Pictionary

This game, introduced in section E by god knows who, fundamentally changed how some of us behaved during the free periods.  Before this phenomenon invaded our lives, we could be found doodling on the last pages, eating, chatting with friends, or just kicking people if the mood was right.(Yes, Amit, don’t try to look innocent.)  Now, however, students could frequently be seen huddling around a chump drawing figures on a blank page. Most of you remember the rules, I am sure, so I will elaborate on some incidents that will change the way you…guess.

Satrajit Banerjee was gravely contemplating the diagram of a bottle. His partner, the painter, I don’t remember who exactly, had tears in his eyes. I later found out that he had been given the unenviable task of describing “Perfume” to Satrajit. When Satrajit continued to look thoughtful, the painter decided to help. He drew an under-arm, and showed, in great detail, the spray coming out of the bottle. Satrajit, it seemed, was determined to get it right in one perfect guess, because he nodded just once before resuming his analysis of the diagram. His partner grunted in disapproval, partly because he didn’t trust Satrajit, but mostly because that was the best he could do without breaking the rules(Remember, you aren't allowed to talk). Satrajit, unmoved by all the grunting, continued to look critically at the bottle. The now frustrated painter decided to take things to the next level. He drew an “axe”, the tool, so that Satrajit could connect it to axe, the deodorant, and then eventually grope his way to perfume. It was a good plan, but we, who knew Satrajit’s dismal record(He had once confidently called the map of Great Britain Tibet), shook our heads. Naturally, we were very surprised when Satrajit treated everyone to a contemptuous smile and stood up to make an announcement. He winked at his partner who beamed right back because he had, in all fairness, achieved the near impossible. Satrajit cleared his throat, and said,”Ekta lok axe diye bogol kaatche.”

That was, and continues to be, the level zero in pictionary.

Raktima Roy once drew a smiley with a tail. She then looked at all of us expectantly. A variety of vacant expressions greeted her along with some stifled laughter. She accepted that with fortitude, and proceeded to improve the diagram. She shaded the smiley, decorated the tail with DNA-esque motifs, and added what looked like hairs to the tail tip. Someone guessed "Species" while some others claimed that it resembled a happy slug. After several such unsuccessful attempts, she told us the answer. "Avatar", she said severely, rebuking us for our incompetence. "You should have at least recognised the neural links.", she added, pointing at the tiny hair like structures jutting out of the tail tip as if it was the most obvious hint in the world. We did not argue.

There are many other pictionary stories, but I will save that for another day. I would like to thank both Satrajit Banerjee and Raktima Roy for their invaluable contribution.