Jose's sandals

Along time ago, so many years ago that we can no longer remember the exact date, there lived in a village in the south of Brazil a little seven-year-old boy called José. He had lost his parents when he was very, very young and had been adopted by a miserly aunt who, even though she had lots of money, spent almost nothing on her nephew. José, having never known the Meaning of love, assumed that this was simply the way life was and so it didn’t bother him at all. They lived in an extremely affluent neighborhood.

but the aunt persuaded the head teacher of the local school to take on her nephew for only a tenth of the normal tuition fee, threatening to complain to the Prefect if he declined her offer. The head teacher had no option but to agree; however, he instructed the teachers to take every opportunity to humiliate José in the hope that he would misbehave and give them a pretext for expelling him. José, having never known love, assumed that this was simply the way life was and so it didn’t bother him at all.

Christmas Eve arrived. The village priest was on holiday and all the pupils had to go to mass in a church some distance from the village. The girls and boys walked along, chatting about what they would find the next day beside the shoes they left out for Father Christmas: fashionable clothes, expensive toys, chocolates, skateboards, and bicycles. Since it was a special day, they were all well-dressed, all except José, who was wearing his usual ragged clothes and the same battered sandals several sizes too small (his aunt had given them to him when he was four, saying that he would only get a new pair when he was ten). Some of the children asked why he was so poor and said they would be ashamed to have a friend who wore such clothes and shoes. Since José had never known love, their questions and comments didn’t bother him at all.

However, when they went into the church, and he heard the organ playing and saw the bright lights and the congregation in their Christmas finery, saw families gathered together and parents embracing their children, José felt he was the most wretched of creatures. After communion, instead of walking back home with the others, he sat down on the steps of the church and began to cry. He may never have known love, but only at that moment did he understand what it was to be alone and helpless and abandoned by everyone.

Just then, he noticed another small boy beside him, barefoot and apparently as poor as he was. He had never seen the boy before and so assumed that he must have walked a long way to get there. He thought: ‘His feet must be really sore. I’ll give him one of my sandals. That will at least relieve half of his pain.’ Although José had never known love, he knew about suffering and didn’t want others to experience it too. He gave one of his sandals to the boy and returned home with the other one. He wore the sandal first on his right foot and then on his left, so that he didn’t bruise the soles of his feet too badly on the stones along the way. As soon as he reached home, his aunt noticed that he was wearing only one sandal and told him that if he didn’t find the other sandal the next day, he would be harshly punished.

José went to bed feeling very afraid because he knew what his aunt’s punishments were like. He lay all night trembling with fear, barely able to sleep at all, and then, just as he was about to drowse off, he heard voices in the front room. His aunt rushed in, demanding to know what was going on. Still groggy from lack of sleep, José joined their visitors and, in the middle of the front room, saw the sandal he had given to the little boy. Now, however, it was surrounded by all kinds of toys, bicycles, skateboards and clothes. The neighbors were shouting and screaming, declaring that their children had been robbed, because when they woke up, they had found nothing beside their shoes at all.

At this point, the priest from the church where they ad celebrated mass the previous day arrived all out of breath: on the steps of the church a statue of the Baby Jesus had appeared, clothed entirely in gold, but wearing only one sandal. Silence fell, everyone present praised God and his miracles, and the aunt wept and begged for forgiveness. And José’s heart was filled with the energy and the meaning of Love.

Disclaimer: This was not written by me, but a great author paulo coelho. I just felt it is very good so I posted it here.

Jeopardy at gym

Recently have been eating more than what a normal person should eat and this has inflated me much faster than a hot air balloon (now my friends call me football). I had acquired so much fat that a walrus would think that I am its distant cousin.

So to reduce the overgrown midsection I joined the college gym. My first impression of gym was “why the hell have they put so many mirrors here” (perhaps to show how fat I am from all sides). I got up in the morning 5:30 and started out to gym. It had been long time since I came out of house at this hour. The whole lane looked like a ghost town. As I walked down the lane a dog started following me, after a few minutes another dog joined in. then another dog joined in and started growling at me. This brought about ten dogs from no-where. All the dogs started barking at me. This was the most frightful situation I have ever been. I was sweating and shaking from head to toe, not knowing what to do I started running and all the dogs got excited and started chasing me. One god even snapped at me and got a piece of my pants. I ran as fast as I could and jumped into a nearby house. Phew this was the scariest moment in my entire life. The owner of the house woken up by all the noise came out with a cricket bat in his hand and chased away all the dogs. I thanked him with all my heart and made my way to gym, with a stick and some stones.

