Friday, April 17, 2009

A Conversation

'What's up?'

'No.'

'No?'

'Yes.'

'That's so gay.'

Friday, April 10, 2009

Personal Space

Indians have a personal space issue.

Especially in public places.

Even more especially in public places like buses.

Now I  understand that we’re a country of a billion people, and that providing buses for these billion people, especially when there aren’t 1,33,33,333 buses (each bus holds 75 people. Do the math), will eventually result in crowded buses.

I hate travelling in crowded buses.

But luckily enough for me, people are generally idiots. Two of the exact same bus will happen to come by, one after the other, and they’ll all pile into the first one, leaving the second one completely empty. This is a good thing.

 

Generally.

Today, after waiting for about half an hour, I was ready to jump into the first bus that went my direction. Except when that bus eventually did arrive, it was packed to the bloody brim with people.

To give you a clear idea of what sort of people, I shall explain to you the surrounding conditions, and you shall infer the rest.

The temperature was at about 32 C, and heat index was at 37 C. That’s mighty hot. People sweat when it’s mighty hot.

People also sweat when they’re packed like rats.

Hey, hey! What a perfect combination of circumstances. The two things that bring out the sweat in people. Yay.

And I’m getting into this bus. First thing on the bus, and I’m already getting abused by the conductor for listening to my iPod. And then I get thrown in the mosh pit.

Wow. Arms and armpits flying everywhere. The sweat, the grime, the heat, the stickiness, the smell, the heat, the sweat, the heat.

Eugh.

About fifteen stops (I exaggerate not. I endured this for a whole forty minutes) later, the bus is reasonably clear, but there are still people clinging to me like I’m some life saver.

When they’ve got the entire bus to take their sweat to, they bring it to me. I must remember to thank them someday.

Personal space, people.

A foot on all sides, at all times.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

He’s so chilled, he’s positively bipolar.

Monday was a very entertaining day for me.

I had an English exam on Monday. I generally find these terrible, boring, and drudgery-filled. Yuck would appropriately sum it up, because as much as I like reading, I don’t like ‘summarising’, ‘cause I find it hard.

Yes, I’m a loser. Live with it.

 

Back to story.

We had an English exam, and we couldn’t take the exam in the room assigned to us, and we got shifted a floor down. A friend of mine suggested calling our teacher and telling him (this wasn’t a scripted change, more of a spur of the moment get-outta-here-you-freaks decision) where we were, so he could find us. So I did.

 

“Sir, we’re in 101 and not 201 for writing our English exam.”

“What?” (I figured he couldn’t here me, ‘cause there was a lot of noise from his end)

“We’re writing it in 101 and not 201”

“Writing what?”

“Our English exam.”

“But you don’t have an exam today!”

“No, sir. We do… we’re all in class, waiting for you.”

“Oh, shit.”

 

We finally did write it, with me being given responsibility.

But whatever.

I love my college.