Date: 20.08.2007
Time: 6:40 p.m.
A poetic day is usually one which gives you this insatiable urge to write. It doesn’t matter whether it is in prose or verse form — all that is important is the feeling that you will burst if you don’t put the thoughts swirling violently inside your head into words.
After raining petulantly for the last couple of days, the morning started out to be sunny and rather warm. Later during the day, however, the clouds seemed to suffer a hundred-and-eighty degree mood swing and amassed in one corner of the brightly lit sky. Although I wasn’t really watching the weather (I was, err … trying my best to ignore my grumbling stomach in a certain class which seemed to stretch on endlessly seeing that the fact that lunch breaks are meant for eating was an idea alien to the professor teaching us), I had a feeling that it would rain today. When my mates and I finally managed to head downstairs after arguing a long-drawn court-case with the professor (titled: “Class vs. Teacher: The Case of the Lunch-Break-which-is-denied-in-spite-of-class-having-ended-after-three-hours-of-torturous-teaching), we located some rowdy raucous specimens whom I was supposed to be ‘treating’ today and headed towards the nearby eatery which we frequent on a daily basis.
It took ages for the two ordered food-items to arrive, by which time the rowdy raucous specimens had evolved into ravenously-hungry rowdy raucous specimens. And then came the rain, pouring down beautifully, the moment we finished gorging the last crumbs left behind after a long battle with warring fingers fighting for food. Ah ‘what a glorious feeling!’ It was splendid to smell the fresh air again instead of rotten smoke from automobiles.
There were eight people and only three umbrellas, leading to more than one person (I’m poor at basic arithmetic, so forgive me) scrambling beneath a single umbrella in order to prepare for a mad dash to the next class. The only two things which I did not wish to get wet were my wristwatch and my bag (I’m still not sure whether it is water-proof). Therefore, I deposited my watch inside my bag, rolled up my trousers and ran like the lunatic I am, while ensuring that my bag does not get wet and paying no attention to whether the rowdy raucous specimen sharing (or I should say, ‘hogging’) my umbrella got drenched or not. Anyway, I did get drenched and I must say that it was rather pleasant to splash about in muddy water and feel the water droplets happily trickling down my face, head and rather wet back. Sadly, my friends weren’t quite so delighted at having got wet owing to their umbrellas being hogged by the other rowdy raucous specimens. And I suppose they were even more soaked than I was. Pity, really. Astonishingly, I actually managed to work out Mathematics while distracted and even got a ‘Good’ for working out the stuff (*smiles in a silly and weird manner*).
We had some free time after that class, which I spent sitting in the canteen with two of my friends. They both bought something warm to drink and I followed suit. We sat there sipping the hot fluid which made my throat feel as though it was getting an internal massage (although I think that I burnt my tongue). Nevertheless, it was quite pleasant after all the water I had been drinking today.
The last class was to start at five minutes to three. Not surprisingly, none of my classmates were very keen on staying for it. We all decided to wait for five or ten minutes to see whether the professor would be taking class and then leave if he did not turn up by that time. Most dishearteningly, we saw our professor walking up the corridor towards our classroom the exact moment we were finished packing and were about to leave! We all looked as though we’d been gifted poison on our birthday.
Our pleas to let us leave the dreaded dungeon (erm, not exactly a dungeon since the classroom’s on the fourth floor … I’m exaggerating a bit, heh) were mistaken for requests to discuss discourses on the lovely weather instead of our usual talk about ethics. Below, you would find an abridged version of the conversations that took place during the class (known and unknown to the professor).
Prof: (to a classmate) “What does the rain make you feel?”
LD: (while she’s answering … and I’m muttering) I feel like writing poetry. Descriptive, depressing poetry.
VB: (one of my friends, who is sitting directly on my right … she’s muttering as well) Sir, I feel like slapping LD … really hard.
