This Gurukul was located in the outskirts of the city we lived in. It was a long four hour journey by car and knowing that I often get motion sick, I placed my head on my mother's lap and dozed off until we reached the main gate of the campus. There was already a huge line of cars responsible for dropping off children and their parents, while the older students kept peeking inside the cars, curious about their new juniors. I wondered when I would meet my acquaintance from the hell teaching classes and whether the guy sitting beside me during the parent interviews got accepted. The part of the campus we went to was only meant for the first three classes. For students in secondary school a different part of the campus was reserved. There were four huge buildings covering the four sides of a rectangular park that took up the center of this sub campus. There were people everywhere. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of people that were milling about within this small area. There were fathers carrying huge steel trunks, mattresses and buckets. Some were even holding huge rations of snacks that was more than enough for lasting a week until they can come visit their child again. Waterworks have already started among the families who were leaving early because they still had a long way to go back. My old habit of observing people and guessing their recent past and future kicked in. I imagined the parents supporting each other holding back tears in a train compartment returning to an empty home that once had the laughing, crying and voices of their child. Do they have a sibling? If yes then they would get much more attention from now on I guessed. I glanced at my father walking beside me but decided not to imagine any further. He was the one who wanted to come here the most after myself and my grandmother. But my mother was already a wreck. I could sense her nervousness and her determination to not start crying right now. My brother had already left home for college one year ago, in a different state and now her home will truly be empty. I couldn't help imagining her completing all the household chores and sitting around bored, either going through our photographs or starting new soap operas on television. There was no one to fight for the TV remote anymore, she would think and again hold back a new batch of tears. Her life usually revolved around me and my brother and now that we were away I wanted her to start thinking about taking up a hobby that she liked again. Maybe she can teach the kids in the neighbourhood chanting like she taught me in childhood? Hopefully she won't be as strict as she was with me, or all the students will surely flee after one or two classes. Chanting was an art form where you have to memorize verses in Sanskrit, the ancient language that was used to write Vedas, channel the words from your diaphragm to make it feel like the words were coming from your chest instead of your throat. My grandma told me that the process was way more complex and that I was only taught a simpler version that my mother inherited from her father and that it involved vibrations or frequencies. Saying the words alone without their proper frequencies and pronunciation will have no effect. I didn't miss that and pushed her further, asking what happens if we do it correctly.

"You can't even imagine what happens. You feel like you're connected, as if you finally filled yourself with something that was once 'you' long ago but was lost. Your grandfather taught me only one verse in a correct manner and only once. I never felt that again in my whole life." She had said.

I was really surprised that she even talked this much. People usually would act all mysterious and tell us to figure it out ourselves. I realised I had lost focus and concentrated on my surroundings once again. There were two little shrines in the central recreational area, one at each end of the same diagonal from the upper left to lower right. One of the sides had a bird enclosure at one end and I could see a lake behind one of the boarding buildings. Will they be here? I got excited at the prospect of finally meeting monitor lizards but soon realised that it was the building for seventh standard students, where I'll go after two years. I have to sneak in sometime.

We moved towards one of the two buildings that was responsible for holding half the sixth and fifth standard students. Apparently we will be allocated a senior, one for each of us, who'll mentor us on the routines and rules for one month. He will be held responsible for any mischief we commit. We found out the room we were allocated to from a list set up on one of the noticeboards at the entrance. The building I was in had a placard over the entrance which read Ashwatthama Bhavana. Ashwatthama was one of the eight immortals in Hindu Mythology I recalled from my grandma's stories, he was the son of Dronacharya, mentor of the main heroes in Mahabharata. We have eight classes from five to twelve and eight buildings for each of them, named after the eight immortals who are said to be still alive, meditating in some remote corner of this world. Only Ashwatthama and Kripacharya 'Bhavanas' which simply means abode, had students mixed up from the two youngest classes. A smile crept up my face as I saw that Saiyan was allocated in the same room with me. The other two guys were named Anik and Dweep. Did they allocate us in the order of interviews? Guess they kept the names in the list as it is and did not randomise them.

"Yo!" I waved my hand with a grin from outside the door of my room, as Saiyan stood up from his crouched position in front of his steel trunk and walked up to me.

"Yeah, I was also surprised." He nodded as we shook hands arm wrestling style. Both mine and his parents were surprised by our behaviour. Looking around I saw that the other two guys haven't arrived yet. There were three beds in the opposite end of the room and another beside the door perpendicular to the other three spanning a window that faced the corridor. The other three beds also had a window each that opened up to a messy area filled with shrubs and random clutter, possibly chucked from the floors above. The door was situated on the left bottom corner of the room and had a wardrobe with four panels lining the left wall, there was also a rope that spanned the middle of the room from left to right probably for hanging our clothes and tying the ends of our mosquito nets. My father started chatting up with Saiyan's family and we found out that they lived in the north of our state where my father once used to work. While the two fathers instantly bonded, our mothers looked awkwardly at each other decided to start unpacking things from the suitcases.

"When did you arrive?" I asked scanning through his trunk to see how he was setting things up. There were two sets of traditional wear, three sets of normal pants and round necked Tshirts folded properly.

"We will get our school uniforms a few days later after they take our measurements I guess" Saiyan stated bluntly, "Have you seen the color? They're really bland..."

"Let's not talk about the uniform in my previous school. Anything will be better than it." I remembered my light yellow and brown pant set from my previous school. No one said it outright, but I'm sure I looked like a clown in that.

" You brought stocks?" He asked, pointing at two huge plastic bags that took up most of the space in his trunk. I could see potato chips and biscuits inside. " You can't tell anyone that I have lots, I gathered info that the wardens often seize our stocks if we have them in excess. I have a bait lying in my wardrobe with three biscuits incase they arrive for an inspection." He completed his explanation looking smug.

"Bro, if they come, the first thing they'll check is your trunk. And especially so when yours is as big as that." I compared both of our trunks. While mine was a cuboid of dimensions nearing 120cm x 70cm x 40cm, his trunk exceeded my one by about a dozen centimetres on all three dimensions."They'll check for people inside yours before looking for stocks..."

"Heh!" He snorted as my mind went into overdrive. This sound of him laughing reminded me of my dreams. Was it you? I thought. The one who was standing on that snake's corpse? Saiyan was already quite tall, two or three inches more than me. And he was as thin as a stick. He had quite the tanned skin as if he had spent a lot of time causing mischief out in the sun. But he was still quite far away from the godly physique I had seen in my dreams. It will take me more than a few lifetimes and some genetic modification to even come close to that.