Rag-a-tack!

We usually sat under the shade of the banyan tree, waiting like vultures every morning. There was extreme disrepute to protect. They called us “vicious raggers”. We were fairly harmless in that respect; we played with the FEs (fresh, first-year student’s) mind; cracked some jokes; pulled few pranks; asked him or her a nasty question or two; made fun, and felt superior. We also made a lot of friends in the process, a reason I’m still a votary of ragging on college campuses.

It told us something of the human character, and how most live for the outsider’s (true or false) perception of themselves. At least young Ralphy boy was one of them. He’d walked into school that first day sporting shoulder long hair, a thick beard and a messenger bag hung low across a tattered black T-shirt that endorsed Metallica. We rounded him up along with all of his other unassuming cronies to “initiate” them. We sat for quite long trying to get to know these new faces. I understood little of the conversation, For Ralphy boy spoke in a tone which was a cross between that of Dany Filth and a call centre employee. I’m from “Bandrra” he claimed! Amidst all the rantings and ravings about Metallica and Megadeath I managed to ask him whether he’d heard Metallica’s ‘Beneath the abyss’ or ‘stranger calls’. Ralph went on to laud the guitar riffs and solos, their skewed structures, the vocals... Ralph had heard all the songs I referred to. Except, I hadn’t; those songs didn’t exist. I’d just made up the titles. When that dawned on him he let go of the Texan twang and quietly followed orders. Within minutes he was belly-dancing like Shakira, headbanging to silly Bollywood songs and riding his “imaginary” bike!

Ralph isn’t my friend’s real name for I always and still do address him as F.E. For one, this isn’t about him alone. Two, he is bigger than me and not a F.E. anymore. Just the other day I spotted him in the medical canteen. He and his cronies were devising ways to rag their newly arrived juniors. That’s when I knew life had come a full circle. Flashes of memories of my FE days came flashing by. The good ol’ times . The times when girls in college were still hot, seniors still menacing and college much more fun! Or so we like to think.

Yes, those days when you still had to hump the lion and the tree and the lamppost and the guy next to you and everything else in sight or imagination. When you air guitar, play CS with make believe guns, sell “imaginary stuff” for real money, learn trigonometry “engineering style”, do the athanni-chavanni dance routine, emulate the likes of Shakira and Bipasha, learn to pole dance and also be the pole! All in one day! Ah yes, and be not-so-politely asked to wear formals; but then we still are only this time by our professors. And the “sieg heils” for M****n along with the moonwalking all around . Ah crazy shite.Yes.

Don’t get me wrong. Those retards who beat other people up in the name of ragging should be banned, rusticated, arrested and publicly lynched even. And I think that perverted guys who like to make other guys act gay, or get them to strip and imitate intimate lovemaking are in need of some serious counseling. Or maybe they just need to get themselves a “girlfriend”. And those who think forcing juniors into substance abuse is “fun”, don’t waste it on them, I can be fun too you know.

But the harmless, creative, oft innovative “thing” that we make our juniors do is definitely not ragging. It’s more of like an elimination round for a reality show. Or take it as a prep-round for the crazier life to come. It’s a great way to get acquainted with your seniors. Learn to pole dance even, after all you do need alternate career options. And talk to that hot senior chick; make crazy memories that will last you a life time.

For us at R**T though we like to simply call it “orientation”. Ah, and any cute FEs(if you do exist) who haven’t been oriented yet are always welcome to come meet me.