If only the chairs we were sitting on was modelled as bucket seats, thought me, sitting in the back bench, trying to find a better butt position to go back to the deep meditation also called as an afternoon nap.
The Hindi class was at full swing.Some guy had managed to write a poem and our class was trying hard to find out all possible meaning for every word , featuring all emo points in that poem.
It was not interesting as it was not really rhyming. According to my unwritten rule which I believed those days.. "A poem has to rhyme else it becomes a fat chick on prom night."
The lack of rhyme factor in the poem was seriously interrupting my sleeping pattern.The occasional high pitched shrieks of excited geniuses doing autopsy on the helpless poem was tickling my sleep nerve.
The guy was sitting near me was at his creative best that afternoon and was drawing stick figures getting abducted by stick figures from outer space.
Being a backbencher has its occupational challenges. I was fighting gravity to keep my eyelids up. The eye lids were falling down at a rate more than the 'g' rate I was taught in class.Its a biological challenge to keep the mouth closed and eyes open in such classes
A backbencher is the usual suspect if a paper plane makes an unauthorised landing at the 'erogenous zone'of the class.[The zone where females sit together in the class].
The whole of the last bench was silent like a baby on a pacifier.Heavy lunch to blame.
..
..
That was when I fell of the dinosaur!!!.
It was a beautiful dream.*sigh
The unusual silence emitting out of the last bench, had aroused the suspicion of the teacher.She must have thought that we were actually listening to her lecture and was ready to answer some random questions about the gang banged poem..Since I was busy riding a dinosaur with a hot dumb blonde whom even blind person could see, I did't get the chance to perform an evasive manoeuvre from the question.
I stood up, gave my version of understanding about the poem which was quiet entertaining["It's the dumbest thing I have ever heard"-That's what I read on my teacher's face].
Since I had managed to give a wonderful answer, the teacher passed the question to the stick figure guy.If it was an objective type question he would have said "Same as above",pointing at me.
Anyway, the class ended ,the teacher bestowing on us both backbenchers the honor of writing the 'stupid poem' 100 times.
..
..
We forgot all about the '100 times' thingy as soon as the class got over.
"In school life, its real mess when the teacher remembers what what we forgot"-Sorcerer on School Life
The interrogation began and the teacher somehow was not ready to buy the simple biological theory that "Humans tend to forget."
The teacher stood her ground biased on her theory "How can you forget?"
Well!!School teaches life and prepares a man to face life
A man hears the following lines in his life time
1)How can you forget to write it 100 times ?
2)How can you forget my Birthday?
3)How can you forget the anniversary?
4)How can you forget the kid back at the grocery store?
So, I passed her question with a pleasant smile, which was what a man is supposed to do when he hears the HOW CAN question.
Just like the court doubling the sentence for prisoners, our teacher doubled our 100 writing thing to 200.
We would have bargained if she was in her good mood; the class resembled a flea market though.
"if you are not doing it by tomorrow..You will go meet the principal."
We couldn't help but agree. We nodded our heads.
..
..
The next day, I was so occupied with awesome thoughts like.
1)How does gravity taste like?
2)Are space cows real?
3)What is happening to the world in which we are living in.Can't a chicken cross the road without its motives being questioned?
4)What's for dinner?
5)Will it be possible to see own arse if we run around a tree at speed of light?
and as usual..didn't quiet get my conclusions on most of the questions and forgot to write the 200 times thingy.
Such deep and profound thoughts eat me from the inside like a biscuit packet eaten by ants!
By the time it occurred to us[ about the 200 times *sigh thing], 't' as in time way past the point of no return.The lunch break was almost drawing to its conclusion. Mathematically, even if we write a word a second it was impossible to finish off the punishment on time.
..
..
Both the geniasses [Me and my fellow inmate] got together.
"Can we run off?"
"Nope..will be caught and hanged next day.
"Plead for mercy?"
"Mercy Killing would be a good option"
It was the season of
Conjunctivitis and none of us managed to get infected.
*sigh
*Sigh
My friend was playing with a small bottle of Eucalyptus oil !!
TWOINNNGGGGGGGGGGG!!!..TWOINNNGGGGGGGGGGG!!!..TWOINNNGGGGGGGGGGG!!!..TWOINNNGGGGGGGGGGG!!!. [The sound of idea striking the empty cranium and echoing]
We both ran outside..Applied a small drop of eucalyptus oil in the eyes.
It really started freaking stinging..!!"
Washed the face with water..and viola!!
Yes!! Applied Chemistry at large! We had found an effective solution for the Fcuk up of the day!
..
..
Went back to the class.Took our seats.The seats of highest order!!!. Sat with eyes cupped. The curious onlookers were amazed at how quick the eyes can be infected.
[Poor sods]
The Teacher came in.
We were lying down with head resting on the table.
She Came near us! [She must have made up her mind on all those evil things she was gonna say to us!!!]
"You both!! What happened?"- The teacher asked
She must have expected the usual lame Kindergarten excuse "Headache Madam!!"
But..
We stood up
She gave one look at our blood shot eyes!!
Took a few steps back!!Shocked!!!
The hunter becomes the hunted.[Evil Laugh]
Teacher:"Oh!! Eye infection?"
we both nodded our heads.That nod itself would bring 2 Oscars if it was in a movie.
She must have thought, how lucky we both were to be blessed by momma nature with a timely infection to save our skin from the claws of Princi boy!
Teacher:You wanna go home?
I was prompted to ask..."Like...Forever?"
..
..
Anyway, we saved our skin that day from the predator princi.[Short for Principal for n00bs]
With that little stunt, we managed to buy ample time..to finish off the 200 writing thing in the next 2 days.
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"If life gives you bull shit..dry it and sell it as solid fuel in an elegant packing" -Sorcerer on Life
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