so the new semester started rather boringly or should i say disappointingly with all my fury wrecking the ammeter, then a rheostat and then another gargantuan device with which 1 is is supposed to see the miraculous rings which mr. newton dicovered on another one of his casual random mornings. i struggle to get up by 10 so tht i can relish those free 3 marks of cp-2 which i know will be the tie-breakers between b and c (yeah a's r mission impossible for me). but no!! my necessary 7 hrs turns into a sweet siesta. this might jst work as a pantomime for me in the future.i wake up at 2 40 pm rush towards 3143 or is it 3243 . where is it. where is it. fd's r still pretty much a labyrinth for me. where i hav to look up again n again on for signs.
i enter into the cursed laboratory with the lab assistants giving me a cold but indifferent glance and i wonder whether even a metallica performance rt there rt then would b enough to inject some bloody passion and remove their drudgery. i join my team which is raring to perform the nxt expt. their excitement was comparable to tht of columbus who had got funding for his indian expedition. i was as usual pondering over the thought tht these expts would b of no use wt so ever in my future life . i take one of their lab reports and hurriedly draw the graphs with utter imperfection. our mam turns up and starts picking the endless anomalies in my report. "how many kind of emissions r there"she asks sotto voce. i mumble nothings and pratik comes to my rescue. ironically he gets 18 while i get 19. i keep on nodding to everything she says though i m not even listening coz i m plugged in.
on my return journey i have the usual samchat and masala shikanji. by the way redhiwala hugged me when i came back to pilani. i felt pretty much like his distant relative . afterall i was one of his favorite grahaks. then comes the latest passion in my life-hockey. i persuaded the nigger to join me in my mission to at least make into the bunch of extras. our ruthless staminas are soon exposed but we keep on trying. after dinner its sitcom time. there s some missing h wing. but its covered up by trying to make anuj (my sidie) understand the rafoo mentality which he (being a moneybags) will need to adjust between us typical dirty yellow fellas. he gives his dumb lectures on his breed supremacy and shares his stand on the figments of pigments tht trouble his mind. he is a racist. hates gults. abhishek looks like a rickshaw-wala in a dd1 advertisement in need of b-12 vitamins. vns is his usual self with his high decibel levels. nigger touches the edges of paranoia with ramblings on the recent disasters in wsc n cel.
life s back to normal and normal sucks big time.
i enter into the cursed laboratory with the lab assistants giving me a cold but indifferent glance and i wonder whether even a metallica performance rt there rt then would b enough to inject some bloody passion and remove their drudgery. i join my team which is raring to perform the nxt expt. their excitement was comparable to tht of columbus who had got funding for his indian expedition. i was as usual pondering over the thought tht these expts would b of no use wt so ever in my future life . i take one of their lab reports and hurriedly draw the graphs with utter imperfection. our mam turns up and starts picking the endless anomalies in my report. "how many kind of emissions r there"she asks sotto voce. i mumble nothings and pratik comes to my rescue. ironically he gets 18 while i get 19. i keep on nodding to everything she says though i m not even listening coz i m plugged in.
on my return journey i have the usual samchat and masala shikanji. by the way redhiwala hugged me when i came back to pilani. i felt pretty much like his distant relative . afterall i was one of his favorite grahaks. then comes the latest passion in my life-hockey. i persuaded the nigger to join me in my mission to at least make into the bunch of extras. our ruthless staminas are soon exposed but we keep on trying. after dinner its sitcom time. there s some missing h wing. but its covered up by trying to make anuj (my sidie) understand the rafoo mentality which he (being a moneybags) will need to adjust between us typical dirty yellow fellas. he gives his dumb lectures on his breed supremacy and shares his stand on the figments of pigments tht trouble his mind. he is a racist. hates gults. abhishek looks like a rickshaw-wala in a dd1 advertisement in need of b-12 vitamins. vns is his usual self with his high decibel levels. nigger touches the edges of paranoia with ramblings on the recent disasters in wsc n cel.
life s back to normal and normal sucks big time.
