After an exhausting week of tut tests, club work, and commitments, the writer of this article was planning to spend her Saturday doing what she does best—sleeping, eating, and lazing around. Unfortunately, her deep slumber was interrupted by an alarming number of missed calls from the Editor-in-Chief, who summoned her, along with the other writers, to the dark dungeon she liked to call her room. The Editor began to air out her troubles and, with deep sorrow, expressed the loss of her beloved water bottle, which she had forgotten at a certain redi. As she prepared to send our wayfarers on a quest, the words began to spew out of her:
“Beneath a sky of bronze, the chosen one shall rise
The elder’s bottle, you must retrieve—
From the redi’s grasp, through rush and crowd.
Bring it back before the sun descends
And the chief’s own throne to you shall bend.
Fail this trial, and forever mourn —
The title lost, the crown unworn.”
With sweat on their foreheads, maybe from the scorching Pilani sun or maybe the weight of the opportunity to become the Chief Editor for a day, the protagonists split up and kicked off their expedition, making their way over to the redi of their choice.
RP Redi
In hopes of obtaining some high-quality caffeine to get a powerful start to her gruelling journey ahead, the writer stumbled over to RP redi adjacent to its namesake Bhawan. Being the only place on campus that served a variety of Davidoff and Sleepy Owl coffees, its ample seating space was fully occupied. Patrons were enjoying a plethora of breakfast and snack options, with the Dabeli and Paneer Makhni Patty looking especially appetising.
Though enquiring about the water bottle led nowhere, she was able to spot Nagar ji, who had been the answer to all her campus history questions in the past, and made her way over to VK Redi, popularly known as Nagar ji ki redi.
VK Redi
Being the oldest redi on campus, originating in 1969, Nagar ji and Pawan ji had been familiar faces to all students, greeting them with their pleasant smiles. Looking to satiate her rumbling stomach, the writer ordered the Paneer Cheese Chilla and made conversation with Pawan ji. He recalled a former student who would always order the same Extra Masala Maggi and was notorious for forgetting his belongings behind, just like the Chief Editor. He further stated that alumni would often visit him on their reunions and bestow numerous awards, as were displayed on his kiosk. Although Nagar ji was getting older, he still served the iconic Rabri and Khus Sharbat with the same zeal and fervour, as he had all these years.
The hot summer morning had started to hit the writer now, and the sweet shade of the lush trees around Bhagi redi tempted her.
Bhagirath Redi
Although the writer hadn’t been a frequent visitor to this particular redi, mostly because of its inconsistent timings and it being shut down during the majority of last year, she knew a chilled glass of Sugarcane juice would be the perfect fix for surviving this scathing hot day. With the other options on the menu—Chai and Maggi—being as humble as the staff, it was the perfect spot to grab a quick drink.
Almost losing sight of the quest at hand, she ran into one of her competitors on her short walk to Ashok redi. The competition was slowing down as her fellows were stopping there to have some early lunch and dragged her along. She did not mind that, because it was her favourite place to sit and listen to stories of the early days of BITS.
Ashok Redi
Ashok redi, being managed by a family for generations, had been up and running for 45 years now, yet the conversation and energy never seemed to die down. The redi was, as usual, filled with senior students, being lesser known and unfamiliar to the freshers. She couldn’t resist taking a bite out of her competitor’s plate of Chole Kulche, but the sight of the hot and tempting Momos, which were a rare menu item for a redi, quickly distracted her.
Chugging a sip of the fresh Shikanji her fellow competitor ordered, and being disappointed yet again by the lack of the water bottle she was in search of, she marched her way down to CVR looking for answers.
CVR Redi
The writer was welcomed to CVR redi by the owner, a very warm and witty speaker, who proudly directed her attention to one of the most expansive redi menus on campus. Her eyes shifted from the renowned onion kachori, a faculty favourite, to more than 20 different types of Maggi made here. As she relished her Cheese Paneer Frankie, she listened to the owner reminiscing about the journey of the redi, which started off outside ANC/GymG as a redi that stayed open till 4 every day, to reaching CVR, where they have a legacy of opening early in the morning, which made it the perfect spot to conclude an all-nighter. She and her competitors ended their journey at this redi with the glass-bottled soft drinks like Slice they served.
Full to the brim from the extreme amount of Pilani delicacies that she had devoured till now, and in a rush to make it to the extra class she was already late for, the writer decided to put the quest on hold and ran to class. The pretense of productivity just made her sleepier, and the natural next stop was Krishna redi to grab a cup of chai.
Krishna Redi
As the author reached the redi, she could spot the crowd around it from a distance. Its proximity to academic buildings and hostels made it the perfect spot to hang out. The jovial environment at this redi is unbeatable, and you’re almost guaranteed to run into someone you already know. Even though the sight of her competitors incentivised her to hurry, she couldn’t resist the delicious Fried Maggi and the cold glass-bottled soft drinks that make this redi one of the busiest ones on campus. The redi continued to tempt her (and test the Chief Editor’s patience) with some of the best chaat you can find at a redi.
