I’ve only had a very few opportunities to stay in my hostel room. Still, I’ve had numerous memorable experiences there.Let me share with you one, in which I played a prank on my roommates.
We, a gang of five girls, lived in a room, that was at the farthest end of the corridor.All my roommates happened to be music freaks.They had a blasting radio which roared Hindi songs all day.Place potato chips on the table near to the radio, and you can see them dancing up and down-such was its wattage.
For me to put my brains to work, perfect silence is essential and this radio was the permanent source of distraction. At once, Marconi seemed to be crueler than Hitler. I always had had the urge to crush it with a huge stone, but I resisted myself from committing the crime by convincing myself that this crap instrument, under heavy workload, will one day tense its vocal cords and stop singing forever.
After about two days of continued annoyance, I decided to damage the radio.On a fine evening, when all my roommates went out to watch a movie, I secretly approached the radio.’She’ was perched on top of the shelf.As I placed her on the table, an evil grin erupted on my face. Baby, you won’t sing again. One fragile second passed, and without knowing how, I suddenly had an irresistible urge to find out what lay beneath the mesh like holes on the speaker. The physist in me awoke. I poked a metal wire into one of the tiny little holes to receive-only to receive-an electric shock.How exactly this happened still remains a mystery.
This incident hardened my views about the radio. The furious me locked the radio in an unused cupboard under the stairs. I secretly smiled for having had my revenge and slept peacefully that night. No more of ‘Dhoom machale’ anymore. No more of ‘Desi girl’ anymore. Life is beautiful.
Late that morning, when I woke up, my roomie was upset, since the radio was missing.
“Netha, seen my radio?”
“Yes. I saw your radio. I wanted to drown your radio in the well, instead I locked it in a cage – and the cage is under the stairs”, I replied, sarcastically, with an air of coolness.
She looked confused. The whole idea of ‘locking it in a cage’ seemed hard for them to believe. Apparently, they thought that I am being cynical. They didn’t believe me.
The suspects were two girls who lived in the opposite room. They often used to complain that the radio was noisy. Since they had taken away the radio once, naturally they were suspected. They had much pain and difficulty in convincing the others that it was not them who took the radio.
Finally, the day before my departure from the hostel, I felt that they’ve had enough with the missing radio. I organized a meeting to solve the case of the mysterious disappearance of the radio.
All of us gathered in the mess hall.
I stood up.
“Friends, we all know that Sruthi’s radio is missing. Considering that a radio can’t walk away by itself, I seriously doubt-or I’m rather sure-that it has been taken away by one of us.Whoever has stolen the radio, is a genius. We’ve been trying over a week to find you out, but you are too clever to be caught. Now, you don’t have to come forward and admit the guilt, just leave the radio where it was previously. If you do that, I and my roommates will be grateful to you for a lifetime”.With that, I eyed everyone with suspicion and retired to my seat.
On hearing this Sruthi’s eyes welled with tears. Mentioning the radio alone can drive her to tears. Suddenly, she stood up, and asked us one by one :
“Swetha, did you take my radio?”
“Elizabeth, did you take my radio?”
“Netha, took my radio?”
“Yes.I took your radio”.
“Netha, for heaven’s sake, this is serious.Don’t go joking around. Vaisali, did you take my radio?”
That night, I placed the radio right besides Sruthi when she was fast asleep. It was found the next day. I had packed off from the hostel by then.
Many months later, I admitted that it was me who took away the radio.
“Why the hell did you not admit it when you asked you at the meeting?”, Sruthi was furious.
In fact, I DID admit. But nobody believed me.
Sometimes, it is only the idea that people keep in mind, not the words.
Hence, I learnt a great theory in human psychology.
Inspired by Richard Feynman’s book Surely you are joking Mr. Feynman.