Love, Stoic & Frustrated Barrel

By Vivek Koka

Purab - Being gifted with exceptional quantitative skills, he’s so caught up in dealing with life in a logical and analytical manner that when true love comes knocking on his door, he’s too busy doing the math.
Prakash - Blatantly possessive about his friend, he withdraws into his cave and behaves in an eccentric manner every time women enter their household.
Sidharth – An atheist as far as love is concerned, he believes everything is fair in his quest for lust. He does experience a genuine bond with Mini Chaturvedi but soon realizes that some men are destined to be predators.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Oct 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9788194804178

Vivek Koka

Master of content, history geek, science nerd, cinema junkie, politics enthusiast, Marvel / DC maniac and a scotch lover, Vivek Koka has now turned an author with his debut novel, ‘Love, Stoic and Frustrated Barrel’.Originally from Hyderabad, Vivek is currently working for a media house in Mumbai. This novel is a light hearted journey of his (sometimes-real-life) mischievous anecdotes and funny situations during his MBA years.He would love to hear from you: [e-mail]

Book preview

Welcome To The Jungle

It was the July of 2001. The gathering sat silent. All 63 occupants in the auditorium resembled dead chairs. No one made the slightest movement. They waited in anticipation for the man in charge to begin. Each one could hear their neighbor breathe, whimper and sigh; like a voice inside their own head. The room was filled with old wooden chairs arranged like the well of a parliament. With each row from the back, the floor dropped by a stair making it a flight of 8 stairs, with the podium at the bottom.

He stood there with his tall lean frame against the sunlight creeping through the window. The light only managed to graze his right profile, which made the left look a shade darker. He stood at the podium with a marginal droop. His hair was well oiled, which ensured not a single strand of hair ended up where it did not belong. He had a well-trimmed moustache, which gave his gentle face a firm countenance. He was dressed in an off-white half sleeve shirt with broad stripes and chocolate brown trousers. He left his shirt untucked, which occasionally flew with the gentle breeze from the fan. He was far from being elegantly dressed but his strong disposition earned him the desired respect.

Good morning, he spoke into the mic.

It was hard to tell if the mic was switched on as his voice was gentle and there was no resonance from the equipment. He spoke slowly and thoughtfully. He carefully chose his words even while greeting someone. Everyone in the room stared at him as if they were hypnotized.

I welcome you to Institute for Development of Management and Research, batch 2001-03. My name is Dr. Mohan A Paluskar. I’m the Director here and have been associated with this institute for over ten years now. To give you a brief introduction; IDMR was instituted in the year 1973 and has the distinction of being the first management institute in Pune. The core belief we closely guard and respect is SDLS. It stands for Self Driven Learning System. Ladies and gentlemen, we firmly believe by coming here, you have made a choice which is apt according to you. And from here on, the onus of making your way into the corporate world lies in your hands. You alone will decide the path ahead. You will set goals and create ways and means of achieving them. What we will do is provide you with adequate resources and facilitate the journey you decide to undertake. I will leave you with this thought for now, Dr. Paluskar said.

He gently nudged the room into a silent seizure. They were bowled over by a doosra as they expected a more professional and articulate keynote address. In the whole speech, there didn’t appear a single acronym from the list they had prepared for, in anticipation of being quizzed. Just like dry leaves disrupted by a gale, slowly the room was engulfed in a disciplined breakdown. The students whispered to their neighbor, unable to comprehend the proceedings.

The class room wasn’t painted in at least five years. Although the paint hadn’t started to wear off, the sheen of a freshly painted wall was no longer visible. The walls were bare on the sides. At the front of the class was a huge 15 feet long black board, which covered a third of the wall. In front of the room was an old table and chair set. At the foot of the table was the first row of chairs, which kept ascending until they reached the other end of the room. In the corner, there was a medium sized notice board, which was again bare.

Settle down please! There is no reason for you to stretch your bodies yet. We do have a recess during the day and the duration is more than adequate to complete all your calls. What we are going to do now is get to know each other better. You might be tempted to get up from your seat and announce to the rest that you have arrived. But it’s more important to understand each other than learn a few irrelevant facts. So what I’m going to do is split this class into 8 groups. I will also be part of one of the groups. Each member in the group will then tell the rest, anything they wish to share. It would be appreciated if it brings to the fore your core attributes, Dr. Paluskar said.