After having consumed enough outside food to make one sick, the author decided to get back to the task at hand and started scouring through the nooks and crannies of this redi, seeking the water bottle amongst the crates of soft drinks, to no avail. So, yet again, we follow our author to yet another redi.
Gandhi Redi
After the tiring journey so far, the author spotted Gandhi redi, busy as ever. The very sight of this serene redi slowed her heartbeat, and, yet again, she sat down to grab a bite. She got some fresh fruit and a bottle of Masala Dew, both of which are infrequent in redis. Her competitors make her jealous with their Papdi Chaat and Cold Coffee. She also has to dodge a few professors, because professors frequently visit this redi due to its proximity to NAB.
As she’s ready to depart, she notices some garbage on the road, including some chip packets and a vaguely familiar off-brand Bisleri bottle. This piques the environmentalist in the author, and she ends up having to rid the region of some trash before joining her competitors, searching for the next redi to terrorise.
Ram Redi
The ever-busy Ram Redi was packed with foodies enjoying an evening snack. Still unable to find the elusive water bottle, which had become a source of daylight terror for her, she ran into her friends there, who were able to convince her to stay for a quick bite of Paneer Frankie, making an offer she couldn’t refuse. She envied the few residents of Ram Bhawan who could get a cup of tea or a Pyaaz Kachori without ever leaving their room, owing to the redi’s proximity to the hostel building.
By now, the quest had started feeling less like a treasure hunt and more like an elaborate way to eat her way through the campus. With the faint hope of still retrieving the water bottle, she moved over to Budh redi.
Budh Redi
The owner welcomed her with his characteristic warmth and endless supply of conversation. While waiting for her refreshing Kala Khatta Mojito, the writer noticed a collection of photographs displayed prominently across the kiosk. In the photographs, the owner stood proudly posing next to prominent people on campus, promoting his redi, with the SU President among them. With her first choice of food, Chole Kulche, being out of stock already owing to their popularity, she settled for getting a Paneer Cheese Kulcha, which proved to be even more delicious than expected.
Yet, despite another round of enquiries, the water bottle remained nowhere to be found. With the afternoon slipping away and the Editor-in-Chief’s deadline drawing closer, the writer resumed her search, leaving Budh Redi with a full stomach, several new campus anecdotes, and, unfortunately, no sign of the missing bottle.
Malviya Redi
Hidden at a corner of the campus, this redi enjoyed a relatively quiet and peaceful existence until the author and her competitors took it by storm. This crowd of treasure hunters sat down to the comfort of this redi’s promise of hygienic food, and enjoyed the Stuffed Kulche and Paneer Patties that it was famous for.
To end their visit at the redi, the author enjoyed the Aam Panna offered here before departing to yet another distant corner of the campus, in search of a water bottle she may never find.
Shankar Redi
The author, exhausted and devoid of any hope of finding the water bottle, sought to return to Meera and call it a day. However, she decided to make a last-ditch effort to find the water bottle and stopped by Shankar redi on her way back. The Poha and Soda Shikanji available here restored some hope as she headed out to Vyas redi to seek out the water bottle.
Vyas Redi
As one of the least busy redis on campus due to its location, the author enjoys the peace and quiet here. She calmly chats with the owner, Gulab ji, and enjoys the redi’s Samosas before departing yet again, to hopefully conclude this quest.
Meera Redi
Being absolutely stuffed and unable to even bear the sight of food anymore, yet with the Editor-in-Chief’s deadline looming over her head, she dragged herself over to Meera redi to give it a final search for that slippery bottle.
What made this redi unconventional was that it was located within the bounds of Meera Bhawan and was open only to its residents. Being a blessing in disguise, owing to the fact that she did not have to travel too far to get her daily dose of evening snacks, as it carried the widest variety of packaged chips, chocolates, and juices.
She spotted her wingies among the ever-present crowd, with plates of Aloo Paneer Paratha and Mexican Sandwich in front of them, and enquired about the taste because it often varied on account of the redi being managed by multiple people working in long shifts.
Although Meera redi had no plans to shut down for the day anytime soon, considering it is the only redi which is open till midnight, the writer saw the chance of becoming Chief Editor for the day fleeting away with the setting sun.
She reluctantly accepted that the quest was over and made her way to the Editor to retell the tales of her unfruitful Herculean labour.
Return to the Chief Editor
As she returns to the Chief Editor, the author feels glum that she couldn’t find the bottle. When she finally meets her, the Chief Editor visibly goes through the five stages of grief before she starts to reminisce about her favourite bottle, an off-brand Bisleri bottle a loved one had gifted her. The realisation hits the author—she had thrown her bottle away. She lost her chance to become the Chief Editor for a day. She tried to hide the expression on her face, but her senior misunderstood what she felt. After feeling guilty for having the junior run around campus, she decided to let the author take up her post for a day. Joyfully, the author thought about what she wanted to write. As she finally makes up her mind and picks up her laptop, an error pops up: Access Denied. She heard the clock tower bell ring from a distance—The day was over, and so was her tenure as the Chief Editor.