20th
Year Reunion - A Farce : Dr. Denniskumar S. (
view bio )
It was 7.00 when I arrived at the silver jubilee auditorium.
I must admit that I felt not just a little trepidation
as I parked my car in a lot. Perhaps it was the campus
that had changed so much as to give that particular
hint of unfamiliarity that always makes you uncomfortable
when you return after a long time; perhaps it was
the fact that I was going to see some of the people
who had studied with me, and who I hadn’t heard
from for the last 20 years. Yes, The 20th year reunion
of the ’96 Batch was underway, and I was about
an hour late.
As
I neared the entrance of the auditorium, I could hear
music and laughter coming from within and I became
acutely aware of the fact that I had come alone. The
invitation had said Dr. Dennis Kumar and spouse, and
I didn’t have the time to hire one. You see,
ever since I got divorced from my third Bollywood
filmstar wife three years back, I had decided to finally
kick the marrying habit.
It took me a few seconds to get used to the bright
lighting. An A. R. Rahman tune which was popular about
20 years back was blaring away in the foreground.
There was a largebanner
made out of black felt and strewn with glitter that
said WELCOME ‘96Batch hanging from the stage
curtains.
Just
with in the doorway there was a table with a man and
a woman sitting behind it. Upon the table were placed
name - cards, one for each student of our batch. The
woman who was one of the largest people I had ever
seen in recent times, looked at me expectantly. “Dennis
Kumar”, I said.
“Dennis,
is that really you?!”, she exclaimed gleefully.
I glanced at her own nametag. It said JOAN. “Look
Jeevesh, it’s Dennis”, she said to her
companion, and then turning to me,” we can barely
recognize you. What happened to your face?”.
I felt the long scar running down the rightside of
my fore head-a going gift from my second wife, the
tantrum queen. I shook hands with both of them (I
noticed that Joan’s plump digits completely
enveloped mine). For some reason, I was glad that
I had met these two first.
“I see that you have finally managed to gain
some weight, Joan” (quite possibly, the understatement
of the century).
“Oh, stop it, you”, she said giggling.
I then turned to look at Jeevesh, who had been one
of my best friends in college. He looked nothing like
his nickname from the old days. The guy was built
like a bodybuilder. The transformation was amazing.
“So what have you two been upto all these years?”
“I work as a nutritionist in a private hospital
in Bangalore”, came the reply from Joan. I could
feel my right eyebrow raise itself involuntarily.
I looked over to Jeevesh, who has been the strong
silent type.
“I am the chief of O6 unit”
“You mean OR6, don’t you dear fellow?”
“No, I mean O6”’, he said, this
time hesitating a little. This was a little too much
for me and I let out a half suppressed giggle, which
I sort of managed to convert into a cough at the last
minute.
“He’s
going to be the youngest HOD in the history of the
department”, said the ever-supportive Joan.
“Any
kids?” I asked quickly changing the subject.
“I have a beautiful daughter”, said Joan.
“She just joined for her MBBS in AIIMS”,
she added with a proud twinkle in her eyes.
“My
wife just delivered our sixth”, said Jeevesh.
“Wow”
“What about you Dennis?”
“I’m currently doing a little GP in Aryanad.
My wife couldn’t make it”.
“You mean, you got married a forth time?”
asked Joan inquisitively.
Rats!! Hadn’t counted on a woman of Joan’s
stature (both literal and otherwise) having to keep
up with the latest Bollywood gossip. I changed the
subject again.
“So where is your husband, Joan?”
“Johnnn!!” she bellowed into the group
of people closest to us. She lumbered off in that
direction. I got a mental image of a man quivering
in fear at the sound of her voice.
“John”, I looked questioningly at Jeevesh.
“No, no. For goodness sake, not our John”,
he said grinning for the first time that evening.
The grin quickly turned into a frown.” I’m
afraid he won’t be out on parole for another
six months.”
As he said that Joan came back, dragging a thin reed
of a man behind her.” This is my loving husband”.
I shook hands with the man.” And this is Dennis”,
she added.
“We were just talking about John Retnakumar”,
said Jeevesh, this time trying to take an active participation
in the conversation. Joan then went to tell me John’s
sad tale. Apparently he had gotten himself involved
in the whole “ganga therapy scandal”.
I left Joan and Jeevesh, who continued discussing
John and his predicament. I recognized a few of the
others, but I had little inclination to talk about
my life. So I kept to myself.
I went to the refreshment table and picked up a glass
of juice from the many that were placed upon it. I
stood by the table, trying to look engaged in deep
thought while taking sips from my glass. Meanwhile,
I continued studying the faces around me, trying to
recognize them, rather than merely reading their nametags.
I noticed that the woman refilling her glass at the
table was doing so for the fourth time in the last
10 minutes.
“Thirsty?” I asked loudly, sneaking up
behind her. She jumped three feet in the air and let
out a loud squeal of surprise, almost spilling her
drink.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?”
She took a quick look at my name-tag.” Oh, it’s
just you”, she said realizing funnily enough
that it was indeed me .A young man came running up.
“Is everything alright?”
“Relax sonny boy”, I said, taking him
for one of the catering staff.” It’s all
under control”.
“It’s okay, dear. Dennis over here was
just being a jerk, as usual”. She emptied her
glass in one gulp to settle her nerves, and then turning
to me said "This is my husband Pappan”
But by now I was used to the surprises that kept coming
my way, what with Joan being a whale, Jeevesh going
to be the HOD of O&G and John being in jail.
“My! They are making them younger and younger
these days, aren,t they?” I said as I shook
his hand.
“Shut up Dennis. He’ll be 33 this December”,
Elizabeth replied, laughing. Except for a few grey
hairs here and there, she hadn’t changed much.
She was still the same cute, little girl from 20 years
back, except for this newly discovered interest in
young men (what was that all about?).
As
I chatted with her I discovered that my ambivalent
attitude towards this reunion was changing. When I
had come here this evening I had been insecure about
how my life would appear to my old friends. I had
assumed that when a comparison came up my life would
appear the dearest. I was afraid that I would be branded
a failure. But after meeting some of my old friends
and listening to their stories, I realized that their
lives were as goofy as mine, if not more so. And suddenly,
it didn’t matter anymore that I thought my life
was inadequate.
After Elizabeth, I met each and everyone of my classmates,
that is, the ones that were there. I asked each one
his or her life. I craved the tiniest, most mundane
details of their existence. I regretted that I didn’t
have a notebook to jot down all the details. I sorely
missed some of my closest friends, though Paul, who
had given up medicine to become a man of the cloth,
was doing missionary work in Uganda. Prasanth. P.
or P.P as he was fondly known in the old days was
in re-hab for his severe drinking problem. Abhishek,
who had had a mental breakdown making all his millions,
had devoted his life to the service of the less fortunate
and was doing charity work in the slums of Bombay,
and K.K.V. who had formed the band “The Willy-Nillies”
about five years ago was currently in the U.S. touring
with his all-girl teenaged bandmates.
By
the end of the evening I was practically glowing with
content. I no longer felt alone in the world. It didn’t
matter to me that I was a three-times divorced 45
year old who had to get by on a G.P’s salary
in Aryanad. I am one of the ’96 Batch. I would
never be alone as long as I remembered that. In a
way we are all stuck with each other.
As
I got ready to call it a night I saw her coming in.
She was the last one to arrive that night, and most
of the others had already left. Twenty years ago,
she had been to me what the little red-haired girl
was to Charlie Brown-the unattainable. I had had a
crush on her for most of the 5 years I had spent in
the medical college 20 years back. I noticed that
she was alone.
