This Saturday went down with melting ice-creams and balls potted down in different holes. I just went out with my five other friends for party in the town. The plan was made in the most planned way that could be possible on this earth. We were giving some good competition to 5- year plans by the Indian government.
We were supposed to leave by 11 but everyone was sleeping as if some chloroform was inserted directly into their nostrils. If Kumbhkaran might have been watching us from any corner of this great universe as it says in the Indian Mythology he must have been pleased dearly on seeing his such great and kind-hearted followers. Still a plan was made and it should be accomplished. I got a message from Akhil at 10 am in the morning, I was feeling too sleepy even to check my mobile but my room-mate, Sambhav, was not. He waked me up by 11 am and said,” We are leaving in 1 hour. Wake everyone else and also tell them to make a program as where to go.” I replied,” Aye! Aye! Captain.” Now it was Red-Alert. We should move fast and swift. Lets beat the clock this time and I went back to sleep.
By 2:00 in the afternoon, Atlast we were all out on the street moving towards the college main-gate deciding where to go. But the watch-guard stopped us saying,” No ID cards! you can’t go.” All except one had the IDs. So we tried to negotiate but he was persistent. We were being treated as some refugees were trying to cross the L.O.C without the legalized papers or the Bollywood Star/ Superstars are being treated at US airports. I think everyone should become a minister at some point to time in his life. You can save hell lot of time of your life surpassing queues and inspections especially like Rahul Gandhi who can surpass inspections not only in India but in Italy also. Soon we were allowed to pass the LOC.
We hired an auto-rickshaw to COOL road. The only thing cool at that place and at that time was the weather but that has nothing to do with the man-made road I suppose. We decided to have some food first as it was lunch time and we had already skipped our breakfast. The food was delicious but the quantity surprised all of us as if some food crises are going on in the country right now and we were among the victims. We hostlers all across the country save so much food skipping so many breakfasts sleeping, lunches and dinners partying around the town still India is facing high rate of inflation and crises time after time, I don’t understand where the hell all the stuff is going. One thing I admired about them was there hospitality, I just loved it, even the low-standard chai-wallahs that you see at different railway stations can do better than that. and we started dumping food straight into our stomach as if we were just thrown out of a hunger strike or I should better use the word “Anshan”. All praise to the demon “Kumbhkaran“. I know he will bless us some day.
After having enough of food, we were back on the Cool road and hired an auto-rickshaw to Jyoti Chowk. Lets melt down some ice-creams. That vanilla and strawberry mix filled inside a chocolate Zee cone was quite appetizing or “exquisito” as they say in Spanish.
The crux of the evening is yet to be achieved. We headed toward the Pool hall at the other corner of the market. The place was dim lighted, while separate lights were provided for every table. We rented one table and everybody picked up sticks as they are gonna beat Dennis Orcollo ( the guy who won the WPA world Eight-ball championship 2011). Soon the rules of the game of two was altered to fit for a fair game of five people. After all we are Indians, we are good at this. If a place of two can accommodate five on a bike, place of five can accommodate nine in a car, room of three can accommodate six in a hostel, I believe it was quite fair we, five people, were playing a game of two. Soon the sixth one also joined the game.
But these comprising agendas were draining off all the fun. So two of us countrified themselves to another table. I just know how I played, I hope other two must have enjoyed too. The game started with a feeble shot and that didn’t resulted in a foul as who actually knows them. The game with sixteen balls was actually named Eight-Ball, I always wonder how do all this stuff happened. Smell of the cigirattes soon started irritating the rest and we marched back to our hostel or I prefer calling it as a Ant-colony, the only difference I feel that there is concrete and paint instead of the mud or sand.
Finally the day ended with a sack full of memories and some cherished moments.