Bunking, Kabali and Chai

I’ve never been successfully in bunking a day of college or class. In thirteen years of School education I’ve won 100% attendance prizes so often that I gave up on collecting them. In the two years of Pre-University Course (PUC) my attendance has been  an all-time academic life low. 75% in the first year and 68% in the second,  bunked them because of the student the three student associations, the cultural, commerce and science forums, which were academic-ish and allowed me to claim attendance for them. I hated the one year I spent in engineering and yet I  had nearly 100% attendance, so there is no saving me.

Then I joined EJP, classes were so fucking wonderful, I loved sitting for all the lectures, discussions and conversations we’d have and bunking didn’t even cross my mind. Every time classes got intense there’d be a psychology class with Sister Dr Judy, which was an hour to turn off and to recover from the intensity of  the Optional English classes. Sister Judy is an awful teacher, a nice person, but awful teacher. She couldn’t teach to save her own life and she was also the head of the department that had  one other teacher.

These conversations of my non-existent bunking life  started floating in my head because I’ve almost never bunked college to go watch a movie, except once in PUC just two or three weeks before my final year classes were coming to an end. I don’t even remember the movie because it was four years ago. I was commissioned to write about my experience of watching Rajinikanth’s latest film Kabhali, with a Rajinikanth fan association, so I picked the earliest first day show at 6 am, in any theatre I could.

After the movie, I went around to two other theatres that were screening the film and spoke to the audience to get a better perspective and the film’s impact on the audience. I was disappointed with the lukewarm reaction people showed outside the theatre because the screaming and shouting during the film screening was  crazy and infectious. It was so energetic at 6 am, I too started  screaming and would have whistled if I knew.

During the interval I got out of my seat to say hello to my cousins who were at two other corners because we weren’t able to get seats to sit together but movie over watching togethet. This is my second morning show at Lakshmi theatre in S G palya (Tavarekere) and during both these shows munching egg-puff during the interval and sipping some fake mango wannabe juice from glass bottles is a ritual I want to start. I’m going to watch as many morning shows as I can, because missing classes won’t be a problem, I’ve hardly ever had any attendance problem and then there is also the matter of me still having 98% attendance. My attendance has been 98% in first year and 95% in second year. So I don’t think I’d even worry about attendance problems, because for me to have attendance problem is like  the Simpsons not being funny, so impossible. As I thought and typed the previous line I held on to the wooden table of Chai chowk so tightly I might have  broken it.

I had to wait for over an hour before I got to sit my favourite table, I drank two or three ginger teas and  read Lolita, while waiting. I think the habit of using initials that my teachers and people involved with my English department is from Nabokov but this is just a wild, wild guess.

There was this super noisy  pair of boys in my second favourite table and they were discussing watching movies as students and now making them. “I’ve easily spent over twenty thousand rupees on movies because I’d be at the movies every Tuesday during my first and second year of degree” and the noisy one kept nodding. The noisy one was snapped his fingers and went “oye, oye” at the polite waiters who always smile at me, to order two lemon chai. More friends of theirs came in and the others left and I’m sure they weren’t drunk, just high. So fucking high, everybody in chowk knew what they were talking about. The less noisy one kept talking about films, script writing and needing a video editors for his film.

I lost track of that conversation when this odd couple sat in front of me and started vehemently talking about something in a language I know, but couldn’t remember shit but just the intensity of their conversation and how she shot dirty looks at me regularly.

I got my first favourite table, finally and I sat there for half hour nearly. The ballet teacher had to start class, so our conversation ended and I decided to start writing. Two or maybe three people have changed from the bench in front of me. The two men in front of me, in unkempt beards and weird haircuts started talking about travelling and brought up “thadiyandamol” a mountain trek I  completed on my own when I was 12/13 years old. Just discovered chikmagalur is 260kms from Bangalore and that these men were planning a one day trip. I’ve passive smoked enough for today, before my headache gets a strong and lasting headache I shall leave. The lights were just switched on at Chowk and I’m going to shut the laptop and head home, after I pay thirty-six rupees for my ginger tea.

Image Source: Kabali FB page

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