Muran 6 - The dragon tattoo

 Muran - The Dragon Tattoo

    2005 - RVS Engineering college of engineering. On a cloudy Monday, things got out of hand. It felt like everything around me was moving at 2x speed. There was going to be a strike — third-year engineering students were planning to protest against my expulsion from college.

I had no control over anything.
How did I even get here?
What happens next?
Will I be allowed to continue?
How do I face my dad?

So much noise. So much chaos.
And I was at the center of it — doing absolutely nothing.

The actual drama started 3 days ago, on a Friday. My head was already crowded with thoughts. I had wasted my newfound “freedom” during my first two years of college — and now, in my third year, it hit me: we were running out of time.

CGPA mattered.
Internships mattered.
Campus placements and “life after college” suddenly felt terrifyingly close.

So, I switched gears — stopped all the fun stuff and focused on grades. On the outside, I acted cool. Inside, I was in full panic mode.
Because honestly, konjama aattam potten. Hostel join panna first month itself namma aattam start.

Flashback — 2002, 

One day, we came in late for dinner. Warden spotted us and yelled, “ithu thaan time ah?” We tried to eat as fast as we could. We caught our warden bending over backwards for a new late admission hostel girl whose father was a big politician. During dinner, the warden was practically serving her like royalty.

As I got up to leave, she asked me to fetch water for the “IT girl.”

I, in full getthu mode, main character energy, said,
“Ma’am, I can get water for you, but if it’s for her, you can do it yourself.”
and walked out like a heroine in slow motion.
That was my first rift with her.

One evening, around 5:30, there was a knock on my hostel door.
My roommate opened it.

Warden: “Sivarani engae?”
My roommate opened the door wider — there I was, lying comfortably on my bed, eating a bourbon biscuit and reading a magazine.

Warden (fuming): “First year-laye evlo thairiyam de ungaluku ellam?”

Me: I was blank. “Enna mam? Enna pannenu?”
Warden: Come to my room.

She started firing questions one after another —
“Olunga yaaru yaaru enna panenga nu sollidu.”

Me: Mind Voice “ennenamo panrom, ethai pathiketkura nu theriyaliaye”

“Hostel la thum try pannathi therinju pocha?”
“Warden room bell agichu vilandathu?”
“Mess la bribe panni omelette vangunathu?”

Then she dropped the bomb:
“Ennaku ella newsum phone-la vandhuduchu. 8 per class cut pannitu padathukku — athum Kamal padathukku — poirukeenga!
Enna vela pakureenga nu ennai kizhikuranga.

Warden: Amma ne epdi room-la irundhe?”

Cut to Earlier That Day

Lunch break.
Nine of us — a wild gang of girls — were planning to go watch “Anbe Sivam”.

I wanted to join, but I was terrified. If my dad ever found out I cut class for a movie, he’d bury me alive. So I just walked with them till the bus stop, waved goodbye, and went back to the hostel.

She just assumed it would have been me, and was in matniya, today i ll eat you for dinner mode. When she stormed in, she realized I hadn’t gone to the movie. But she knew I knew who did.

She wanted me to name names.
I refused. I wasn’t going to be known as a snitch.

She made me kneel for an hour, but I didn’t budge. She arranged for an emergency roll call; by that time, everyone was back — no one got caught.

That’s how I became a mini legend amongst the first-years.
The warden, however, was pissed.

---

Back to 2005 — The Friday That Changed Everything

I was planning my study schedule. The exam was near. I didn’t have enough time to cover my syllabus. My anxiety was high — if I didn’t pull my CGPA up, I’d miss the campus interview cut-off.

Power was out, so I climbed the stairs to my 3rd-floor room.
That’s when I saw them — a gang of eight girls ragging a second-year junior.

I was already mentally drained. I didn’t want to get involved. I tried to walk past. That’s when Aarthi grabbed my hand.
Aarthi: “Enna Sivarani, 2nd year romba aatam poduraalam ennanu kelu!”
Me: “Ivalam oru aalu. Evata enna time waste pannitu.”

The 2nd-year girl muttered, “Enna neenga ivala oru aalu nu solreenga?”

I wasn’t even talking to her! Apparently, she’d been simmering in silence all this time — and I just happened to walk in when the lid blew off. Wrong place, wrong time, poor me. How could a Junior talk back? The gang erupted. Voices were raised. I warned her to behave and left.

By evening, the warden summoned me.
Of course, the 2nd year girl only remembered my name, coz Aarthi called me by name. 

Before I knew it, it became a 2nd-year vs. 3rd-year issue.
Hostel gossip turned it into a campus war.
Soon, there was talk all about me getting suspended and later it turned into expulsion.

I even overheard someone talking who was going to take my room once I was gone, it had a scenic view.

Even some boys from 3rd year — whom I’d never spoken to — started preparing banners for a strike on Monday. It's not about just me anymore; they wanted a reason to rebel.

---

I was ready to apologize and end all the drama. But my bad luck — I said a few wrong words to the wrong person at the wrong time. That junior was also in full rage, approaching her would only make things worse, I was told.

No going back now.

I was numb.
My life felt ruined.
Outside, the air was electric — everyone was charged up.
Inside, I was collapsing.

---

The Principal’s Office

The crowd followed me to the Administration building, and I went into the principal's cabin.

Principal Karuppanan, in a calm but stern voice:
“We don’t tolerate ragging here.
What’s all this nonsense?
Say sorry to her.”

I did.

My heart was pounding.
I could hear only the squeak of the fan and my own pulse.

I was advised not to write an apology letter, it could be used for expulsion.

Karuppanan: “Write an apology letter.”

I froze. Should I refuse? Should I oblige?
I had no fight left.
Ellam mudinchu. I wrote an apology, handed it to him. I was ready to cry and plead to him.

He looked up and said,
“We had an enquiry with the professors and warden. They all gave good feedback, Mrs.Suguna even vouched for you. We’ll let you off the hook this time. Make it up with your marks. Go to class.”

I couldn't believe it. The moment I left the room, Tears welled up; it also started to drizzle outside.

When I showed thumbs up, the crowd erupted in cheers. Some were actually disappointed — they’d have to go back to class.

Mrs.Suguna, Who?  It's the name tattooed on our warden's forearm.

Just like that Mrs.Suguna mam saved the day.