It started with a snap!
The mechanical department, the hundreds of ladies, thousands of well-dressed gentlemen and hordes of cameras flashing in every conceivable direction...
No awkwardness, just plain smiles and loads of cheer under the dome that gave us all those memories.
Next, there were the Na-Real awards. And the auditorium was booming with shouts, whistles and abuses. Mainly, there were conventional categories like Playboy, Coolest dude, Hottest chic, Biggest nerd and Pervy pervertson("tharki"). There was also the category of Shaitan Khopadi, for which the winner was yours truly.
From being dragged to the stage by the collar to being kicked heartily on my arse to being punched generously in every which way, my hostel mates left no stone unturned. And to top it all, I was thrown bodily on the stage to go and collect my Na-Real and show some gratitude. I was delirious for a minute or two while sitting on the stage, holding my head. Finally, I got up, collected the said Na-Real and bellowed choicest words for all my friends who kicked me like a piece of crap. I could have said more but there were girls in the audience and some of them still think of me as a respectable person. Although I did feel like yelling at a girl who taunted, "This is AH5 culture". But I walked back to my seat and sat down gingerly. Woe betide those who kicked my cojones!
Dinner awaited those who were still able to walk and talk at the same time. We reached the Visitor Guest House on the topmost point of the campus and were about to feast on the delicious feast when we were shooed away by the chef. Apparently, the feast laid indoors was only for profs.
So we are in the long queue, plate in hand, swearing mentally. Now and then, we heard the roar from some prof laughing over the delicious tandoori chicken and paneer tikka. My ears started ringing with words like 'dignity', 'self-respect' etc. while my stomach was rumbling with hunger.
To hell with the profs! I grabbed the biggest guy around me, Sudip Pathak and headed indoors to eat(or die trying). The chef had no qualms after seeing the scumbag that Pathak is. And so, plates piled with food, we were about to start our feast when once again, the chef interrupted us.. Pathak started seeing red. We had to stuff 2 leg-pieces in his mouth to calm him down when the chef asked us to eat indoors lest everyone finds out and jumps on the food inside.
We ate to our fill on the stairs and then rushed outside for to dance.
After expressing deep solidarity with the guys queuing up for food, we smirked to ourselves and started jiggling to the music :P
Punjabi songs rocked the night away.. It was all there, fun, food and frolic. This night belonged to us, the 2009 batch. The best batch of BPGC!! All those years of fun, fighting and friendship will be heartily missed...
Godspeed, to all those with 2009xxxxxxxG as an integral part of their identities! Have a great life ahead and do turn up at all our re-unions! Cheers to us!!! :D