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|by Divya Joshi|
It was highschool when I first saw an adult movie, I know you must be thinking ‘how late!’, well its not my fault it was non accessibility of resources. I saw it on a friend’s desktop computer which was gifted to him by his father in order to achieve fruitful and tangible results in Computer science. I don’t remember how strong he grew in computers but all I remember is that our friend circle grew hormonally, and grew faster. The fellow who owned the PC provided charity porn for us. He was often found reading ‘The Reproductive System’ along with ‘The Merchant of Venice’ – I never understood what’s the point …but I remember he was the first to tell me about the best use of Alt+Tab.
Those days Erotica was something new for me ! It was still an unfamiliar and risky talk ….above all the conservative family atmosphere treated it with extreme disgust and it was considered a taboo to have watched that or to even think about it.With rise of machines and gadgets, it gained hype and availability. It also gained a color – ‘Blue-Film’ we called it. I always wondered then why they call it blue. I asked a fellow geek out of curiosity he guessed it badly like - ‘Actually they have to arrange a blue setup so as to make the couple feel comfortable and then probably they convert it to the normal print or may be they feel blue later on’.
PC was a luxury and mobile phone was a distant dream even though when it was available for Rs. 500/- Kar lo dunia mutthi me – that’s how they pronounced it , we always took it as a pun intended.Our batch had a lot many ‘Ameerzaade’, that was the term given to all of them who owned either of the aforementioned luxuries.The class was virtually divided into two halves. A group of techies who would always discuss about the latest porn available on internet or the combo moves of their favourite 3d games and then they flaunt their knowledge to everyone else in the classroom. They had a totally different lingo as though they have already taken admission into the IITs and the remaining class looks forlorn and obsolete to them.Some of them were bright some were funny.
The other group was – the buffoons, they were experts of buffoonery and mocking , they were jovial, genial, amiable and extraordinarily funny, they took immense pleasure in mocking the techies. They all were average in studies and artists in some or the other aspects. I was one of them.
Both the groups had multi layered –interests. The techies were fond of sharing data. They prepared their notes on pc and they talked about how easily the maths book ML Agarwal could be read and practised on the PC itself. They started their pomp and show with a floppy disk and later on they got advanced with CDs. I used to look at them with animal eyes whenever they raised a CD in the class, because I had only seen it in one of the Mission Impossible movies. CD player was a luxury too. The worst part about the techies were – their content was repeatitive and limited.
We - The Buffoons were limited till sharing video game cassettes, but our talks were unlimited, we talked all day about dolls at Loretto Convent and some of the female faculty members of our school. We feared bunking classes but we did it on daily basis. Our prime interests were – Interval , mimicry of almost all the teachers, throwing dusters and chalks as rocket launchers.
Although I had nothing to do with a computer but the mushrooming of Cyber cafés and their infra with conjusted cabins generated a partial interest. Often I saved money for a weekend café session. I always chose the cabin at the corner so that nobody could see me what I am doing and I had mastered the art of Alt+Tab quite religiously. Porn sites along with academics was some great fun. I was not an addict, I was just curious.
Often I heard a few couples enjoying the cabin fever, I could hear random typing sound along with some eerie interjections. Watching porn websites was not at all easy because the fear of 'being caught' always haunted me. Above all I was warned by a creepy friend of mine he said - '‘Bhai aisa kaam karne pe police pakad leti hai’. Later on I dropped the idea of visting cafe for surfing when I saw it in the news that the police actually started taking interest in cyber cafe's and the people around there who are found taking interest in more than academics and knowledge oriented sites.
Learning computers was amazing, specially when a friend owns one, hanging out was a good option but it was expensive, a few of them had vehicle but then again petrol was a luxury for school going students and our pockets smelt horribly ....so to avoid freaking out together we used to sit and chat at a particular adda (any of the friend's place), we used to start our discussion about how this thing (the computer) can change the next generation and then later on ended watching porn. I cherished those moments when my friend said (while planning for a charity porn show) 'bhai sab chup mat baithna baat karte raho, parda gira de bhai' , another fellow said - 'mp3 player wala software khol ke volume bada de or window ka size chota kar de ALT Tab taiyaar rakhiyo, bus koi tension nahi hai'.
I had a very special group of friends, the rarest of the rarest people I knew, together we formed the league of extraordinary gentlemen. We were the buffoons as I had mentioned earlier. Together we had encountered an innumerous range of 'events' , I should rather say 'Kaands', I was always afraid of doing any 'kaand', but I always did many of them unknowingly. For instance I would mention a few of them after which I was titled as 'Kaand Joshi' !
I remember -
..... and many more which I can't share here.
A few memories I forgot to share - standard eigth and ninth I miss the most, the period of growing up.
It was 11 in the morning. Recess was just over and we were retiring to the classroom. The next class was English.Within the next five minutes the classroom sank into dead silence and the class monitor stood right in front of the blackboard like Hercules and displayed a wolfish grin. Each of us was quiet and alert. The introverts posed head-down, the ambiverts looked at the monitor to make sure that the monitor doesn't write their name on the black-board, and the extroverts were looking forward to create further nuisance. Suddenly we heard a series of footsteps. Those were clearly audible and with them a sense of fear lurked within all of us, and then we counted one, two , three.... and 'Jackson' (That was the pet name we used for Mr. Jackson) entered the class. Momentarily the monitor announced the names with a tinge of dejection mixed with eagerness to enjoy the damnation.
Jackson said - "Yes child what would you prefer 'Sticks or Slaps'", and with this phrase the entire classroom stood in defiance of tyranny, our facial arrangement grew pale with fear and our buttocks red later.
2002, St.Francis College - standard VIII knew only one fear and that was our very own English teacher Mr. Derick Jackson. He was a brand with baritone voice, the finest dressing sense, and the signature deodorant named 'playboy'. His knowledge in English Literature set an epitome which none could match. Though he taught us Maths, which proves that he was multi-skilled. He never smiled before us however he was known well among all the staff members for his maturity and dependability. Jackson's literature and sense of humour was subtle, for us it was grave. He might have cracked a joke while explaining Ceaser or Shylock but we took it seriously and brought it to our notebooks.
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