Finally I entered the gym hall, some people had already started working out. When I came in everyone looked at me as if a international sumo wrestler had just walked in. I went straight to the instructor’s office and knocked at the door. But the instructor had not yet come so I went back to gym hall and started walking on the treadmill. I had not even finished 1 lap and I was panting like a dog and had to stop for a drink. I saw some dumbbells lying nearby and a really dumb idea struck my head. I took a pair of 7.5 kg dumbbells and tried to lift it. Most of my fellow body builders were gaping at me. I did 2 counts and there was a sever pain in my left arm. The pain increased so rapidly that I couldn’t even keep the dumbbells down. I just rolled over like a gunny bag of peanuts. Thanks to the people looking at me they lifted me and took me to the hospital. A nice big guy had a car and gave me a ride.

The ride to hospital was memorable because the car I was sitting was a modified Skoda. He was driving at such a terrible speed that he could have been selected as F1 driver instead of Narain Karthikeyan. When we arrived at the hospital the doctor was sleeping on one of the beds reserved for patients. The nice bug guy bluntly shook him. The doctor was in such deep slumber that he screamed Ahhhh!

The doctor was surprised to such an extent that there was no trace of sleepiness after that. He examined my arm and gave me an injection. The needle was so big that it was probably ment for a cow but since I was so fat he used it on me. He said that I had a muscle tear, and had to rest my arm for a whole month.

The lesson learnt by this incident was dumbbells are for dumb people so be careful before you lift a dumbbell.

Litany of an idiot.

Litany of an idiot ( www.litanyofidiot.blogspot.com ) Yes, finally i changed the name of my blog. I dont know which part of my brain told me to change the name but i did it. it was a damn difficult but i did it. yeppppi. hurraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay i am so happy. hehhehhehehehhe

Train to pakistan: by Khushwant Singh

It is a heart wrenching story about Muslim and Hindu refugees who are slaughtered at the time of partition of India.

It is a very small book which can be finished in 5 hours. Those who want to know about partition must read this book. It highlights the mistakes done by people. It shows the mental attitude of people who have lost their near and dear ones. The social structure and hierocracy of people at the time of independence is nauseous. But in the end it creates a feeling of sympathy.

Rating (1-10): it gets 6.

The whole story is weaved around the village Mano Majra. Refugees who are coming to India are killed during their journey. A ghost train containing dead bodies of thousands of refugees arrives at Mano Majra. The same people who livd peacefully before get ready to kill all the Muslims going to Pakistan. Amidst all the violence there is love between a Muslim girl and a Sikh rowdy. The story also shows the inability of a learned man (Iqbal) to take action. The story ends with a little suspense. A life is sacrificed for the sake of good thing. The story resembles the film “Gadar”. In the end the story shows that love is much powerful than hatred.

About author: Khushwant Singh was born in 1915, his very first novel “train to Pakistan” is a major hit.

He was the editor of “New Delhi” magazine and “the Hindustan times”. He was a syndicate columnist. He is famous for critics and controversial views.

Bomb scare at PESIT

The college started today as usual. The classes commenced at 8:15 in the morning. There were not much of disturbances except that some students who came late tried to jump into the class through open window.

We get ½ an hour break after every 2 classes. During this time I went out to buy 2 refills for my pen. Outside the building a police bike was parked; nearby, its owner was talking to the principal of the college. While I was passing them, I heard the police say “its better to get all the students out” I should have guessed something fishy was going on, but at that time my pea brain was filled with thoughts of the girl walking next to me. I went outside college( as the campus mart was completely filled with students).i bought 2 refills from shop nearby and came back to college.

To my astonishment all the students were coming out of the building (as in film kindergarten cops) a mob was being created in the drive way. When I tried to enter the building a college security guard stopped me and said “you cannot go in” and asked me to stand with the rest of the students. I had left my bag in the classroom and I had to get it now. There is a saying that “there is a hero inside every one of us” the hero inside me probably did not have time sense, came out at this point.

