Those good ol’ days

I recently chanced by an old email I had written to a friend which happened to be an explicit narrative on a day in my life as a first year BMM student. Since the front pages of all newspapers are crammed with SSC/HSC and various other abbreviated exam stories, I thought I’d be real nice and give a heads up to all those newly inducted freshers who are straightening their locks and buying checked shorts in hope of celebrating the wild, joyous, carefree ride of collegedom.

Here is an excerpt of my mail, reproduced without several foul expletives. (Warning: This mail contains graphic content that could be disturbing for first year newbies. Parental discretion advised)

You know what the definition of a bad day is? Let me enlighten you since I have had FIRST HAND experience of what constitutes a BAD DAY.

(1) You sleep at two in the morning with two project submissions due the next day and you haven’t even started on one of them because your stupid friend’s friend who APPARENTLY knows how to use Photoshop…well…DOESN’T. So you go to bed with that terrible burden on your fragile shoulders.

(2) You get up at 7 in the morning, stare blankly at the computer screen which glares at you in a mocking way so as to say “look loser I ain’t got no dark circles like you have because I had my beauty sleep!” (Sometimes computers aren’t that user friendly as they’re made out to be.)

(3) Whilst still staring at the screen, the dratted dust particles in the air suddenly decide that since they have nothing else to do but float around, why don’t they just creep up your nostrils and hang around there for a bit. So as you stare at the sneering screen, which is now starting to pull dirty faces at you, you get a sneezing fit of approximately 32 sneezes per 5 minutes.

(4) Then realizing that in no possible way can your limited grey cells grasp the amazingly complicated software that is Photoshop (which technically should be called HARDWARE because it’s so damn tough) you decide that it’s time to turn to someone else and burden them with your problems.

(5) As luck would have it, that one person who you know knows Photoshop…well his family decided it would be a great idea to stay in MALAD. (Why don’t you just travel to Saudi Arabia and do your project there? It’s nearly the same distance, and you might even catch a belly dance or two.)

(6) So you travel to Malad by the most comfortable, hygienic mode of transport available i.e. the friendly western railway, in the friendly company of 550 million other lovely, damp, buxom women who think that this is as good a time as any to play ’smell my smelly armpit’  with you.

(7) Then from 10 am to 5 pm you find yourself staring at another computer screen far, far away in a galaxy called Malad whilst your friend tries to shred together the few dregs that is your ad design project.

(8) On your way to college you get a call from the professor who wears a hair band that went out of fashion during the dark ages. She says that she is no longer willing to accept your project today since it is very late. So you can give up the project next Wednesday but to pay for your heinous crime of coming late to college she will cut your marks. (Why, she might as well just cut your throat and serve it as supper in the staffroom.)

(9)So you tread back home, defeated but not dead. You try out the CD which your most helpful friend burned your entire project on it. Turns out he, the clever one, has burnt an audio CD with some groovy Tamilian tracks on it. Maybe the knob called brightness in his brain wasn’t functioning.
Or maybe fate is playing the famed local train game of “smell my smelly armpit” with you today.


Next lesson – how to poke someone’s eyes out without getting blood on yourself.

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