K Knocks Killer Punches

          Adrenaline. A dangerous thing. Makes people do all sorts of things. When you are young it’s more rampant than ever. It makes you foolish, reckless. Removes the trace of rationality. Makes the blood race to the head, flooding on its way, the capability to think.

          It must have been that, otherwise, there wasn’t an explanation I could find.

         Towards the end of our third year in college most of us had already got job offers. With those offer letters in hand, we felt lighter, happier and freer than ever. We hardly studied and somehow thought ourselves elevated in ranks. We were naïve and pompous.  

          The semesters were going on. In less than a month we would be the senior most students in the college. In spite of all the reasons being there for us to be air headed, we girls had decided to finally start studying for the semesters. Because job offers or not, we still needed to pass the exams. Boys, however, still avoided any contact with the books stubbornly.

          One such night while I was trying to concentrate on a particularly difficult chapter of Computer Networks, I heard hurried footsteps. All were running to the terrace. Apparently, in a drunken dispute, third year boys, with a sudden sense of solidarity, had attacked the second years. And the girls were running to the terrace to get a good look.

          As we watched, within five minutes, chaos reigned supreme. Everyone beat everyone without discrimination. Some over enthusiastic third years took it upon themselves to destroy as much property as possible. Second Year students’ property of course. Broken PCs, beds, suitcases, torn shoes and shirts littered here and there.

          And then it was all over. Just like that. By the time the hostel warden reached the scene, everyone had retreated to their rooms. As if it had never happened. Except for the horrible proof that those debris carried.

          The wounded from both the Years were the obvious give-aways. But apart from that no one was caught. Amazingly, even after all this, no one betrayed names. No second Year student accused any third Year and vice versa. But those who were caught were taken to the police station. They spent the night in the lock-up. In the morning, two hours before the start of the exam, college bailed them out.

         If we girls thought that after knocking each other’s senses out with those killer punches they will not see each other’s faces again, we were wrong. Soon we saw them again, boys from the second and third Years, together, discussing laughingly – about that night!

          Now, this was a killer punch on our faces! “Boys!” Was all we could say!



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Riot of Random


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