Since they had blocked the main entrance of the building, our superhero (that’s me) tried to enter into the building from back gate 9near the canteen). My bag was still a hostage on the fourth floor of the building. So our superhero had to go up up and away to get it back. As I entered the building, I could hear the MI2 music going on in my head. Our superhero instead of using the stairs, jumps into the elevator with six other like him. But the elevator stopped at very first floor and a guard a hyperexitedly asked all of us to step out and go to drive way. But our stubborn superhero dose not give-up. He uses the stairs at the other end and reaches the second floor. There he is once again caught by a teacher, but this time the teacher personally took me out of the building.

There was a traffic jam in the driveway, other than this the situation was completely calm. Students were standing in groups talking jokes. When the principal declared holiday everyone shouted “yaaa”. Even though the whole building was evacuated the canteen was still running. A group of police care and sniffer dogs came into the seen. As I was standing in the driveway a cop was telling us to go out of campus. Even if a bomb had blown off just in front of him, nothing would have happened to him as he had a 7 inch thick armor of fat.

As me and my friends were going out of campus, the director was coming in, in his black SUV (Honda CRV). Finally we came out of college without even a single fart going off.

Orientation at PESIT

I was feeling a bit cheerful that my college is starting after 3 long months of uneventful holidays. At college I had orientation program on 11th of September. I had no idea that it would turn out like this.

The invitation to program said that it would start at 10 am (it mentioned nothing about end time, people at PES are very clever) I sincerely showed up at the gates of PES at 10:20 am (because of my cozy bed). I feverishly went into the auditorium, and found that it was completely packed (even balcony and upper balcony). As soon as I went in a volunteer came to me and hissed “come with me”. She took me directly near the stage and made me sit a row behind the ‘press’ table. The program had not yet started.

The program started with chief guest as the last arrival. He gave a genuine reason for being late. He said he had gone out with his wife for shopping (who in the hell would go shopping at 9:30 am) the program started of smoothly, after sometime I felt like going to toilet. Other than this nothing went wrong.

A man was seated beside me and a extremely beautiful girl after him. After a while the man got up and went off. I gave the girl a broad smile, but she looked at me as if I was a monster in clothes. So I quickly turned away from her. After few minutes I said “hi whats up”, but she got up and walked off to some other row (I can write a book on ‘how to make women hate you’) this incident made me bladder full. By the end of first secession I was excited to go to bathroom.

After first secession (in second secession) there was a lecture on rules and regulations of the college. In between the two secession we had 10 minutes break. When I got up to go to bathroom during break, the same old volunteer came and pushed me back “you are not supposed to leave, the program will continue shortly”. Before I could do anything the second secession started. The director of the institution started hammering us with his slide shows. The AC had made the hall so cold that I was shivering to keep myself warm. If you think that Antarctica is the coldest place on earth then you have not been to PES yet. Director even pointed out that it was the first time the AC was working fine without any glitches. But for me it was creating a hell lot of trouble. For the first time I cursed the guy who invented AC with all the slang I ever knew. I had to sit in this condition of next 1 hour. By the end of the secession so much pressure had been created that it could have need used as a water canon. (used to disperse crowd)

Finally I came out of the hall feeling very very sick. It was an orientation program and there was no direction for restroom. Suddenly I started panicking (what if there is no toilet here). My bladder was so full I would have flooded the whole building. I asked a guy who was standing near me for directions to bathroom. He told me that that there is a bathroom in basement. To tell u the truth, it is damn painful to climb stairs when your bladder is full. By the time I reached the toilet most of my underwear was soaked. Finally I emerged out of bathroom feeling really really happy.

Dear friends it is once in a lifetime experience so I hope you all have privilege to be in a situation like me.

Disclaimer: author has no connection with the person in this post. So don’t mistake me.

Mystries unzipped

Hai everybody, what i am about to say is one of the most embarrassing situation a teacher can face. Most of the things here is truth and i have added a bit of masala to spice it up. But 90% of this story is true. For teacher's protection i have not revealed his name.