By the way of roll call, the class distributed itself into 8 groups. The last group ended up with one member short, which was completed when Dr. Paluskar joined them. The shoulders in the room dropped as everyone experienced déjà vu. They had been a part of such an activity more than once before and knew how the plot went. Just when they could go about their business, Dr. Paluskar’s voice filled the room again.

There’s another thing you need to keep in mind. You are not allowed to speak. You can’t utter a word. You can use symbols, sounds and expressions to communicate with the group. Now that the ground rules are clear, let’s begin, Dr. Paluskar said.

He immediately headed towards his group which stood in a corner looking confused and nervous. The students by now had stopped anticipating what was to come. They had figured out; this wasn’t a textbook management course they had enrolled for. There was more to it than met the eye.

For the first time in thirty minutes, the students got a good view of the bunch they were going to spend the next two years with. They were a group of colorful people. Guys mostly dressed in either denim and shirts or the regular formal wear. One guy despite being a little taller than the chairs in the room, stood out. He was dressed in an olive green suit, which also happened to be a few sizes large. Almost everyone who passed him during the task took a second look at the oddball of the batch.

The women were clad in an attire which had more variation. While most were dressed in ethnic, some sported the denim. A handful were dressed in knee length skirts. The ratio of women in the batch was a humble 25%, which meant stiff competition among the remaining 75%. Each one scanned the room to swipe left and right in their heads. Although some of them already had a match back home, they continued scanning since as it wasn’t really a crime.

All groups began the task with one candidate trying to communicate with the rest. They tried symbols which only they seemed to understand. They kept mouthing words out of sheer habit. They swallowed their words in an effort to adhere to the ground rule. In a short while the symbols were also accompanied by sounds. Making no progress, more than one student started trying simultaneously. It gradually developed into cross communication within the group. At the end of the stipulated half hour, all reins were lost and the room was filled with cacophony. The most each one knew about the other was their favorite animal, which they concluded from the sounds the others made during the task.

Alright then. Since we know each other well enough, let’s bring our attention back to the course curriculum. I’m going to circulate this document to all of you. Please take time out during the day to understand the course. It may be a good idea to evaluate the options before you opt for one next year. Just to inform you, the course line up in first year is common so you don’t get to choose. Once you complete your first year, you are free to take the specialization of your choice, Dr. Paluskar said.

He leaned towards the girl seated closest to him and handed her the sheets. He asked her to take one and pass the rest. Soon the armrest on all chairs were covered with the handout. Dr. Paluskar discussed the course and the various options with the class. They were fairly satisfied with the way the discussion went for the next hour or so. One very enthusiastic student raised his hand to pose a question.

You may, Dr. Paluskar said raising his palm.

Can you tell us about the placements last year sir?, the boy asked.

He was hoping the next few words coming out of the Director’s mouth would blow his mind away as which MBA aspirant didn’t love the sound of a hefty seven-digit figure followed by the acronym CTC. The Director looked unamused. He gently raised his left eyebrow as a gesture of surprise. He held his eyebrow an inch above where it belonged for another five seconds. He then replied while the eyebrow slowly receded back home.

May I ask, how long have you been here? And how long do you foresee yourself here mister? Dr. Paluskar asked.

There was a hint of disinterest in his response and the tone went a notch higher with the second question. As authoritative and intimidating his voice was, he didn’t sound condescending.

I… guess another two years sir, the boy replied.

He suddenly felt isolated in a room full of people. He felt like he was going to be marched out of the institute while people throwing rotten eggs at him and occasionally shouting shame…shame…shame.

Let me tell you something. The core belief of this institute is that we are in the education of business and not the business of education. We strive to provide you with the right resources and support to complete your education. Job and career are only incidental to your two-year course here. We do have a placement season, which occurs once a year towards the end of the course. That means you have another two years before you get there. So I suggest, you take your course more seriously instead of worrying about your placement, Dr. Paluskar said.

The speech sounded straight from a book which he had written as a reference for questions of this nature. The precision with which he responded indicated the question was on top of the list of FAQs in the induction session.

Since we are done here, I will take your leave and see you tomorrow. But before you pack your bags and get going, have a brief chat with your seniors who are eager to meet you. They are a lovely bunch, so some of you who still have unanswered questions can take it up with them. Good day and all the best, Dr. Paluskar said.

