Saala Gabbar. Aa be aa.

We called him Gabbar singh. A singh looks odd in a
south Indian engineering college. This singh was a six
footer and well built. He looked too macho and too out
of this world. He was three years senior to us. In other
words he was equivalent to God.

People gave him his respect. He never stood in queues.
Food, toilets, bathrooms, hot water, tea, coffee,
cigerettes, lab, city buses, you name it, he used to
get it. Queues? Not his game. We, lesser mortals had to
fight for everything, an extra puri, relieving a bloated
stomach, what not and what the fuck not.

Gabbar singh was the lion king. He was just too
invincible. (That was because he was accidentally misplaced
in juniors hostel.).

Every one used to wake up late. Except few souls. Madhav
and I were one of those souls. Madhav always wakes up in
an emergency mode. He had to empty his stomach at any cost
with in few minutes he wakes up. On a normal day he does that
without any hindrance because he wakes early. On a normal
day he gets to choose his favourite toilet because he wakes
up early.

That day wasn't normal. The chicken 69 that was served
the night before created several emergency wake up
situations that morning. For the fisrt time in his life
Madhav had competition. Just when he couldn't hold it any
longer he finally got an empty toilet, but then, Gabbar
entered and said, 'Ahoy. Stop there. I gotta go'. Madhav waited
outside with his eyes bulged, legs crossed, hands knotted
around his head, counting every micro second for full
ten minutes.

Now, my best buddy Madhav was a true hot blooded young gun.
Fuck Gabbar he said, the next day, I want to take revenge.
The idea of striking at the invincible Gabbar enticed me.
We hatched a plan.

One advantage we had was, from our room we had a view of
the corridor to the bathrooms and toilets. In other words,
we could keep vigilance. The next day when we saw Gabbar
entering his LU, we ran downstairs and reached the toilets.
One, two and three. Aha! The third one. The invincible
Gabbar was singing inside. May be singing makes it easier
for Sikhs. We thought. We unveiled Step 1. Madhav and I
started banging on Gabbar’s toilet door so hard that the
door looked like as if it was going to fall off.

Gabbar shouted from inside, Saala, Bhosdike, Bhainchod…….
That was sheer adrenaline rush for us. Stepping into
a senior’s territory was unthinkable in those days. With
great courage we mustered,
Saala Gabbar. Aa be aa. Baahar aa.

We could imagine the lion king fuming inside. Just when
we thought Gabbar was about to quickly finish his act and
open the door, we darted upstairs. (Madhav and I had an
instinct for these kind of things). We reached our room
and watched Gabbar roughing up some innocent juniors to
know who it was. That night we became kind of celebrities.
Saala, Gabbar caught on like wild fire.

Next day morning, before entering the toilet, Gabbar looked
around and marked all the men. Immediately we ran down,
waited for Gabbar to start the act and then started banging
on his door. Saala, Gabbar. Aa be aa. Baahar aa. Most
of our buddies and dudes were too shell shocked at out
sheer audacity. Getting caught in an act like that meant,
literally, death. Gabbar started his *chod profanity.
(We knew too little hindi to understand what he was saying).
We performed a superb and clean act that day. Just before
Gabbar opened the door shouting at the top of his lungs we
disappeared. Most of our buddies too, out of sheer panic
disappeared that day.

On day three an interesting thing happened.

how did gabbar trap smiley?
what did smiley do?

more in the upcoming

Saala Gabbar. Aa be aa.