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I never usually sat anywhere in front benches, actually i always sat in last two rows (LLB). But that day I don't know what got into my mind, I accidentally sat in second bench. Right up close to the teacher. As usual the teacher came in 10 minutes late. I never used to stand up when a teacher walked in but since I was in second bench i had to. By the time i had settled down the teacher had put his book and chalk on the table and was standing in front of us . The class had uncanningly gone silent, I opened my book slowly and lifted my head to take a look at the teacher but the horror occurred to me instantly, the teacher had left his fly open. He had probably came all the way from home without even noticing that he had not zipped his pants. I had to cover mouth to stop myself from laughing (but never covered my eyes). Through the open hole i could clearly see his blue underwear, i could even make out 3 letters J, K, Y on it. The zip was so wide that a herd of rhinos could charge in. I even heard some girls gasp. Every 10 minutes he had a habit of touching his belly during class or i may say rubbing his belly. As he was rubbing, he went lower than usual and and to his horror this time, his fingers went right into his open zip. As if he had some kind of superpower he flashed out of the room and back in less than 1/4th of a second. He had even zipped up his pants within that span of time. I couldn't believe that such a hefty person could move so quickly. When he returned to class he was so embarrassed that his face had become as red as a tomato. He continued to teach as if nothing had happened. But one thing i surely noticed that he never touched his belly that day.

Alchemist: by Paulo coelho

It is the best book I have ever read in my entire life. It is the most inspiring and fascinating book ever written.

It may take maximum of 6 hours to completely read the book. I consider it as number one book all over the world. There is not a single point in the book which is boring. It is a book which can be appreciated only by reading it. It creates an urge to do something in life. It is a great source of inspiration for depressed people. Those who have not read the book are ignorant fools. People of all age, religion and sex can read this book. It shows that one must not give up, no matter how difficult the goal is. The main of the story is “one should follow his dream”. It will surely inspire you if you care to read it. You can get a soft copy (e-book) here .

Rating (1-10): it gets 9.

It is book about a boy named Santiago who dreams of finding a treasure. He is a shepherd who lives on day to day basis. After hearing to old man’s words he starts his journey to find his treasure. He learns to recognize omens (good or bad). His journey gets stalled shortly after start. With hard work and persistence he gets back on track. He crosses Sahara desert to reach Egypt. On the way he meets alchemist, learns about love. He finally becomes an alchemist himself. He gives up his love to find destiny. He reaches pyramid in Egypt where his treasure is buried. To know whether he finds his treasure or not you should read the book. In all it is a extremely beautiful story.

About author: The Brazilian author PAULO COELHO was born in 1947 in the city of Rio de Janeiro. Before dedicating his life completely to literature, he worked as theatre director and actor, lyricist and journalist.

In 1982 Coelho published his first book, Hell Archives, which failed to make any kind of impact. In 1985 he contributed to the Practical Manual of Vampirism, although he later tried to take it off the shelves, since he considered it “of bad quality”. In 1986, PAULO COELHO did the pilgrimage to Saint James of Compostella, an experience later to be documented in his book The Pilgrimage.

In the following year, COELHO published The Alchemist. Slow initial sales convinced his first publisher to drop the novel, but it went on to become one of the best selling Brazilian books of all time.

Other titles include Brida (1990), The Valkyries (1992), By the river Piedra I sat Down and Wept (1994), the collection of his best columns published in the Brazilian newspaper Folha de São Paulo entitle Maktub (1994), the compilation of texts Phrases (1995), The Fifth Mountain (1996), Manual of a Warrior of Light (1997), Veronika decides to die (1998), The Devil and Miss Prym (2000), the compilation of traditional tales in Stories for parents, children and grandchildren (2001), Eleven Minutes (2003), The Zahir (2005).

To date, Coelho has sold a total of 75 million copies and, according to the magazine Publishing Trends; he was the most sold author in the world in 2003 with his book Eleven Minutes – even though at the time it hadn’t been released in the United States, Japan or 10 other countries!

Also according to Publishing Trends, The Alchemist was to be found in the 6th place of world sales in 2003. Eleven Minutes topped all lists in the world, except for England, where it was in second place. The Zahir, published in 2005, was in third place of bestsellers according to Publishing Trends, after Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code and Angels & Demons.