LD: (while the discussion on rain is still continuing) I feel like jumping into puddles and splashing VB with water so that her undies remain wet. Waaaahahahahahaha (*evil laugh*).
[VB looks disgruntled]
Prof: “… The rain is associated with mood swings …”
LD: (mutters) Too true!
Prof: “… with missing someone you love …”
[LD sticks out her tongue and makes a face]
VB: (wrinkling her nose in annoyance) You’re still a five-year-old inside your head!
Prof: (sneakily taking the conversation back to Ethics) “… the relationship between man and nature … story of man’s hostility to nature … thanks to Science and Technology you could understand the logic of nature and manipulate nature … relationship is that of master and slave … nature is used as an instrument to serve our needs … used almost recklessly to serve human purpose … Those who wanted to make money, make war …”
LD: (softly and rather randomly) You missed out make pizza, sir, pizza and plastic.
Prof: “… power hungry people wanted to take advantage of nature and it is at this juncture that …”
LD: … more of blah-blah-ing comes in. Gah.
[After several pointed requests by the class to let us leave, which continue to be mistaken for requests to discuss other matters …]
Class: Leave us please, sir!
LD: (out of hearing range of the professor but within that of VB) Yes! These two next to me are wet and have wet undies as well (*snigger snigger snigger evil snigger*)!
Prof: “I give you the liberty to raise an issue and then go home.”
DM: (another friend sitting to the right of VB) Don’t we have the liberty to go home?
AGM: (a classmate, who abruptly asks) Is it ethical to make remakes of legendary films like Sholay?
[LD, VB and DM laugh like lunatics for no reason, while there is more blah-ness …
Then, this hitherto farcical representation takes a turn for the serious as VB decides to raise a very serious issue.]
Last Thursday, while VB and DM were walking to college together, along a slightly deserted route, certain men present there hooted, passed extremely lewd comments and made them feel extremely insecure and scared about the tense and unpredictable situation they were in. VB was extremely upset about the utter helplessness of their situation and that nothing is done about similar or even worse situations taking place across the country. She has written about the incident in her blog. I urge all of you to go and read “Protest”.
VB: We want to know what can be done about it. If it happens to millions of women all over the country why shouldn’t our voices be raised?
Our professor then suggested certain measures that could be taken for doing just that and urged all of us to speak out against this. The risk of speaking out and that of the so-called “loss of face” should be one that we, being a part of the “elite and lucky few in the country” should be willing to take. He also stated, “Danger lies in becoming solitary … we have all become onlookers.”
One thing that I think today’s lesson achieved is that our entire class has now woken up to the fact that eve-teasing and sexual harassment of women is something real — not just a sad story in the morning newspaper which one reads and forgets by the time one finishes breakfast.
I got a bit wet again while I was returning home from college (*Yayness*). And I also had a pleasant chat with Ship over the phone. The rains do indeed inspire a lot! After suffering from writer’s block and blankness for quite some time, I’ve actually written something that is three pages long! And yes, it was a rather poetic day, even though I haven’t wasted paper by ‘composing’ horrid poems that are so characteristic of me (*Smiles all around*). I feel slightly better, yes. Definitely.
End: 8:15 p.m.
Time: 6:40 p.m.
A poetic day is usually one which gives you this insatiable urge to write. It doesn’t matter whether it is in prose or verse form — all that is important is the feeling that you will burst if you don’t put the thoughts swirling violently inside your head into words.
After raining petulantly for the last couple of days, the morning started out to be sunny and rather warm. Later during the day, however, the clouds seemed to suffer a hundred-and-eighty degree mood swing and amassed in one corner of the brightly lit sky. Although I wasn’t really watching the weather (I was, err … trying my best to ignore my grumbling stomach in a certain class which seemed to stretch on endlessly seeing that the fact that lunch breaks are meant for eating was an idea alien to the professor teaching us), I had a feeling that it would rain today. When my mates and I finally managed to head downstairs after arguing a long-drawn court-case with the professor (titled: “Class vs. Teacher: The Case of the Lunch-Break-which-is-denied-in-spite-of-class-having-ended-after-three-hours-of-torturous-teaching), we located some rowdy raucous specimens whom I was supposed to be ‘treating’ today and headed towards the nearby eatery which we frequent on a daily basis.
