It all begun with Gaurav washing some Chana in the bathroom basin before soaking them overnight in water. His work was neat, quite neat this time. The next time I visited the bathroom I found just seventeen of them in the sink. The last time he was washing apples, he left three of them in the sink, unofficially redefining what carelessness is all about. Seventeen Chana seeds take much lesser a space than three apples and on a volumetric basis, Gaurav later calculated that he was seven percent more efficient than the previous time. I collected the seeds from the basin and a couple of them were left behind. The next day, we three rushed to college and later in the evening, it came to our notice that one of the seed, even without any knowledge whatsoever made Darwin and Hitler proud of the employment of theory of survival of the fittest. It sprouted and we could see a small white root coming out of it, telling us that our new room partner had arrived. This was the second time in my engineering span that our room had served as a temporary maternity center. The previous time it was during my first year during Diwali vacation, when a pigeon made a nest and gave birth to a baby. We treated the pigeon as our room partner, giving her the leftover to eat along with two bowls of water a day (Honest confession: we had mixed vodka in the bowl once). A month later, the pigeon ditched us, when her child had become able enough to fly. The family left our room and it was three of us again.
However, the new room partner, with its uncertain stay span, had arrived this time. Gaurav, being its unintentional father bought cotton, soaked the cotton in water (minus vodka) and carefully placed the seed on it. Two days later, the white root had changed to green. Gaurav proudly declared his illegitimate child as a 'plant'. A couple of days later we changed the cotton as the previous one started turning brown. The plant was grew good day by day and Gaurav seemed happy about it. I saw the expression on his face and wondered if my dad was proud in the same way when he saw me walking for the first time or not. Our room which hitherto lacked purpose had an atmosphere where the new room partner had all the attention. Things were going good till Friday happened. Gaurav, Ankit and I reached the station directly from college to catch our respective trains and reach our respective cities. We all forgot about our new room partner until Saturday afternoon when Gaurav called me and asked "Kutte, Gaandu ko kaha rakha tha tune?" (FYI the Chana plant was named Gaandu). "I think I placed on in the wash basin" I said. We both assumed that the water on the cotton won't dry out before Sunday and that Gaandu will be safe and sound.
However, destiny had something else awaiting. The three of us packed our bags on Sunday morning to leave for Surat when we got calls from our classmates informing us that a flood is being anticipated and warning us to not board the train to Surat. We were all worried for our classmates, for the beer bottles we had stored in the basement and for Gaandu of course. The next one week was not good for the city. The drainage water flowed backwards to the houses, rain and flood water made it impossible to go out and prices of things sky rocketed. Meanwhile, it was a fun time for three of us, we watched bond movies at ease, listened to songs and the part where our concern for our classmates, beer and Gaandu was present in our mind stared to shrink. Time flied that week and Surat was out of danger by next Sunday. The three of us boarded up trains scheduled for evening and reached the room by night. Gaurav reached first, at about 8. Ankit and I reached the room by 8:30. Gaurav opened the door with a face resembling close to that of Ishant Sharma when he, out of a habit concedes more than 10 runs in an over. We understood what that meant. Ankit and rushed to the bathroom and we found the cotton in which Gaandu was placed to be entirely dry. Gaandu had left us, with its body, which out of seven days of decaying turned brown. Maybe Gaandu was not fit enough to survive, maybe it wasn't any of our fault, maybe it was all a part of the bigger plan that Almighty had for us. However, it wasn't so easy. We were attached to Gaandu. We had lost a room partner. That night, Gaandu's absence could be felt. As we were supposed to be grown ups, we didn't cry, our hearts silently weeped and we went to sleep late that night. The worst part of attachment is that you never realize how attached you are till you have to part ways. However, our beer bottles which were stored in the basement were later found to be safe and that news somehow compensated for our sour mood.
However, the new room partner, with its uncertain stay span, had arrived this time. Gaurav, being its unintentional father bought cotton, soaked the cotton in water (minus vodka) and carefully placed the seed on it. Two days later, the white root had changed to green. Gaurav proudly declared his illegitimate child as a 'plant'. A couple of days later we changed the cotton as the previous one started turning brown. The plant was grew good day by day and Gaurav seemed happy about it. I saw the expression on his face and wondered if my dad was proud in the same way when he saw me walking for the first time or not. Our room which hitherto lacked purpose had an atmosphere where the new room partner had all the attention. Things were going good till Friday happened. Gaurav, Ankit and I reached the station directly from college to catch our respective trains and reach our respective cities. We all forgot about our new room partner until Saturday afternoon when Gaurav called me and asked "Kutte, Gaandu ko kaha rakha tha tune?" (FYI the Chana plant was named Gaandu). "I think I placed on in the wash basin" I said. We both assumed that the water on the cotton won't dry out before Sunday and that Gaandu will be safe and sound.
However, destiny had something else awaiting. The three of us packed our bags on Sunday morning to leave for Surat when we got calls from our classmates informing us that a flood is being anticipated and warning us to not board the train to Surat. We were all worried for our classmates, for the beer bottles we had stored in the basement and for Gaandu of course. The next one week was not good for the city. The drainage water flowed backwards to the houses, rain and flood water made it impossible to go out and prices of things sky rocketed. Meanwhile, it was a fun time for three of us, we watched bond movies at ease, listened to songs and the part where our concern for our classmates, beer and Gaandu was present in our mind stared to shrink. Time flied that week and Surat was out of danger by next Sunday. The three of us boarded up trains scheduled for evening and reached the room by night. Gaurav reached first, at about 8. Ankit and I reached the room by 8:30. Gaurav opened the door with a face resembling close to that of Ishant Sharma when he, out of a habit concedes more than 10 runs in an over. We understood what that meant. Ankit and rushed to the bathroom and we found the cotton in which Gaandu was placed to be entirely dry. Gaandu had left us, with its body, which out of seven days of decaying turned brown. Maybe Gaandu was not fit enough to survive, maybe it wasn't any of our fault, maybe it was all a part of the bigger plan that Almighty had for us. However, it wasn't so easy. We were attached to Gaandu. We had lost a room partner. That night, Gaandu's absence could be felt. As we were supposed to be grown ups, we didn't cry, our hearts silently weeped and we went to sleep late that night. The worst part of attachment is that you never realize how attached you are till you have to part ways. However, our beer bottles which were stored in the basement were later found to be safe and that news somehow compensated for our sour mood.