The book has been praised by different personalities ranging from the Nobel Prize Kenzaburo Oe to the singer Madonna, who considers it one of her favourite books. It has equally inspired many projects – such as a musical in Japan, theatre plays in France, Belgium, USA, Turkey, Italy, Switzerland. It is also the theme of two symphonies (Italy and USA) and had its text illustrated by the famous French artist Moebius (author of the sceneries for he Fifth Element and Alien).

His work has been translated in 62 languages, and edited in more than 150 countries.

S.O.S. From bathroom

Hello I am back. This story is about students who get an opportunity to take revenge against a teacher. This is a true life incident which happened about six to seven years ago in our college. I heard this story from a friend. I will tell the story in first person as if I was one of the students involved in the scandal.

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Before I start the story, I need to give a brief description of our college bathroom (for all those who haven’t seen it or smelled it). If anyone ranked all the torture chambers in the world then our toilet would be placed right next to Nazis death camp (gas chamber). First of all there is no mirror or wash basin. Everyone might have seen how a man stands and pisses into a wall mounted urinal. But ours is slightly different as there is a wall but no mounted urinal and the screen (a slab) which bifurcates is slightly low so that one can see what the next person is doing. There are three desi type commodes where one can do both 1 and 2. These obviously have a little bit more privacy, with walls on all sides and a door with a lock. But the walls do not touch the ceiling. The wall is only about 9 feet high from ground and 3 feet short to roof. At any pint of time there will be something floating in the water. I had once gone in and it was so revolting that I had to come out without doing anything.

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No one was as eager as my friend Ravi to get out of PLM’s (a teacher) classt that day. Even though there was only 10 minutes left for lunch break, my friend couldn’t control it and went up to the teacher and asked him “may I go to toilet, sir”. A wicked smile lurked across his face and he said “Innu 10 minutes ashte erodu control madkond kutko” (there is only 10 minutes left, control yourself) My friend with extremely disappointed face came back to last bench. This became the next topic of discussion in our bench. We were all making fun of poor Ravi, when suddenly PLM shouted at us “enu 10 nimsha sumne kuthkolakke agalva” (why can’t you sit quietly for 10 minutes). He pointed at Ravi and said “come here and write this diagram” My friend who was already bladder full looked as if he will do it right there. He somehow walked upto stage and as he was about to draw on the board the bell rang. Without even asking teacher’s permission he put the chalk down and ran out of class room.

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I and two other friends went looking for Ravi as he had not returned even after 20 minutes since he had ran out. As we approached the toilet, Ravi came out wiping his hands on his handkerchief. We met near the door and I asked them to wait for me, so that I can give my contribution and flood the Kengeri river. As I was doing my business PLM walked into the toilet and went directly into one of the desi commode chamber and locked the door. I don’t know what came over me that instant. I slowly went to the door where PLM was and bolted it from outside. In the excitement I ran outside and told my friends “Maga PLMna bathroom olge koodhakbitno” (I locked PLM in bathroom). All four of us went in and started laughing at what I had done. Suddenly Ashok got a brilliant idea and banged on the door, making as much sound as he can. PLM yelled from inside “oye yavano adu” ( Who is it?). we all started laughing (now loudly) when he tried to open the door. As if this wasn’t enough Ravi got another super dooper idea. He took some water and splashed it into the bathroom through the uncovered top. This had reached the limit of PLM. He was so angry that all he could say was some slang L*****, A** ****, Son ** * ***** etc. We all walked out as if nothing had happened leaving the poor teacher banging on the door.

Shantaram: By Gregory David Roberts

I basically started this blog to write book reviews. I have read some books and I am going to write my thoughts about them.

Shantaram is written by Gregory David Roberts. it is a real life story. It is a good story with some funny incidents. It has both love and blood. The explanation is very very good but sometimes lengthy. Those who liked Papillion will like this book. Standard of English is good. It does not have much of suspense but it will keep you reading. It is being made as a movie with Johnny Depp and Shah Rukh Khan staring in it. I guess it will be a good movie. A sequel of this book is being made too. All questions of this book will be solved.

Rating: if i was to rate (1-10) this book then it gets 6

It is a life story of a gangster; he escapes from Australia prison and lands at Mumbai. He lives in famous Mumbai slum. He falls in love with a girl named karla. He makes powerful friends and enemies. He gets arrested and tortured in a Indian jail. He ultimately joins Mujahideen in Afghanistan to fight Russia (it is a 1980’s story so Afghans were against Russia at that time, USA was helping Afghans example Rambo movie) the situation during starvation is explained beautifully. When he comes back to Mumbai, a gang war starts. He joins a side and blood is spilled and he survives.