It took ages for the two ordered food-items to arrive, by which time the rowdy raucous specimens had evolved into ravenously-hungry rowdy raucous specimens. And then came the rain, pouring down beautifully, the moment we finished gorging the last crumbs left behind after a long battle with warring fingers fighting for food. Ah ‘what a glorious feeling!’ It was splendid to smell the fresh air again instead of rotten smoke from automobiles.
There were eight people and only three umbrellas, leading to more than one person (I’m poor at basic arithmetic, so forgive me) scrambling beneath a single umbrella in order to prepare for a mad dash to the next class. The only two things which I did not wish to get wet were my wristwatch and my bag (I’m still not sure whether it is water-proof). Therefore, I deposited my watch inside my bag, rolled up my trousers and ran like the lunatic I am, while ensuring that my bag does not get wet and paying no attention to whether the rowdy raucous specimen sharing (or I should say, ‘hogging’) my umbrella got drenched or not. Anyway, I did get drenched and I must say that it was rather pleasant to splash about in muddy water and feel the water droplets happily trickling down my face, head and rather wet back. Sadly, my friends weren’t quite so delighted at having got wet owing to their umbrellas being hogged by the other rowdy raucous specimens. And I suppose they were even more soaked than I was. Pity, really. Astonishingly, I actually managed to work out Mathematics while distracted and even got a ‘Good’ for working out the stuff (*smiles in a silly and weird manner*).
We had some free time after that class, which I spent sitting in the canteen with two of my friends. They both bought something warm to drink and I followed suit. We sat there sipping the hot fluid which made my throat feel as though it was getting an internal massage (although I think that I burnt my tongue). Nevertheless, it was quite pleasant after all the water I had been drinking today.
The last class was to start at five minutes to three. Not surprisingly, none of my classmates were very keen on staying for it. We all decided to wait for five or ten minutes to see whether the professor would be taking class and then leave if he did not turn up by that time. Most dishearteningly, we saw our professor walking up the corridor towards our classroom the exact moment we were finished packing and were about to leave! We all looked as though we’d been gifted poison on our birthday.
Our pleas to let us leave the dreaded dungeon (erm, not exactly a dungeon since the classroom’s on the fourth floor … I’m exaggerating a bit, heh) were mistaken for requests to discuss discourses on the lovely weather instead of our usual talk about ethics. Below, you would find an abridged version of the conversations that took place during the class (known and unknown to the professor).
Prof: (to a classmate) “What does the rain make you feel?”
LD: (while she’s answering … and I’m muttering) I feel like writing poetry. Descriptive, depressing poetry.
VB: (one of my friends, who is sitting directly on my right … she’s muttering as well) Sir, I feel like slapping LD … really hard.
LD: (while the discussion on rain is still continuing) I feel like jumping into puddles and splashing VB with water so that her undies remain wet. Waaaahahahahahaha (*evil laugh*).
[VB looks disgruntled]
Prof: “… The rain is associated with mood swings …”
LD: (mutters) Too true!
Prof: “… with missing someone you love …”
[LD sticks out her tongue and makes a face]
VB: (wrinkling her nose in annoyance) You’re still a five-year-old inside your head!
Prof: (sneakily taking the conversation back to Ethics) “… the relationship between man and nature … story of man’s hostility to nature … thanks to Science and Technology you could understand the logic of nature and manipulate nature … relationship is that of master and slave … nature is used as an instrument to serve our needs … used almost recklessly to serve human purpose … Those who wanted to make money, make war …”
LD: (softly and rather randomly) You missed out make pizza, sir, pizza and plastic.
