When getting to class late is good
During my entire first year at H.L. College, I was a nobody. That of course implied that I didn’t know a lot of people either. I was an introvert by nature. About halfway through my second year, things changed.
It was the first week of December that year. 2003 hadn’t really been amazing. I was turning twenty in three weeks. That’s all I looked forward to. Maybe I’d have better luck next year.
“Ronny! You’re late again!” My mother. She said those four words everyday before I left for college. And I tried my best to keep up this “tradition”. My mother just sighed. In Ahmedabad, the bus service wasn’t great. I always opted for an auto-rickshaw. We didn’t have a second car and I wasn’t allowed to drive a two-wheeler.
I fumbled for change as I got out of the auto-rickshaw. Shit. Shit! First lecture was Economics. And the professor wasn’t particularly pleasant towards latecomers. I had begun to wonder, after one and half years in the discipline, whether commerce was really what I wanted to do. So what if I missed the first lecture. I’d catch up. Maybe I didn’t even need the classes. Look for the money. Hurry. Hurry!
At H.L., students had to get inside the main building by 12 p.m. The college authorities locked the front entrance after that. Classes started at five-past. I didn’t even try for the front gates. There was a back entrance which would remain open for a few more minutes. I could still make it. I half walked-half ran to the back. Good. I was almost there.
“Excuse me……..” Who the hell? I turned around. The guy introduced himself as Karan. His goatee accentuated the weirdness of his smile. I knew him from before. He was one of the smarter and academically blessed people on campus. And he was a good drummer. I’d seen him playing at the previous year’s college festival. I admired him. At that instant though, I was screaming “Stupid senior!” in my head. These people were always on the look-out for junior prey, trying to get them to join clubs, help out with the annual festival, etc. “I’m getting late for class, dude.” I said that to him nineteen times. Again, in my head.
“I was wondering if you sing…?” What kind of a question was that? And yes, of course I did. Mostly in my room though. No training, no experience. “Why?” He got to the point. The guys at the music club were thinking of going a bit further than instrumentals at the cultural festival. They needed a vocalist. He’d seen me wearing a couple of my rock ‘n roll tees to college.
“No way man.” “Hey, you could try for the solo event too.” Yeah right. I sang for fun. Not for other people to make fun of me. “Auditions are tomorrow at 3 p.m., upstairs. I’ll see you there.” “But…..?” I was nervous. I was reluctant. I said yes. I made it to class a couple of minutes before my professor did.
I knew I’d forget lines under pressure. And I did. I messed up. I had to start over twice. The supervising professor said I had a good voice. I hated myself. Karan said the rest of the music club was impressed. He said practice would make perfect. Hah! The final gig was in a couple of weeks. I didn’t know whether to be terrified or excited about my first gig. We worked hard. The night before the gig, we practiced on the college grounds till six in the morning. Karan slept in his car because he had to rehearse for another event at 8.30 a.m. We played reasonably well. But the gig was very well received, largely because we were the first complete “rock ‘n roll” act in H.L. ever.
Over the next year we won competitions, played to entertain students, and had a lot of fun. Me and Karan even formed a separate band, outside of college. We made wonderful friends, who shared a common love for music. Karan always encouraged us and inspired us with his energy, his pep-talk. When I look back, I feel glad that he coaxed me to come to that audition. And that I met him partly because I was late for class. I still consider that day to be a major turning point in my life. I started breaking down the walls I had built around myself. Karan made me believe in my abilities. He always said I could do it. I simply believed him.
When I left India, Karan gave me a note which said, “Distances are only present in the physical state.” That’s him. Champion drummer. Philosopher extraordinaire. Friend for life. Karan “Olly” Dangayach.
P.S. Thank you Olly. For always being a friend, and a brother, in need.
It was the first week of December that year. 2003 hadn’t really been amazing. I was turning twenty in three weeks. That’s all I looked forward to. Maybe I’d have better luck next year.
“Ronny! You’re late again!” My mother. She said those four words everyday before I left for college. And I tried my best to keep up this “tradition”. My mother just sighed. In Ahmedabad, the bus service wasn’t great. I always opted for an auto-rickshaw. We didn’t have a second car and I wasn’t allowed to drive a two-wheeler.
I fumbled for change as I got out of the auto-rickshaw. Shit. Shit! First lecture was Economics. And the professor wasn’t particularly pleasant towards latecomers. I had begun to wonder, after one and half years in the discipline, whether commerce was really what I wanted to do. So what if I missed the first lecture. I’d catch up. Maybe I didn’t even need the classes. Look for the money. Hurry. Hurry!
At H.L., students had to get inside the main building by 12 p.m. The college authorities locked the front entrance after that. Classes started at five-past. I didn’t even try for the front gates. There was a back entrance which would remain open for a few more minutes. I could still make it. I half walked-half ran to the back. Good. I was almost there.
“Excuse me……..” Who the hell? I turned around. The guy introduced himself as Karan. His goatee accentuated the weirdness of his smile. I knew him from before. He was one of the smarter and academically blessed people on campus. And he was a good drummer. I’d seen him playing at the previous year’s college festival. I admired him. At that instant though, I was screaming “Stupid senior!” in my head. These people were always on the look-out for junior prey, trying to get them to join clubs, help out with the annual festival, etc. “I’m getting late for class, dude.” I said that to him nineteen times. Again, in my head.
“I was wondering if you sing…?” What kind of a question was that? And yes, of course I did. Mostly in my room though. No training, no experience. “Why?” He got to the point. The guys at the music club were thinking of going a bit further than instrumentals at the cultural festival. They needed a vocalist. He’d seen me wearing a couple of my rock ‘n roll tees to college.
“No way man.” “Hey, you could try for the solo event too.” Yeah right. I sang for fun. Not for other people to make fun of me. “Auditions are tomorrow at 3 p.m., upstairs. I’ll see you there.” “But…..?” I was nervous. I was reluctant. I said yes. I made it to class a couple of minutes before my professor did.
I knew I’d forget lines under pressure. And I did. I messed up. I had to start over twice. The supervising professor said I had a good voice. I hated myself. Karan said the rest of the music club was impressed. He said practice would make perfect. Hah! The final gig was in a couple of weeks. I didn’t know whether to be terrified or excited about my first gig. We worked hard. The night before the gig, we practiced on the college grounds till six in the morning. Karan slept in his car because he had to rehearse for another event at 8.30 a.m. We played reasonably well. But the gig was very well received, largely because we were the first complete “rock ‘n roll” act in H.L. ever.
Over the next year we won competitions, played to entertain students, and had a lot of fun. Me and Karan even formed a separate band, outside of college. We made wonderful friends, who shared a common love for music. Karan always encouraged us and inspired us with his energy, his pep-talk. When I look back, I feel glad that he coaxed me to come to that audition. And that I met him partly because I was late for class. I still consider that day to be a major turning point in my life. I started breaking down the walls I had built around myself. Karan made me believe in my abilities. He always said I could do it. I simply believed him.
When I left India, Karan gave me a note which said, “Distances are only present in the physical state.” That’s him. Champion drummer. Philosopher extraordinaire. Friend for life. Karan “Olly” Dangayach.
P.S. Thank you Olly. For always being a friend, and a brother, in need.
posted by Dibesh Saha at 5:15 AM
2 Comments:
Hello Fellow HLite!! :)
Good to see HLites on blogger, considering the fact that very few Amdavadis blog! :)
Keep writing..
Nirwa
Heh heh..
Yes, I did ran a search for HL at blogsearch on google..
It indeed was a surprise! :)
Thanks for dropping by! :)
Nirwa
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