Disclaimer: I would appreciate it if the staff of The Daily Free Press could find it in their hearts to provide me armed security due to the possible safety risks that the following column may incur upon me and/or others with whom I associate. Also, for the purpose of this column my name is no longer Danny Baram but instead is “Xavier Steele.” (Yeah, that’s more like it.) And please, read the following information with caution — it is still highly classified data. So, without further ado…
“The Atul Files, or, Atul: International Man of Mystery.”
Case Log #1 — September — I had just arrived at Boston University, and I received a mysterious phone call one dark night. On the line a sullen voice asked a question that I had often asked myself: “Hello,” he said, “is a tool there?” Countless thoughts raced through my head, none of them good. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? Was this type of sophomoric humor going to characterize the entirety of my college existence? (answer: yes.) I quickly hung up the phone in disgust. Little did I know the strange truth behind this anonymous phone call.
Case Log #2 — October — I had finally figured out how to open my mailbox, I knew, as I heard the elusive click of the combination lock opening. At last, I too could feel special by pretending that my BU junk mail was in fact real correspondence. But what did I find upon opening my metal box of joy? A stack of letters addressed to … Atul? What mockery was this? Then it all came together … a tool … Atul … they were one and the same! Atul lived, and I was getting his mail.
Case Log #3 — November — I continued to get Atul’s mail on an almost daily basis, yet the true identity of this enigmatic figure persisted in eluding me. Who was this man, and why did he subscribe to “Backpacker’s Monthly?” Why was his mail so plentiful while mine amounted to next to nothing? It wasn’t long before the legend surrounding this man grew into a verified phenomenon, with all sorts of theories developing as to the true nature of his existence. Any attempts at an investigation turned up nothing but roadblocks. Atul proved to be as mysterious as Deep Throat, though without as cool of a name.
Case Log #4 — December — It was once again a cold and blustery night in Boston, when my warm, peaceful slumber was suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted by a strange phone call of dubious origins. Who would call at such a late hour? My roommate answered the phone (he has asked to remain anonymous, fearful of any negative consequences that may stem from this column). Before he could even utter a “hello,” he was assaulted with a verbal barrage the like of which hasn’t been seen since Madonna last appeared on Letterman. Amidst the unintelligible ranting, a single telltale word could be understood: “Atul.” That night we lay shivering in a dorm room that suddenly seemed to have many untold stories. If only the walls could talk (I hear they can in Warren Towers). Were we being haunted by the specter of a departed student, or was this man out there somewhere in this vast University, embroiled in international intrigue that we had yet to imagine? Whatever the case, one thing was clear: Atul was real. Very real.
Case Log #5 — Additional speculation and random musings — Despite endless pondering and television-induced stretches of the imagination, we are still left wondering who the man is that is known affectionately as Atul. Is he some sort of secret agent immersed in a global counter-terrorist mission? Is he a ghost who has chosen to haunt our humble dorm room in hopes of warning us of approaching evil? Is he a figment of our collective imaginations, a mass-hallucination designed to perplex and confuse us? Or is he simply an ordinary student, whose mail we sometimes accidentally receive? Despite some evidence to the contrary, I hesitate to believe that Atul is, as some have speculated, a malevolent entity. No, I like to remain optimistic. I like to think that somewhere out there, Atul is sitting and reading this very column, wryly smiling at our over-imaginative ignorance. He probably is confident in the fact that we are still mostly oblivious to his role in the impending nuclear conflict between the United States and Canada (hey, you knew it would have to happen eventually). Atul, if you’re out there, we have your copy of the BU Student Directory waiting. Just (ahem) don’t hurt us, okay?
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