22. Workshops

The very first summer we were suppose to take training at our college’s workshops. Each branch was split into two to three batches and each batch had to go through eight different workshops like carpentry, sheet metal, auto shop, electric, foundry, welding, machine shop and smithy. In those hot summer days we began with the sheet metal shop, Depesh and I were in one group because our names began with alphabets that were relatively closer together D and H, while Bhupi and Tazzy were together in the other group because of their alphabets M and T. They began with electric shop making circuits and fitting wiring on a practice board. While on the other hand we guys had to beat the shit out of this sheet metal with a wooden mallet and turn it into some good shape, a box. It was hot and all the beating made it even hotter we guys went to drink water once every fifteen minutes. It was sweaty especially because of those brown workshop coats. In the second week we were in the smithy shop, this is when lady luck came Depesh’s way or so it seemed. Here we had to beat the shit out of a piece of red hot iron and make a chisel out of it. And this time we had to beat with a heavy iron hammer. As a coincidence our group was paired with a group of computer’s branch and it had some half a dozen pretty girls.

On the first day late afternoon everyone was winding up his or her job with people helping one another making chisels. Almost everyone was done but for four of us. Depesh was helping me hammer the piece into shape, when this pretty girl from computer’s branch walked up to us and said,
“Will you help me with this please?” it was for Depesh to help her because he had the biceps. Only a fool would say no and Depesh didn’t.
“Okay” he said and went out to help her leaving me to fend for myself, ‘sala kutta’. And from that day on he helped her everyday, one day beating the hoe, another day making a sickle, then a hook and so on. He kind off ignored me, he was falling in love with her and she too approached him everyday. Depesh would come back to the hostel and tell us stories how he was progressing that he had found the love of his life and so on. Finally we moved on to the next workshop and our groups split. Now when Depesh tried to approach this girl she ignored him heartlessly and stayed with her own group. Depesh tried desperately but she finally ditched him, he was heartbroken,
“Bitch was only interested in me because I could beat the hammer for her”
“Ha ha”
“Ladkiyan hoti hi esi hain…”
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ho ho ho ho ho ho…” it was funny, his situation, girl ditching him after getting her work done from him,
“I feel like a donkey”
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ho ho ho ho ho ho…”

And so it went on the entire summer, sometime it got so hot that we were tempted to hunt for some home made cold drink, lemon water et al. when there were no lemons we took turns and barged into Tazzy’s room and said,
“Yaar sharbat pila de” his mummy had specially sent it for him, a big jar of sharbat concentrate. When I called upon him pleading like a beggar, he first had a good laugh at my act,
“Allah ke naam pe sharbat pila de baba” I pleaded. Then he got up and religiously prepared sharbat for me putting two spoonfuls of sharbat concentrate and cold water from his cello ‘super cooler’ container, then stirring it. When he offered that glass to me and I had that first sip,“Ummm, ahhhhh” it felt like heaven, it was so damn refreshing, sweet and cool, so damn well prepared. I couldn’t thank him enough for a glass of sharbat…