You never forget it. And I dont either. Because sometimes, Its the only one you got. After reading Ganja Turtle's blog on our long-gone quizzing life, my wheel-chair bound memory galloped into a staggering sprint. There is so much to write about - winning, losing, swearing, whooping, hi-fiving, nail-biting, disgracing, elevating. So after carefully treading through the lot, I decide on this narrative, one of the earliest quizzes when Ganja and I partnered.
Back in the spring of 97, when ganja turtle was lean-and-mean with a 3.14-pack abs (you really have to see it to believe it. But I would advice that you try it on an empty stomach) and I was slowly learning the ropes in the quizzing profession adjusting to an unwashed jeans and hawai slippers, we left for coimbatore to participate in an intra-college fest called Confluence hosted by GRD college. Those were the days when the rest of the world always thought that madurai was a black hole fit only to release new vijayakanth movies and the natives were equipped with a Standard Issue sword three feet in length which was used to end disputes amicably. Some conceded that we might be able to spell the word "quiz". So, when we cleared the prelims and made it to the finals, we wouldnt be surprised if our prelims paper was double-checked just so to make sure.
As is a tradition in most college quizzes, the quizmaster had his own favorite team, whom I would call bunchajokers for want of a better name. We largely went unnoticed. One would expect that all this seemingly insulting techniques would make us roar and get pumped up. But since the ganja turtle couldnt care less and I care even lesser, we still remained with that half-doped look.
Now, I would like to give a brief peek into our long-running relationship with Dame Luck. When we wink at Dame Luck for a harmless coffee, she doesnt stop at turning us down. She either calls her body-builder brother or Assistant Commissioner father or kicks us hard in the solar plexus. On our better days, she does all three. That day just happened to be one of our best days.
The quiz was turning out to be predictable. Bunchajokers giving the right answer, the whole crowd applauding like they won a lottery, the rest of the teams fighting for the second place and we falling back upon "Pass" as the universal answer. Half-way through, we were still admiring at the big egg we had against our name and Ganja was losing it. Now, those were the times where I was out in the team for nothing more than moral support and chat company. If Ganja wasnt going to answer, the quizmaster might as well move to the next team. But since he doesnt know all that, he proceeds with his question. Something I suspect he asked to help us get on the scorecard. "Long, Fine, Short. If you add the word 'leg' to all of the above, with which game would you associate the phrases to??". They say when you are about to die, your whole life pans in front of your eyes. When you are in the gutters in a quiz, you forget your own name. With Ganja refusing to even hear what the quiz master says, I took the liberty to give it a shot. Three fateful seconds later, I gave him an answer. "Football". Freeze. This is a landmark moment. One I could proudly write as a note and pass for a valid reason in commiting suicide. Imagine being bred in a cricket-crazy country. Imagine remembering all useless cricket statistics about Gary Sobers having the record for the highest score in a maiden century. Imagine talking for hours about cricket with all your friends. Imagine associating "Long leg, Fine leg and Short leg" with football after having a mental breakdown in front of a crowd of good-looking coimbatore chics. Do you feel like mail-ordering me a shotgun ?? The collective "oooohhhhh" from the audience touched new levels in the disgust-meter.
With absolutely no respite, the gruelling quiz went on with us adamantly refusing to get on the board. When all hope was lost, Dame Luck, who had previously beaten us to pulp, turned back and gave a teasing smile. As every quizzer would know, a question that you would love to crack always goes to the next team on the list, thereby making it go through the longest of orbits before it reaches you. Usually, the team just before you in the list cracks it in the last second and leaves you heart-wrenched making you dive headfirst into alcohol after the quiz gets over. "Who was the first Indian sports personality to be signed by Pepsi". I lifted up my head like a man who went hungry for 1 week would do when he hears the word "gruel". "Sachin" (God, let this come to me). "Jadeja" (You know how much this means to me). "Pass" (There, There, Easy) "Time's up" (keep it coming, keep it coming) "Azhar" (I am not asking for a win, Just save us from total disgrace, will ya) and "American College, you have an answer ??". Summoning up all my energy, I muster "Kapil Dev". Freeze frame again. Moment of truth. Dame luck now gives a shy smile. "And finally", says that megalomaniacal patronising buckethead quizmaster "american college gets on the board. give them an applause people". For the first time, I realised an applause isnt pleasant all the time. Sometimes its like someone accidentally caught you when you were blabbering your girl friend's name in the sleep. Embarassing.
But what this meant was Ganja had finally woken up from his slumber. I think the fact that I answered a question would have made him seriously think about life, universe and everything. In any case, that meant that Ganja was back in the groove. In other words, everyone better run for cover. Suddenly, the entire scene changed. With a blistering rear-guard attack, Ganja brought us into contention for a podium when the rapid fire round started. Every other team, which had looked like hotshot cowboys, had to stand aside when big-daddy revved up his sixshooters. Ganja went murderous. We stacked points. The other teams gasped. Dame luck just beckoned us to sit with her on a big mahogany table for dinner. At the end of the carnage, We were tied for the first spot with bunchajokers and the contest, which was a no-contest until Ganja woke up, went into a tie-breaker.
The tie-breaker is Dame Luck's favorite round where she throws a stilletto at us and proceeds to watch us die slowly. Tie-breaker. One question. Winner takes all. With all the infinite amount of wealth displayed by the organisers, they forgot to get buzzers for the quiz and so it was upto good-old "raise your hand first". "If A is Alpha and B is Beta, What is E". Two hands went up in the air in unison. That smug-looking bugger in bunchojokers and Ganja. "Ah, I think bunchojokers went first. I am sorry American College", the know-it-all quizmaster had a look in his eyes which said "get it over with guys, a team from madurai in the finals in itself is too hard to handle, them winning will be catastrophe". Smug-looking bugger gives his answer without a hesitation. "Gamma". There. Freeze frame. Reality strikes. All the hard work, down the drain. So near yet so far. Always the bridesmaid, and never the bride. Another day at work. Dame Luck's Coup-de-Grace. The quizmaster had a look on his face like he got a pile-drive. "Thats Incorrect. And the winner is ....American College, Madurai". If I were to weigh the incredulity in his voice in Gold, I could buy Fort Knox twice over. I also remember counting exactly six pairs of hands clapping. All our classmates who had disowned us after my "football" answer. The rest of the crowd was busy acknowledging the existence of Madurai in the Tamilnadu provincial map. Dame Luck hadnt deserted us. She had given us a peck on the cheek.
As me and Ganja walked down the stage to raucous screams demanding us to throw few whiskeys for the night, I told Ganja "Cool da .. But i wish if we had cracked it than winning it by default. He should have asked you the question.". Ganja, in his drawly voice says, "But I didnt know the answer".
"But .. But .. You raised your hand, you moron".
"Yes, I did".
"What if he had asked you the question ??"
"We would have lost", said Ganja, matter of factly.
Freeze frame. Dame luck didnt give us a peck on the cheek. She gave us a full-blooded, deep-throated, french kiss.
Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...
