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Rottingbrain Rolls On

By
Professor Madankumar A. Majmundar

Chapter 4

I MEET THE FRESHMEN

I got into the First Year Arts class-room, not without considerable trepidation. Indeed, on my way to the platform, I heard my heart pounding away like mad. You see, a Rottingbrain class means no less than one hundred and fifty buoyant and bouncing boys and girls all out for the professor's blood. These young cannibals are absolutely free to deal with the man on the platform in any way they like. If they eat up one professor, the authorities promptly supply another.


Author Bio

Professor M. A. Majmundar was known for his typical inimitable style of subtle British humour. He was a well known professor of English at Bhavan's College, Mumbai. His literary freelancing across a span of two decades rendered him a very affectionate recognition amongst his readers who could never afford to miss him and were always keen to read and treasure his contributions in Shankar's Weekly (New Delhi) and Amritabazar Patrika (Calcutta). Professor Majmundar has made appearances in almost all contemporary newspapers and periodicals in India. He had the honour of being reproduced in the British digest 'Parade' (London). He is also translated into number of Indian languages .


"Ladies and Gentlemen," I quiveringly began, after having taken my stand on the platform.

A violent bang made me high-jump; it made the class explode in a volley of laughter and clapping. Everything depended upon the way in which I kept my nerve now. I took in the situation at once. The door of the class-room had been wildly flung open so that it dashed against the wall by its side, and a young mandril had shot in as if fired from a circus cannon. This simian seeker after knowledge wore what at the moment was known as the Raj Kapoor style of hair, an intriguingly brief bush-shirt (jet-black with bright yellow hula-hula girls printed on it), parrot green velvet trousers and thick soled chamois leather "rogues". He flaunted a lighted cigarette in one hand and a couple of ragged guide-books in the other.

"You!" I tried to check the young hope of the land as he was speeding in the direction of an empty form. He seemed not to hear me. I was now in full possession of myself.

"You!" I shouted again.

"Me, sir?" the youth asked, breezily, braking up and swivelling round.

"I mean you."

"What can I have the pleasure of doing for you, sir?"

Another broad side of laughter and clapping and stamping from the class.

"Order, Order!" I yelled out furiously.

"Order, Order!" the intruder bawled out. "Ladies and Gentlemen, how can the professor give himself the pleasure of a conversation with me, if you go on making all that noise? Silence, please. Pray, permit the professor to proceed."

The class was now quiet. The cord of stillness vibrated in the room.

"What d'you think you're doing, young man?" I rang out.

"I'm going to my seat, sir," came the placid reply.

"You entered the room without my permission."

"Did I, sir?"

"You did. You ought to have sought my permission to enter the room and take your seat. That's the rule. Breaking of that rule means gross breach of collegiate discipline, and that breach means stern disciplinary action. You can be expelled from college for a thing like that, d'you hear?"

"Dear, dear!" came a mischievous feminine voice from somewhere. There was a general titter.

"Silence!" I thundered.

A palpably sardonic silence.

"What's your explanation for this gross breach of discipline?" I roared at the offender.

"Didn't wish to disturb you, sir," he said, winking at some nearby friend of his.

"You disturbed me all the same."

"Did I, sir?"

"You opened that door stormily, whizzed in stormily, and were heading for that form stormily. In the phraseology of a celebrated British author, the African rhino could have taken your correspondence course in stormy behaviour."

"I wasn't aware of that, sir."

"We shall hence forward take special care to be aware of such things. We shall introduce ourselves into our class-rooms in a manner less reminiscent of a pacific typhoon."

"Hear, hear!" came a masculine voice from one of the back rows.

"What does he mean?" someone queried from the front row.

"Did you get me, young man?" I boomed, ignoring the interruptions.

"Oh, yes, sir," he chortled like an inebriated parrot.

"I see a cigarette in your hand."

"Quite right, sir. Wonderful eye-sight at this age, sir. You must be taking a lot of Vitamin A, sir."

"What's the meaning of that fag?"

"Quite clear, sir. Smoking, sir. Cigarettes are objects meant to be smoked. I am smoking this cigarette. Allow me to demonstrate. Watch me. You suck in the smoke. You then blow it out through the mouth or the nostrils. Thus...Some trick-smokers can let the smoke out of their ears. I cannot. It is one of my ambitions to be able to let the smoke out of my ears, sir. Smoking gives you wonderful pleasure. May I offer you a cigarette, sir? Excellent make, sir."

"You may not. And I do wish you know as much about your books as you do about cigarettes. Now I'll request you to take a trip out of this room, throw away this cigarette, and come back."

"Suppose I drop this period and finish my cigarette outside?"

"We'll suppose no such thing."

"What's wrong with my proposal, sir?"

"Breach of college discipline. You can't smoke within college premises."

"But, sir, won't my cigarette be wasted? We're one of the poorest countries in the world. What right have we to throw away useful and pleasing things?"

"The waste of a cigarette is better than the waste of body mind and soul."

"But, sir..."

"We shall now stop arguing and promptly do what we are asked to do. Taking up the time of the professor and his class also amounts to breach of discipline."

The young blister hesitated, decided to obey, called up the best face and marched out of the class-room in the manner of a crack regiment in a V-day procession. He came in after five minutes. I knew he'd smoked quickly and to completion. I overlooked this.

"Stop!" I once more arrested him.

"Sir?" he wondered.

"Permission!"

"May I come in, sir?" he shrilled, backing away and standing at the entrance.

"One more question."

"Fire away, sir."

"The first time you turned up, you were ten minutes late."

"Seven minutes, sir."

"I greatly appreciate that exactitude. And now with your exact frame of mind, you'll be able to comprehend readily that it does not matter how little late you are; what matters is that you are late."

"But we must never be automata, sir. Machine-like behaviour is bad for man, sir."

"Not always."

"Man cannot be always be on time."

"But he must. Particularly when he is a student at college. And you know my instructions. When you are late, you mustn't insist on getting into the class-room; you must go to the library and read."

"But there are no detective stories in the libraries, sir."

"Library, not libraries."

"And the exams are approaching, sir. I thought I'd be getting some good tips today."

"There'll be no tips, I'm afraid."

Here the whole class sighed like a forest in a gale.

"Pity, sir," the young gumboil said.

"And I find you habitually unpunctual these days."

"There's a reason, sir."

"What reason can there be for unpunctuality?"

"The college starts at seven-thirty in the morning, sir."

"I know."

"I'd have to get up at five in order to be here in time."

"Certainly."

"I cannot manage it."

"And why can't you?"

"My wife is ill, sir, and I have to pass wakeful nights."

"Ah. But I'm amazed. A First Year boy, and married?"

"Is it a crime for First Year boys to be married, sir?"

"Oh, no. But rather early days for marriage, eh?"

"There are other married boys here, sir."

"Dear me. That's remarkable. Most remarkable. Incredible. Well, stand up those who are married."

Two students stood up, blushing richly. A third got on to a form. And a fourth, of visibly advanced age, was up on the shoulders of a stout boy who'd stood up on a form, too. The class roared wildly.

"Silence!" I yelled. There was merciful silence. I never asked you to stand up on that form, young man."

"Sir," he pealed out like a church-bell, "I have a very special reason for standing up on this form."

"And what may that reason be?"

"I wish to be considered superior to those poor kids standing on the floor."

"And why?"

"They are merely married; I have two children." "Ah. And you, sir. What d'you mean by getting atop that boy on the form?"

"Sir," the man of advanced age megaphoned, "I wish to be considered superior to that stripling on that form."

"Why?"

"I am his father, sir."



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