About author: Gregory David Roberts was born in Melbourne in 1952. After surviving the events dealt with in Shantaram. He was captured in Germany in 1990 and eventually extradited to Australia. On completing his prison sentence, he established a small multi-media company and is now a full time writer. He lives in Melbourne.

me with in gokart

A letter to everyone

I had been to my friend’s house last week for his birthday party (its in Mumbai). I was searching for a pen in his cupboard, I couldn't find a pen but I found this amazing letter. It looked like some one had made paper plane from a torn page of a note book, and smoothened it out again. My friend just came in and told me that he had found it on the terrace. It was probably written by some 11 year old kid. I felt a bit touchy about it and thought that this should be published so I have posted this on the blog.

Dear god,

I am Pramodh, I don’t have the address of all the victims of Mumbai blast so I am writing it to you so that you can send this to everyone.

On July 11, Jagath took a 1st class ticket to return home. He had promised me that he will buy a new bat for me. He did not come home that evening, but tomorrow a volunteer came home and told us that my father was one of the victims of the blast. He took us to the hospital. My dad was kept in I.C.U. chamber. They did not let us in, but the doctor told us that he had a head injury and his left arm was missing. A piece of metal had pierced into his stomach and they had not yet removed it. They said that that the chance of living is very low. The volunteer stayed with us the whole day and comforted us. The doctor said that my dad will be shifted to another hospital for better care. The hospital bill was Rs 25,000 the volunteer paid Rs 15,000 from his own pocket and rest was paid by hospital itself. Even after two weeks my dad’s condition had not yet stabilized. The volunteer came once every two days to make sure that everything was right.

I would not have written this letter if my dad was still alive, he died day before yesterday in hospital. He never hated any terrorist. He used to say that they were humans too, we should talk to them and not use arms against them. But they have taken my dad away. They murdered many people that day. I hope that their death will be painful. I am going to make sure that their death will be painful. I am joining the army to fulfill my hope.

I would like to thank all the volunteers for their help and generosity. Just after the blast many volunteers came to rescue the people who were hurt. All the blood banks were shut down not because of shortage of blood, but because of too many volunteers were there to donate blood. They have showed that a mere terrorist organization cannot stop Mumbai or India on its way to glory. A terrorist may blow up himself, killing 10 people but there are still 1 billion living. A day after the blast all the trains were resumed, this clearly shows that we are not afraid of any terrorist. Jai hindh.

Yours,
Pramodh.

Please tell me how you feel about it. If you have any stories like this feel free to contact me.

myself

akash the great

Hell in the cell

All of you might have experienced the mayhem in CET cell during seat selection. You might have a different opinion about it, but this is what I experienced in CET cell.

I had both comedk and cet seat selection on same day. The comedk selection was at 12.30 pm and cet was at 2 pm. I had no idea how long the seat selection might take so I went to NMKRV College at 12.20 The bad day started when I found that I had left the DD at home. My dad scolded me for almost everything (you know how parents shout at you when you make mistake) I had to ride back home at full speed and get the DD. Finally I was there, 15 minutes late. At document verification counter, I was shocked when they asked me for photocopy of comedk rank card, I had to once again run out and get a Xerox copy of it. I was the last one to enter the seat selection hall. The screens in the hall was so small that even if I had a pair of binoculars it would be difficult to make out which college they are showing right now. After some real hard squinting I got a name of some college and wrote it on the paper they had given. I had hardly finished writing the name when they called me onto the stage. I had selected only one college and without even asking me the guy behind the counter got me registered to that college and asked me to get off the stage. It was already 1.45 pm when I got off the stage. As if this wasn’t enough when my term came for submitting the DD the power went off. It took 15 minutes for auxiliary power to start the damn printer again. When I came out it was already 2.05 pm. The CET seat selection had already started. We had to horn the hell out of other drivers to make way.

