Paul's energy was so great, we all started thinking about the unthinkable. Roy suggested it was not going to be an easy task and needed a proper plan to execute.
Roy: Let's move to Biswas's house to plan the evening. The guards are too near by. They can smell our intention.
Bullet Proof Planning:
We all agreed and went to Biswas's house. We focused on a lengthy discussion and drafting a plan. Suddenly Biswas's father appeared and he immediately sensed something is cooking. He asked what it was. Reluctantly we shared our plan . We were not sure about his reaction but we were shocked at his response.
Uncle: You should consider my house as a base for this event. If someone get hold of you, I can jump and save you guys.
He warned "It could be dangerous. It's a high profile marriage. High officials will be there so do tight security."
We were grateful at Uncle's open heartedness and started planning the details.But most of the guys were getting panicked as the plan was approaching its final stage. Paul was the only guy sticking to it and was desperate.
We understood he did not have a party for a long time and desperately looking for this. Or may be its his fathers absence in the town that made him extraordinarily bold.
Paul: Who else can accompany me. I am fine alone too.
Nobody came forward.I was trying to hide behind Ghosh. Suddenly Saha picked my hand and pushed me forward. Paul picked his guy.There was no looking back for me.
Paul: You are my true friend. We will have a good time.
Everybody convinced me that it was going to be fun as tasty food was going to be served. I had a weakness for food. I was just not able to figure out one thing. Why I was the chosen one??? I was asked to arrange some good pair of clothes and shoes. I got the shoe but my shirt was not that elite. My elder brother was just out of his medical college. He was investing all his earning on good fashion. That was his trick to make a patient feel good. I begged for one and he generously offered a shirt of his. I enquired about my father's schedule that evening and relieved to know that he would be late from office.
Action Time:
At around 6:30 PM we gathered at Biswas's house. His father asked me to do some leg exercise. After all my legs would be my survival kit if anything went wrong.Other friends gather too to see the great Indian Tamasha of one extremely courageous and one outstandingly confused guy.
Paul gave last shine to his hair and pour some perfume. He asked me to be in action and be alert. My mind was covered with lots of bad thoughts.
Anyway I commanded my CPU to gather strength and follow Paul blindly. We came out of our den.Everybody presnt there were bidding good bye to us with a smile on their face. It was a farewell smile. Only Saha smiled cunningly which suggested he was going to forget us the very next day if we got caught. We took off as armyman started for border. Paul's scooter was waiting outside. It was a short drive and Paul parked the scooter in the parking lot.
Me: Should not we buy some flowers at least. That look odd if we go empty handed.
Paul: What's the point than going there. Don't worry about nonsense things and think about the plan.
We entered the gate. The shine on our shirt and shoe worked. We crossed the first hurdle. We felt little weak on our knees as we proceed further. We saw a lot of dressed armyman and and a high ranked official from Police. Paul looked little pale and asked me not to be afraid. Actually there was no point of being afraid. We were all aware what's going to happen if something goes wrong.
I asked Paul "What's next?".
He said "Food".
I said "Isn't it little early".
Paul said" There is no time for food."
But as we were aproaching serving area Paul suddenly swinged his mood .
Paul: We should confirm whose marriage it is. Let us go in and check it out.
Me: Are you crazy? Lets have the food and go home quickly.
Paul: It won't take long. Come with me.
I strongly denied this time and asked him to carry on. I decided to wait outside angrily but without any tense facial expression. Paul came back after 3 long minutes and with a smile on his face. I asked how was the bride. He said" Who cares. I just confirmed the name of the bride from the wall decoration.".
The Final Touch:
We selected a quiet corner to have food. To our utmost discomfort a healthy but polished guy took a seat just next to us. We exchanged tense yet normal conversation. We got to know from his discussion he was a big guy in State assembly. We can not actually relish our extremely delicious and rich food . That guy might be getting little sceptical at our status and kept enquiring our where about. I stopped the speculation and firmly said "
We know Sujata di (Bengali term for elderly sister). She is very close to us.".
We selected a quiet corner to have food. To our utmost discomfort a healthy but polished guy took a seat just next to us. We exchanged tense yet normal conversation. We got to know from his discussion he was a big guy in State assembly. We can not actually relish our extremely delicious and rich food . That guy might be getting little sceptical at our status and kept enquiring our where about. I stopped the speculation and firmly said "
We know Sujata di (Bengali term for elderly sister). She is very close to us.".
Sujata was the name of the bride and that piece of information was passed to me by Paul. The big guy seemed to be confirmed and little relieved. We focussed on eating and discussed current affair, political situation, student condition ,municipality roads and weather condition just to compete his intellectual. The food was delicious and completed all the courses of dinner plenty and comfortably.
"We did it." exclaimed Paul.
We declared it a successful Wedding Crasher and just could not imagine the facial expression of the other coward guys who missed this opportunity of free food and extraordinary experience. We were so happy that we exchanged notes with security guard while coming out. It was weird for him but we were already out of his reach.
Myself and Paul just approached the Scooter enjoying every second of our achievement. Suddenly a shadow approached us real quick. My face became pale when I heard the voice.
Shadow: What the hell are you doing at this wedding. Were you invited here?
It was my Father who was invited in that marriage and got delayed. I did not answer the question and Paul as a smart boy always accelerated the scooter as much as he could. We were not sure where we were heading.....
Note: This is a true story. I use only the surname of the characters to avoid any legal action by the Judge whose Daughter was getting married. Enjoy reading the blog without the extraordinary names.
Nice, you maintained the suspense till the end. Meeting your father when you were leaving is even better. Keep it up.
ReplyDeletevery nice....very funny n crazy experience....could feel every bit of suspence n thrill becouse of the wonderful writing skill...well done jiju...hope to see some more very soon...i must suggest u try for writing seriously...:)
ReplyDeleteSimply a 'wow', that's the prompt reaction you can expect from me. I knew that the guys of the pre-millennium batch from NSV were mischievous but didn't know that they had the X-factor too. I mean so bold and crazy. You have such a good art of story telling, Debu. The nerve-wracking tension, the nail-biting suspense.....ahhha and what a relief when I reached the last para. At least the gang won the odds and the mission was accomplished. I know that this the spirit of you guys which makes you rock, be it in 'desh' or 'videsh'.
ReplyDeleteBut one suggestion, the surnames really don't work. Come on! twelve years is a pretty long time. People with poor memory like me really can't identify people with surnames. Biswa is 'dadu', right? But who are these Saha, Paul or Roy? Need little clarification. At least name them somewhere in a bracket.
chanda r u going to be chetan bhagat 2 "agartala version" !!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeletei don know the feeling knocked me after reading ur letters :)
keep writing on.
i m waiting for my turn in ur sequence.
tata.
Catchy. Good job :)
ReplyDeleteWell written Deb...Nice ending...waiting for more...keep writing
ReplyDeleteHummm ... good to know the fun loving side of you ... the end was actually awesome.... those words must have been launched in the typical infamous "Silchari Sylhetti" accent of his ...
ReplyDeletewow.. good experience bishu da!aro share koro....very interesting indeed.
ReplyDelete