The Whistleblower

My high school is finally over (it’s been two months already)! And the 10 years of boarding life. Now there’s no need to have any secrets and stories not to be told, so I will become the whistleblower for a lot of upcoming posts. In fact, I might start yet another series of posts where I will whistle-blow things that are supposed to be secrets. I start the series with the story of the whistleblowers that were already there in the school. Hope I am killed for this series.

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Some secrets are supposed to stay what they are—secrets. That obvious definition was definitely not understood by several of our classmates, to whom secrets were opportunities to make new friends, and get close and comfortable with them after sharing the topmost of secrets.

There was perhaps no secret in the boys’ houses that did not reach the girls’ houses.

First, there were those embarrassing moments which no one would want anyone else to know. A certain someone had certain problems with the digestive problems, and had let go way earlier than he should have. Those who knew of it were very sensible about it and helped him. We in the boys’ houses knew there was a secret somewhere but did not know what it was, and we did not care.

I found what it was less than a week after the incident. There was some club work, and a girl friend asked me if a certain something was true. I was not sure where we were were going, and she thought I was protecting the secret, so she let me know that she was ‘in the secret’ and she knew everything. I moved in cautiously, extracted the information from her, pretended I was very embarrassed to talk about it and told her it was very true. Her roommate’s best friend had been the source of information, and she had gotten it from a guy who had wanted to get close. He failed at that, but the cat had been let out of the cage.

That’s a curious phenomenon. It’s like the so-called ‘dates’ were only places for sharing deepest-darkest secrets about friends. How else would the ‘dates’ take several hours daily for a few days, and end abruptly? The irony is, they were not even ‘real’ relationships. They were usually ‘oh, let’s get together and talk for hours for some weeks, and tell everyone we broke up, and stop talking, and once there’s enough new secrets about people, we could get together again and exchange them’.