I'm not sure if this one post makes any sense (they never did,you point out!). I've been out of my mind ever since the study hols began I guess. More outta my mind than usual. Kipping up without a sight of my friends..haa..painful..just phoning..graah...I'm not liking this scenario however nice it maybe if it doesn't contain my *wookies all over and around me.
*Wookies-an endearing term I came across in Richard Bach's book, "The Bridge Across Forever". Choooo cute!
Anyways, coming back..this is an imaginary story Vinaya began and I completed seated in the back bench.. I'll explain.
This one happened when we used to sit for our subsidiary classes. Which means this one happened in one of the early months of the academic year. Obviously. Later on we matured and stopped sitting for the subs altogethah. This class was Fiction. Veryyyyyy boring. The subject, the text book,the teacher..everything( stressing on the "v") bores us. That one whole hour of sheer torture. Me and my classmates actually run to the back benches when we realise which hour is coming on! Honest! The professor can beat Prof Binns in a competition for the most soporific class. And the novel? You will die rather than have too study it. "Heart of Darkness". See what I mean? Even the book's name is depressing. The whole room seems to be filled with silent inward groans whenever the class begins.
I'm forgetting what I was actually post! So before that happens,here's a prologue by me to the story.
Back bench. We've propped up bags so as to carry on what we are doing without the teacher noticing. I'm reading the same sentence of the library book I'd taken for the 10th time or something. But making progress. Namitha is sleeping. Nimisha was playing Snake or something on her phone. (No ban on phones in our college. They trust us!) Prajisha and Ragitha,the nice girls were sitting up close and front in the front bench listening attentively to the teacher. Or trying to. Whatever.
Mr Fat and Mr Huge met near the basket( I really don't know what Vinaya meant be "basket") during Fiction class at Functional English. Fat asked Huge, "What are your plans for the last hour?" Huge was reading a book and not listening to the class. (As if she was!) He replied, (from here on I wrote the story) As long as Fat doesn't make stories again, I might as well run away.
Fat and Huge thought it was high time since they played a prank. They decided to blow a dung bomb in the department and in between that commotion they and Sleepy and Phon.E (spelled as "phony" )could slip away easily.
What about the Quiet and Smile in front?
The Quiet and Smile will remain quiet and smile.
[ This led to a volley of silenced laughter from the pair of us, which led to ma'am looking up, Namitha slightly opening her eyes from her beauty sleep]
[Then we had to end the story with this line]
If they throw the dung, they should do it before Yakkity-Yak rushes in. [Ma'am had apparently left the room for a while]
What was I trying to prove?
That we have no talent for making up stories? Or that we were trying to make a big deal of something ordinary?
You dahlings tell me. I'm waiting eagerly!
Love y'all. Ciao!