He gradually ascended the stairs which took him to the end of the room. There was a passage right between the chairs for the faculty to walk in and out. After a brief moment of anticipatory silence, the room erupted into whispers. The class then went silent as a group of seniors descended the stairs to the front of the class. Seven of them comprising five guys and two girls stood in front of the class gauging them.

Good morning guys!, one of the enthusiastic students said.

He was hoping to score brownie points with the seniors. Few more vacant moments passed before a loud voice crushed the silence in the room.

Shut the fuck up you lousy bastard, the voice yelled.

The whole class was engulfed in a shockwave. This was not part of the plot. Not in their wildest dreams did they imagine someone using such language in the induction session of a management course. The owner of the voice was no more than 5 feet 4 inches tall wearing horn rimmed glasses. He had fair complexion and was clean shaven. He had short yet untidy hair, which meant he didn’t indulge in his hair. He preferred a short hop to the barber shop over a road trip.

Look down all of you. Who the hell gave you the permission to look up? We are your seniors and expect some bloody respect from you. Haven’t your parents taught you any manners?, he said.

The students couldn’t believe their own ears for a while. Some of them even experienced a culture shock as they weren’t exposed to such language.

For the next two months, you guys will do what we tell you to. Wear what we want you to. Speak only when we ask you to. And if any of you buggers complain about this, we will shove a rod up your ass! This, by no means, is ragging. We call it induction here. So next time you utter the word ragging on this premise, it’s your fully paid funeral. We will begin with your introductions now. Each one of you will come here and tell the whole class your name. And you will add a screwed between your first and last name. Next thing you will tell the class is your sexual preference - male or female! The last thing you will tell us is whether you are a virgin or not. Let me get this clear. Only three things about yourself, as we are not interested in anything else, he said.

Rest of his mates nodded to everything he said. It appeared he was the leader of the tribe and the core strategist too. By now the entire class was staring at their footwear. Every now and then when any of them tried getting a view of what was happening in front, they were yelled at and made to look down again. By then their necks hurt as much as their ears did from the screaming.

One more thing! You have a fucking choice of either opting in or out of the induction. If you opt in, take my word you will have a lot of fun and get to attend kickass parties. But if you opt out, you are going to spend the next one year all alone. Once the joy ride begins, even your own batch mates will disown you for your stupid choice. Well I’m giving you guys the next sixty seconds to decide whether you are in or out, he said and stepped back.

Not fully aware of the repercussions of the choice, all of them decided to follow the herd. If they got slaughtered, at least they didn’t die alone. At the end of sixty seconds, he took a step forward to address them again.

Ok then! Since you have chosen to stay, you will be locked in these dungeons for the next one year, he said.

As soon as he completed his sentence, he let out a loud sinister laughter, which was followed by the rest of his friends. The class suddenly realized they had made the worst choice of their lives. Each one came to the front and followed the code of introduction. Just then came to the fore a pretty girl. She was taller than an average Indian woman and had dusky complexion. She sported a boy cut and was dressed in a blue denim and white top. She carried herself well despite not having an hourglass figure. Although she wasn’t obese, she had a butt that made all the five male heads in the room turn as she descended the stairs. Each one of them checked her out from top to bottom for negatives. They didn’t seem to find any, as she was well endowed.

I’m Soumya screwed Naidu. My preference is male and I’m not a virgin, she said.

She smiled and began to walk back to her seat. Just then the whole class stared at her with mouths wide open. Suddenly the class completely ignored the instructions and raised their necks in excitement to get a glimpse of the voice.

Shut up! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?, he asked.

You asked me if I was a virgin. I told you the truth. What were you expecting?, Soumya replied arrogantly.

First of all, every bloody sentence of yours better start with sir or ma’am and end with one too. So listen here Soumya screwed Naidu! If you don’t plan to respect your seniors, I suggest you find yourself a way of getting through this year too, he said.

He shoved his finger at her ordering her to get back to her seat with no further ado. Then came another lad, who looked no older than 22. He was fair, well-built but didn’t carry his frame too well. There were signs of hesitation and nervousness in his walk. He came and stood at the front and could only notice scalps of his friends. He wore black glasses through which could be seen a squint in his right eye. It seemed like he had a strange infection, as he kept batting his eyelids every other second.