Prof: “… power hungry people wanted to take advantage of nature and it is at this juncture that …”
LD: … more of blah-blah-ing comes in. Gah.
[After several pointed requests by the class to let us leave, which continue to be mistaken for requests to discuss other matters …]
Class: Leave us please, sir!
LD: (out of hearing range of the professor but within that of VB) Yes! These two next to me are wet and have wet undies as well (*snigger snigger snigger evil snigger*)!
Prof: “I give you the liberty to raise an issue and then go home.”
DM: (another friend sitting to the right of VB) Don’t we have the liberty to go home?
AGM: (a classmate, who abruptly asks) Is it ethical to make remakes of legendary films like Sholay?
[LD, VB and DM laugh like lunatics for no reason, while there is more blah-ness …
Then, this hitherto farcical representation takes a turn for the serious as VB decides to raise a very serious issue.]
Last Thursday, while VB and DM were walking to college together, along a slightly deserted route, certain men present there hooted, passed extremely lewd comments and made them feel extremely insecure and scared about the tense and unpredictable situation they were in. VB was extremely upset about the utter helplessness of their situation and that nothing is done about similar or even worse situations taking place across the country. She has written about the incident in her blog. I urge all of you to go and read “Protest”.
VB: We want to know what can be done about it. If it happens to millions of women all over the country why shouldn’t our voices be raised?
Our professor then suggested certain measures that could be taken for doing just that and urged all of us to speak out against this. The risk of speaking out and that of the so-called “loss of face” should be one that we, being a part of the “elite and lucky few in the country” should be willing to take. He also stated, “Danger lies in becoming solitary … we have all become onlookers.”
One thing that I think today’s lesson achieved is that our entire class has now woken up to the fact that eve-teasing and sexual harassment of women is something real — not just a sad story in the morning newspaper which one reads and forgets by the time one finishes breakfast.
I got a bit wet again while I was returning home from college (*Yayness*). And I also had a pleasant chat with Ship over the phone. The rains do indeed inspire a lot! After suffering from writer’s block and blankness for quite some time, I’ve actually written something that is three pages long! And yes, it was a rather poetic day, even though I haven’t wasted paper by ‘composing’ horrid poems that are so characteristic of me (*Smiles all around*). I feel slightly better, yes. Definitely.
End: 8:15 p.m.
4 comments:
*laughsherheadoff*
oh man you write. and you write brilliantly.
and about that protest thing, i totally agree.
um well
oh well i aint great at discussing serious matters no.
lets leave that at that.
Of course. That is the best definition of a poetic day. A day where... I pretty much get obssessed with writing and finish off at least fifty pages all through the day. Makes me happy... to write around 8000 words. Heh.
Hey! You went there just as I had left school. We missed again. Argh.
DUNGEON IT IS! DUNGEON IT IS!!
***
{Let us not describe the scene of the Prince's throne after he read the Shark's extremely *faint hysterical laughter from far away is heard* ... mirthful... *more manical laughter is heard, this one is prolonged.* dialogue.}
***
{I feel like writing poetry. Descriptive, depressing poetry.: Same here. Same here. Wrote some. Wrote some.}
Well... that's quite a bad problem, yes. I can't say much, being the Sacher-Masoch defined protagonist, I do not really think that should happen with women. It's a problem plaguing our country, and I have yet to see it happen. I say this now, I shall try to stop it if I see it happening.
However, there was this case in point a few days ago when a person tried to stop a group from teasing a girl on a bus. We know what happened after that. And it's quite depressing to note that the woman in question did not appear. {And if she did I did not see her name in the front page.}
So... it's a battle to be fought by the sympathising men and the victimised and sympathising women. Let's open up our eyes, shall we?
YES I postmented. Be happy, mortal aquatic creature! :P
I believe this blog meet would be funny. [:P]
You write fantastico! [:)]
And I wish my college becomes this fun!
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