So it’s finally time to write. A friend told me he misses reading my innocent chatter (if that’s what you call it, thank you!), and another wrote up a good entry himself and had a very interesting story to go with it; all this encouraged me and I am back.
I have been up to a lot over the last month. The Highlights being -
I have learnt a LOT of cooking in the last month.
I also went to 300 years of Celebration With The Guru ceremony at the Gurudwara and loved it!
I have made up some really good slogans to abuse my cab mates (colleagues) when they can’t stop preaching about piracy. E.g. the racist condemns piracy.
And many more…
1RV02IS021. I could forget my name when I was in college, but not this number.
This number would be entered four times every semester in the huge VTU exam form with one copy for college, one for VTU, one for the student and one on the hall ticket, four times on the Valuation form, four times on the fee receipt and so on!
All the receipts were “submitted” from one side of the window to the lethargic fat man on the other side. Our hands would hang on the window bars; Sometimes if we had guts enough - we would sway the receipt a bit to grab the fat mans attention, who gets enough heat from the layers of fat on his body, to feel like he is underneath a thick blanket, dozing off in God’s-Kind-World.
All those lab attendants who did not know anything about computers and tried to bully us to satisfy their ego; all those teachers who were constantly trying to solve the who-is-going-out-with-who mystery; all those silly hangers-on of our even sillier principal who roamed around in college to check for couples; all the cell phone confiscators; all those examination cheats; the forming of bbings; the non stop non-sense and Mallika Sherawat jokes; the CIP class and the quizzes we won by intelligent guessing (read : utter fluke); the cheti-and-gang-and-pavan non-sense; the bheja fries; the awesome five some; the pappu; the DOS class always interpreted as the LAS(T) class by us; sitting in the last bench with all the front benches empty; sharing one notebook amongst four; combine studies; the examination time smses; the bus driver menace; the placement season; the lab viva and the likes are indeed good old days I miss terribly.
I wish I could rewind to catch a glimpse of the good old days that are gone for good!
