The condensed milk ritual and the passage to manhood

Dating back to sometime between 1873 and now, the condensed milk ritual was born in Mayo College (other boarding schools may have their own legends, but this is ours.), Ajmer. It all began the first time a hungry schoolboy from the aforementioned institution tasted the thick, gooey and sickeningly sweet syrup someplace under the sun (or moon, depending on the time of day). The moment was glorious. Legend has it that as soon as the creamy goo touched his tongue an actual lightbulb lit up above his head. The light from this bulb was seen for miles away leading to the myth that a star had burst very close to the Earth, say a few million light years away, give or take a few.

Right away the young lad knew that the concoction he had in his possession was a true gift from the Gods. It was sticky, had no nutritional value and was so horrendously sweet that it could have you throwing up within a few seconds of chugging it (which could only be done straight from the tin via two scientifically calculated holes drilled using a protractor). Yes, this would make the perfect drink for pre-pubescent dorm parties where fraternal bonds were formed.

As the boys get older this bonding ritual is then performed by the consumption of copious quantities of tobasco sauce staight from the bottle (see who can drink the most, and who can drink this and not have any water for the longest time are the favourite versions of this game), which then gives way to the sniffing of glue or other intoxicants like thinner and white ink (at least in the case of some kids, while a vast majority give this stage a skip and graduate straight to the next one) and finally to the final stage (this one goes on for the rest of a man's life, or at least till a doctor puts a stop to it for health reasons) consumption of large quantities of alcohol over which many a brotherly bond is formed and even the most macho of men can be seen breaking down like blubbering idiots.

And that is how the condensed milk ritual makes a man out you!

Here are a few shots of my dad's cousins reminiscing about the good old days by knocking back a few cans of milkmaid.



Let the games begin!





Chug! Chug! Chug!





Now why don't you try some?





Ohmygod! I can't believe she did that!




Ohmygod!I can't believe I just did that!




There, there.. It's not that bad. Let me show you how it's done!




..and that is how it's done!



Well this is the authentic way. Remember?


Two holes on the lid (now the base, because the lid can easily be opened nowadays).




Salud!



Not one to shy away from anything that make most normal folk cringe, I too joined the party!
Not too bad, but I wouldn't make this my regular poison.




And then there were some who bravely raised the cup to their lips.....



.....only to let it fall...and then run off into the darkness, presumably to be sick.

The story of my first ever painting exhibition

The first time I ever exhibited my paintings at a location that wasn't home or the fine arts classroom at school, was back in 2001. It was a school sponsored show at the India Habitat Centre, where the best of the best from our school were selected to display their works (yes, I'll take the opportunity to brag whevever I can present it to myself!). Couldn't have asked for a better platform to launch a career in art!

But as a 16-year-old from an all boys boarding school, the exhibition to me, was merely an excuse to spend a few days in Delhi, officially bunking school and ogling girls. There were a few specimen from our sister school Mayo College Girls' school floating around the Visual Arts Gallery, but these ladies, with all due respect to them, were always wrapped in a drab beige coloured curtain, which along with a red chunni made up their uniform, and all in all did not really make for good eye candy.

So with my only other classmate who had managed to make it to the exhibition in tow, we spent most of our waking hours slipping away from the IHC to sit on the steps outside Mcdonalds in GK-I's M-block market watching the girls go by. I'd like to make one clarification at this point... not once did we speak to, or attempt to speak to, or even think about attempting to speak to any female human being during the many hours we spent birdwatching.

Also important to note is that any time that we did spend at the exhibition was utilised wisely to fabricate elaborate plans to somehow break out of the youth hostel where we were residing and take in the nightlife of Delhi. The closest we got to doing this was when my parents, who had come down for the exhibition, took the lot of us out for an early dinner only to deposit us safely back to the hostel before 10'o'clock. And anyone who has lived in Delhi can tell you that no one even leaves home to party before 10pm!

With hindsight, we really didn't manage to accomplish anything at the time, but while we were out checking out the chicks, I did manage to sell a couple of paintings for a sum of money that I never got to see. Then there was the one painting that was presented (free!) to former senior BJP minister and alumnus of the same school as your's truly, Jaswant Singh Jasol, as a token of the school's appreciation for the time he took out to be the chief guest at our exhibition. Well even though it was given away for free, ever the media savvy professional, I managed to get some mileage out of the actual presentation, which made for a brilliant photo op and later on led to a little writeup in The Tribune. Of course, at the time I have no idea what being media savvy or getting my picture in the paper meant, aside from more bragging rights back at school.

For those interested, here's a link to the story published in The Tribune: A cornucopia of artistic talent offers a visual treat
http://www.tribuneindia.com/2002/20020125/ncr2.htm

P.S. At the time of this first exhibition I wanted to be a human rights lawyer!