Bond Busted - Part Two

NOTE - This is the second part of a sequence. Make sure you have read the first part. If you haven't click here.

Spandan. I don't really remember who it was who specifically suggested that name but I do remember the other names in the fray, the only other chief contender being Jashn. Unlike the story so far, Spandan was completely drenched in politics right from the word 'Go'. Initially, the usually forthcoming people from our batch were reluctant to handle the burden of organizing the annual function of the college. But they finally gave in to the tremendous pressure and the promises of being conferred the fabled 'power' by the seniors and took the mantle of organizing the biggest event in our college.

It was clear to me at a very early stage that people were going to be punished for what they had done in the near and the not-too-distant past. It was the whole saga of ego clashes all over again - only this time the blows that would be inflicted were meant to be final and fatal. Broadly, two groups were appearing to emerge and a third one which consisted of the fringe players simply content to watch the proceedings without any ado. Before their counterparts could even count the days to the D-day on their fingers, one of the two major groups - heavily backed by its patron seniors had seized the organization of the function by its horns. And once they had done that, the politics began to surface. We have these certain gentlemen - from amongst students only - who go into a deep slumber during most parts of the year, some of them managing to handle academics and the others showing their disregard for it - but suddenly resurface like a mythical Mummy in the pre-function period. And the plans and strategies they chalk out! It would even put the much-maligned, much-abused stalwarts in the two Houses of Parliament to shame. The Moon would have been sufficiently entertained had it kept its eyes on the two hostels at Rajkot in the months of March and April last year for almost all the homework and teamwork for the function - mostly grand plans to achieve supremacy and bring the 'opposition' to its knees - was carried out under its mist-laden light at the door steps of the hostels. The lines from a recent movie iterate what I was already thinking back then. People are people - they can never be outrightly termed good or bad. When people do good deeds they become good people and when they do otherwise they become bad people. What unfolded in our batch did so because people began branding others' good and bad and began judging their deeds by their reputations instead of the other way round. The cycle began to go in reverse of the direction in which it was meant to go and the anatomy of a huge rift in the batch was thus securely structured. In retrospect, just think - Did it really matter which way the pendulum swung? Did it really matter whose name appeared in the two square inches of paper plastered at three places on the globe? Did it really matter who took the stage and who fashioned the cricket pitch, if at the end of it all everyone could have enjoyed it? Was the small function of our small college a big enough event to spark off such controversies and draft such animosities between us? Yes, one is not supposed to witness injustice with bowed heads. One is not supposed to let hooliganism dictate our duties. Occasions such as these are opportunities when one can stand up and be counted as one who will be remembered. You fully deserve to ask for your rights and question their relevance. But, honestly and frankly, if not to others at least answer yourself - was it such motives which guided our actions back then? Were we trying to develop our strengths or were we simply sniffing around for the rival's weaknesses? Was talent being rewarded or was silence being punished? Why then could a dozen seniors exterminate all remains of unity from our batch and axe a plant which had still not even started bearing fruits? Today, each of these questions can be emphatically answered unless of course you still chose to turn a blind eye on our mistakes. And the answers fail to vindicate not a single one of us. It was a shame that people clustered together only to serve their personal gains. Naturally, any person worth his weight in salt is expected to be a little selfish but the extent of this flawed character that we all exhibited is way beyond the realms of reasonable pardon. Hands that had not even pointed in the same direction till now were now being shook with claims of friendship. Heads which were once full of abuses to hurl at others were now hustled together discussing the next 'move'. It was like rotating a kaleidoscope - new patterns with every turn. It was like a chess game without rules - even the pawns could topple the king on their day. It was like auctioning for something you had no idea about - you just wanted to outbid your rival even if it meant paying a fortune for worthless gravel. Back then, I would have gladly beheaded half the college and justify my act like Lord Parsurama. But now, I realize that the function, however stupid and insignificant it seems in hindsight, at that time gave everything that human nature craves for. In the Editorial of the college magazine, I have written a flourishing account of Spandan. If an eraser that spared nothing but the truth was used over it, those two pages would be left completely blank. Drawing parallels from Pathology, what had happened till Spandan was like a reversible injury, but the function tilted the balance and made it irreversible - and apoptosis and necrosis of the batch became a foregone conclusion.

An optimist may still view the function as a fortunate occurrence. It did bring out the best and worst in everybody and in the mirrors of ambition everyone was shown for what they really were. Like minded people came together. Even if it meant going from bad to worse, it at least gave the batch a stamp of permanence and put an end to the whole rigmarole of relations sweetening and souring by the hour. With fewer people left together, there was better understanding between them all and a rare sight of happy faces did indeed dominate the later part of the year. No one has still cleared the rumble of the function and shards still pierce the feet if you try to traverse on those areas. A useless set of DVDs and a mini-magazine apart, the only things that we have left from Spandan are memories - ranging from very good to very bad - and even those will fade as life goes on.

If you have been using only your eyes so far, I would recommend you enlist the services of your mind and heart...and your soul too if it agrees to come. Look at the clock. Look at the calender. Look at the lines in your palm. Aren't they suggesting something? If your mind and heart have looked too, you will find that they are suggesting the arrival of a watershed moment. Only two years remain - two years when excepting the hostel and the hospital we will be seeing little of each other. If things stand as they are, no one can still deny you from becoming a good doctor. But, if you feel the need to change and actually do so - you will learn the art of healing too. In the tongue of Pathology I spoke before, the damage caused is irreversible. But, pathology is a science and science is but a humble servant of Life. Life can never be bad enough if you know how to apply the healing touch. Try and examine the limits of your individuality and one day you will realize that it is infact limitless - an entity that meanders into the infinitum. Understand this and you will also realize that all individualities are complete only when they blend into each other. Years down the lane, if you chance across your batch-mate, I am sure you wouldn't want your eyes being forced to look down and pretend that nothing has happened. Why...some of us might even make it big and provide some bed time tales and tea time boasts for the others to tell their children and grand-children about. Try to heal and try to unite. There's a place in your heart and I know its filled with love. It will take just a few well-spent minutes of reflection to locate it and another few to unlatch it. Just live amidst the miracles that happen then.

Another function is probably coming now - and this time we are not the ones performing...but I am sure many hands will be itching to wear the puppeting gloves. I am talking to the minds and hearts that control those hands - Stop. You have done enough damage in our batch. Let fate chart out its course in the batches beneath us. Spit the poison and sip the nectar. I assure you - its far too delicious...

Epilogue -

Whew. That was long...and pretentious too, I suspect. When you choose to employ a slightly lofty vocabulary, words don't always pour out of the heart. Nevertheless, I suppose in the broad sense the message is conveyed. I don't expect to make a huge impact - neither the readership nor the read is capable of being a part of such a thing. It needs a tremendous force in text and people who can be guided by that force. But, I would be happy if the write-up is just taken seriously and a line of thought started in the right direction subsequent and as a result of it. An overhaul of the mindset is the first thing to be done - tiny steps taken now and then sleepwalking back again over the coming months would be purposeless. Any discussions regarding this article in person will not be very enthusiastically entertained. I am better with words sent through fingers than those sent through the lips.