Recall: Harish Agarwal

Harish Agarwal, SMIT 2000-2004

"Medic, Medic!" was how the I-3rd floor of SMIT (if you're a regular reader of my Recall series, then by now you must've imagined the I-3rd block already!) would sound during a particular season of our college life. Then a season came when the drone of World War II fighter planes coming from the little computer speakers would fill the corridor for hours at end. And a season when the umistakable blowing of the trumpet warning of a civilization under attack was the sound to look out for. And then a season - the longest one in fact - when the sound of rocket launchers and the BFG* blasting away would reverberate throughout the corridors of the I-3rd block. And everytime, there would always be one guy behind all this.

Meet Haddi, aka Harish Agarwal.

Now, after reading his introduction if you're thinking that this guy must've been a whacko, then you're partly right. But just for the uninformed and the not-so-computer-game-friendly folks out there reading this, the descriptions in the first paragraph are of those computer games that we played in our college days. Including, but not limited to, Quake III Arena, Age of Empire, Dogfighter. And Haddi would be the one supplying (or somehow getting his hands on) these wonderful games.

When I first met Haddi, it was during our infamous "Zitarians" block meet. And my first impression of him was that of an oversmart dude. Seriously. And even today, I still do sometimes.

As the days progressed and we became better friends, we found a common ground : the love for C programming. We would literally breathe C those days. Even in our first semester exam, we both got the same program to write. We got seats next to each other. We both used the same logic (no, we didn't cheat). We both got screwed at the same point. We both got screwed again at the viva. Needless to say, we both flunked the exam.

After the exam was over and we knew we'd flunk, I saw the philosophical Haddi for the first time. He started meditating, spoke of leaving the college and going down to Bangalore. And he almost did. So did I. Almost. But thankfully sense prevailed in Haddi's head and those plans went out of the window. Luckily for me, as you will read later. Else I'd probably be dead by now. How? Well, the story goes something like this...

It was in our 3rd Semester I think. And that was the first time that I was actually doing my assignment myself. My very first such endeavor in my 3 semesters of engineering life. As I was done halfway through the assignment, I stepped out of my room for a smoke break. I was pleased with myself. Then there was a commotion and people started running towards the 7th floor. Some fight, I thought. I don't know how but I ended up there too, and ended up in the thick of the fight in a span of 5 minutes. Next thing I remember is waking up with warm blood flowing all over me. After a while I realized that the blood was mine, flowing from a gaping hole on the back of my head. Somehow I managed to grab some friends who got me down to my room. That was when Haddi saved me. He was the one who cleaned me as I lay shivering, almost senseless and oblivious to the happenings around me. He was the one who applied first aid, bandaged my cracked skull, and sent me off in an ambulance to the nearest hospital. I had to get "3 big stitches" - as the doctor said while he was sewing my skull. And today, I live to tell the tale. For that, Haddi, I'll be eternally grateful to you.

I'll never forget Haddi's confession to a select few Zitarians in a closed room one fine evening. A surprise, that. And the outcome even more stunning. What went inside the room is for us to know and for you to guess. But since its a recall, it just had to be included.

From the family that owns the very popular Metro's fast food joint in Gangtok, Haddi was our momo and kaaju-barfi supplier in college. And how we'd fight for the goodies once he'd come back to the hostel after a short weekend trip home. People would be stuffing momos in their mouth even as they extended their hands to grab more pieces! But they were all satisfying ordeals, no doubt.

In our 3rd Semester Math paper, we had what we called the 'Group' and 'Graph' theories. And they were beyond us. It was only when I reached the 7th Semester did I truly understand the beauty of these theories and also opted for Advanced Math as one of my electives. But in 3rd Semester, it was just way above our heads. Anyway, Haddi was the champ in that subject. And he taught all of us before the paper. And we all cleared it (except some of us, of course). And when Haddi told us that he had also flunked, I couldn't stop feeling sorry for the guy. With just a teeny-weeny bit of laughter, if I may add.

Always a very religious guy, he was one of the regulars at the neighborhood mandir. A teetotaler, and a vegetarian. But I've seen him get drunk once - just once - in the ten years that I've known him. It happened during one of our regular birthday treats well in our early, formative years at SMIT. Yankesh, another friend, literally coaxed Haddi into having a beer and that was enough for Haddi. Later as we were walking back in a state of drunken bliss to our hostel, Haddi told Saibal (yet another friend), "Saibal... kabhi kabhi doosro ke liye bhi peena parta hai..." (English: "Saibal, sometimes we need to drink for others...").

Haddi and I were also team mates during what we called the 'mini project' for our B.Tech. curriculum. 'Mini Project' was during the 7th semester and carried a good piece of marks for all of us. Aah - how we toiled for the project! We meant to design, build and control an electronic car (which we called "CAR": C-Automated Robot) from scratch. And we did in the end. Just that the in-between phase was awesome, grueling and a helluva fun. Right from getting the finances, to ordering of parts from Delhi and Kolkata, to designing the car using our friends from the Mechanical engineering stream, to building the electronic circuits with all the soldering involved, getting the RC motor to work, writing the code, the UI... man, this is one task that still makes me feel so damn proud to have completed it. Like Prem used to say, we should pat ourselves on our backs for a job well done!

The only guy from our group who did the Art of Living course. And actually benefited from it. The guy who spends half of his time in Sweden and the other half in India. But who still hasn't been to Darjeeling from Gangtok.

That's him - our Haddi.

*BFG: Big Fuckin Gun, from the Quake III Arena