How B. Sir Was Hugged, Shocked, and Got a Life.

By Suku Iyer


It is one of those sunny days, when half the class is sleeping and only people like M seem to be tolerating [actually, attentively listening] to Sir's soporific voice. "Oh, my dear, my attention." Suddenly, in a flurry of perfume, this chirpy female with a fake grin enters our class. "Hi!!! Siiir!" "Hullo Shefali." [All of a sudden everyone in the class is paying rapt attention and this murmur circultaes,"Isn't that Shefali T.? God she's so fat!"]
Not noticing this, she screams,"Hii everyone", and our class is suddenly and uncharacteristically solemn. Then, out of the blue, she goes and hugs Sir. Now Sir, not being used to such affection is caught unawares and his eyes almost jump out of their sockets. [She's supposedly a model, hence, the gogglingness!] This is too much for us, so we start staring big time at Sir and his model. Sir, seeing us, and thinking his reputation to be at stake, very shrewdly takes her outside. We hear a "So how are you, Shefali?" in his special husky voice. Everyone in class is almost falling out of their seats trying to listen to them. [This is a girls school, so gossip is like water, hence quintessential] She [Shefali] is unnerved by our very 'decent' reactions, and carries on in her super audible voice..
"Oh Sir, I completely forgot! This is my husband!" "Oh, hullo." [Shit man, Sir's face was so shrivelled up, you actually felt bad for that beast] Our class, ever so soigne, screams,"Chhee! He's so ugly; uncle! Urgh!" Just when we seem to get over the shock, she jumps inside the class, with a Wonder Womanish air around her. "Hiii everyone!" This time around, we all reply religiously. "HIII!" "So how's Sir teaching you guys? He's brilliant, isn't he?" [Yeah, right, he may be the god of Accounts, but I still don't give a shit. But then, she doesn't care for mine or anyone's opinion and continues.] "Does he still give you the Boston-Bombay example? When we were students, he always gave us that one!" [A whisper follows. "Yaar, why is she bullshitting so much?"]
Sir seems to realise that Shefali dearest is with the class, and comes inside shiftily. [He doesn't trust us at all, you know.] "Oh no Shefali, that was for your batch only." "Okay, okay then bye Sir!" [Hum dobaara milenge na Shefali?] "Bye everyone!" ["Please dobaara aana Shefali...."]

And so she leaves, leaving us with enough gossip and hot news to share with our fellow chugalkhors.

Aaand its deja vu!

Last year, last year's creative writing competition. This.
This year, this year's creative writing competition. This.

Ahem.

THE BEST WAY TO DESTROY THE EARTH
[in the opinion of a few honourable gentlemen]

'There's a hole in my bucket,
Eliza, a hole..'
A child singing his rhyme
could take its toll.
The noble young 'un
With a heart of gold;
Of environ consciousness
In school, would've been told.
Precious water would go waste
Flowing through the hole;
Paining our noble,
aggrieved young soul.
To the town mayor
He would scurry;
[Trying times like this
Necessitated hurry]
The mayor would look,
solemnly; and say,
"I see but
no other way.
A problem so serious
Needs more power.
I shall make calls,
Wide and far."
The environment minister
At once would be called;
He'd look at the bucket
Stricken, appalled.
"The bucket makers
Should die of shame,
Of so sacrilegious a sin
They are to blame!"
A committee would be formed,
A panel laid;
To see if the bucket
Would make life fade.
The learned chairman
Would adjust his glasses,
Cough, and be ready
To face the masses.
"This bucket here
Doth proclaim :
Repercussions for which
We have no name.
The aqua would flow through
And be wasted;
People would die
H2O untasted.
Dehydration would take
Further lives:
Men and women
Husbands and wives;
Producers would die
Supply would fall;
[The author has economic knowledge,
however small.]
With no food to eat
We'd be dead meat;
Scavengers would abound
Rise and soar,
The black eagle would burp
Having had bodies four.
A gurgling in its stomach
Would put it ill at ease,
For it would develop
A weird sounding stomach disease.
Flowers would wither,
Plants die;
No life on earth,
My, oh my.
This is true people,
fear oh fear!
Armageddon beckons,
Apocalypse nears!
The world is in danger,
Do well to worry:
Live your dreams,
Dude! Scurry!
The earth will soon be dead;
Drenched in streams of red.
But remember this mortals,
I, first this, foretold,
So when you make money on your bets
I want commission in gold."

Er, yeah. So I suck at rhyming. And I digress. :P

Five blasts.
Jeez.
All markets.
One fifteen minutes away from home.
Another I would have been at right now.
What is the world coming to?

Hope you're all fine.