I, myself Bhushan Dharman from Shimla sir. I... I…would like to expatiate…, Bhushan said before he was interrupted by a female voice.

Shut the fuck up! No one cares where are you from, how many times in a day you masturbate and whether you are circumcised or not. The rule is simple. Why can’t you fuckers follow the damn rule?, she yelled.

She stood there in the middle of the class taking charge from the leader. She was no more than five feet tall, dressed in mauve salwar kameez. She had a circular face with a spotless complexion. She had her hair tied behind in a ponytail and stood like a towering giant despite her short frame. Her voice was loud and menacing too. She was at least 25 kgs overweight and sported two half sized footballs for a chest. It would have taken a lot of effort to get to her, if you ever hugged her.

Hearing a female voice, the tired but inquisitive class tried taking a peep at her. They were once again summoned to look down. Just before they could get their heads down, she bent down to pick up her hair band she had dropped. With a hint of carelessness, she made no effort to shield her cleavage on her way down to the floor. Suddenly for a brief second, the whole class could see right through her kameez and were treated to some visual splendor. For the first time in the last two hours, the boys had a smile on their faces. The induction continued for another few hours as twenty-five more seniors joined the party eventually.

The class wondered if they had been set up. Whether they had come to the right institute. All their myths about a management course and the suave job that followed were dispelled. They even began to wonder if the elderly gentleman who claimed to be the Director of the institute was one of them. They were tired so their ability to comprehend the environment had deserted them. They were waiting for the day to end so that they could run away and never look back. Some of them had already finalized the train schedule back to their hometown. They wondered if they were ever going to leave the institute.

It was 7 pm and there was no sunlight. The tribe began to hunt in packs by then. All the women were carefully segregated and inducted by a separate bunch of seniors. Lust began to burst out of the seams as each senior by then had identified their potential targets. The pretty ones were granted exemptions such as sitting beside the seniors, while the rest had to stand with their heads down.

Trying to be subtle yet authoritative, some of the seniors had started making an impression on the women. By now the arrogant and curt tone was replaced by a warm disposition. The seniors played the good cop after having spent the whole day being the bad one. Like a forest fire, the news of Soumya Naidu had spread across the campus. Seniors who weren’t even on campus that day made their way to take a good look at the self-proclaimed non-virgin. Everyone tried making conversation with her hoping to bait her.

Outside the classroom was a large quadrangle with a concrete floor. It was sprinkled with trees on the corners and was surrounded by various buildings of the institute. It was walled by classrooms on two of its sides. On one side was the Director’s room and the administration block adjacent to it. In one corner was an old Peepal tree. It was fenced with six feet by six feet concrete platform, which was raised about four feet off the ground. This made a good seating space for students in the recess. It could hold ten to twelve average sized people if there were ready to accommodate themselves without complaining about the comfort. It was called the Bodhi tree; just like the one Lord Buddha had settled under to attain enlightenment.

On the opposite side was a weird shaped auditorium which could seat more than two hundred and fifty. It had two passages on either side which led to the library. There was a small patch of land in between filled with small bushes. It was neatly maintained through regular watering and weeding. Small benches were scattered on this patch which were often used by students to read when the library shut.

A small pack of seniors assembled around the Bodhi tree and cornered a fat boy. He was dressed in blue jeans and white shirt. The tuck of the shirt was all over the place, though not fully undone. His sleeves were folded to his elbows and so were his jeans to his ankles. He wore a pair of sneakers, which were white and blue. His 38-inch waist bestowed him with a choice which lean guys didn’t have. He could either wear his denim above the tummy or let it hang right below. He always chose the latter. He wore a leather belt, which under the weight of his tummy often ended up being twisted at the buckle. He had wheatish complexion and sported a clean shave. His hair was oiled just enough to keep it in place. He had a round yet loveable face which complimented his weight.

My name is Siddharth screwed Rai sir!, he said.

He had been through the rigor over a hundred times during the day.

Listen fat boy! Your folks have fed you more than what you need in this lifetime. So, we are going to do a liposuction on you to bring you back to an appreciable shape. Would you like that?, the senior asked.

Siddharth was neither amused nor intimidated. He had encountered bullies all his life and knew well how to put them in their place.

"I’d