It took 35 minutes for us to reach the CET cell. The CET cell was so crowded that there was not even a single parking place. It took 15 minutes to find parking space which was somewhere behind the CET cell. It was already 3 o’clock when I reached the entrance. Somewhere above to right I heard a loud speaker calling for students of rank 1000 behind me. I had to check mine, my dad’s and a neighbor’s watch to make sure it was 3 o’clock. I could not believe that they were still 1000 rank behind me (I was already 1 hour late)

At the entrance of the CET cell they had put a temporary roof and some chairs below it. It was so crowded that I felt as if I was in a ocean of people. The chairs to people ratio was around 2:5. To overcome the lack of chairs people were sitting on walls and other places where they found it was clean enough to sit. I had to stand for next 1 hour until someone in front of me got up and went off ( I had to fight for it with someone who also wanted a chair). When I sat down the loud speaker was calling students (they all looked like uncles rather than students) of rank still 800 behind me. They had done only 200 seats for 1 hour. I had to sit there for 4 hours (god 4 hours) until my rank was called. French invented solitary confinement to torture prisoners, Nazis invented the gas chambers and the CET cell has its own method of torturing students. They make you sit in front of a large screen for hours together, and we have to tick off the colleges which are being filled. When it comes to torture, I am sure even Yamraj is a step behind CET cell.

When you sit in a place for hours without going anywhere (in fear that someone might take away my chair); you will are bound to notice things around you. The things I noticed were, it was literally a beehive. In front of me there was a line of people, no it was actually a wall of people. They had created such a strong fortress that even the combined force of Israel and American tanks would not have been able to break through it. The wall was absolutely invincible as it was constantly replenished by more people. In there it was so jam packed that even a small bomb used in deepavali (small red ones) would have killed more people than the Mumbai train blast. Next was the guy who was using that loudspeaker, I guess he was liquor distributor of last election and it was taking toll on him right now. A girl was sitting beside me and had a mobile phone with her. Every 15 minutes she would call up her friend (as if she had phone with free talk time) and say

Chick with vaccum head: hey XXXX collegenalli seat agogedye yen madle? (all seat are filled in XXXX college what shall I do?)
Miss all known (on other end of phone): houdha ishtbega khali agoytha. (What? It got over so quickly?)
Chick with vaccum head: hoom kane. Nanu ivaga yavdu togollli? Nanu civil thogothini ashte. Civil thumba kashta anthe houdha? Intrest ildaleidre pass agodhu kashta anthe houdha? (Yes, now what shall I do? I will take civil engineering. Is it true that it it very difficult?)
Miss all known: houdhu kane, civil intrest ildaleidre thumba kashta sumne C.S athava I.S thogo. (Yes it is very difficult, take C.S or I.S engineering)
Chick with vaccum head: Aythu kane, innu 10 nimsha bittu madthini baye. (Ok I will call you later bye).

There are many species of people and this ought to be one of the rarest kind.

Finally at 7 o’clock they called me in. they gave me a blue form and asked me to fill the details. Even inside the chairs were not enough and I had to fill the form resting it on the wall for support. i guess the people at CET cell were taking revenge on us on behalf of all the teachers. They had taken every step to make sure that seat selection was one of the worst experience in student life. I finally filled the form with four holes in it (caused by pen due to lack of support to write) I had to wait for another 45 minutes (standing) in the hall. My father met someone (a CET officer and a friend) and they started talking. After 15 minutes I asked the lady behind counter when was my turn? The lady told that I was late and all others of my rank had already gone in. (I was there for 1 hour and they had announced nothing at all). Suddenly the women who was taking our sign started scolding me “yenappa nenge gynana illva, ishtu lateagi barbardu antha gothillva.” (what is in your head? Don’t you know you should come early). I was shocked at this, but I replied politely “sorry nange gothaglilla, adre nanu ille idde.” (sorry I did not know, but I was right here). Then again the women shouted at me “enu kathe kaytha iddya” (what the hell were you doing?) I was already hungry and angry this infuriated me and I replied “nanu lateagi bandre nimgenu. Nim kelsa nevu nodkolli” (what if I came late? Just mind your own job) I just walked off without waiting for a reply.

Next was the document verification hall. They had arranged 2 seats in 8 rows. There was a guy who was misdirecting people. Yes, he was making chaos there. He was shouting at people without any reason at all. He made some people go front and some back and others standing. Everything would have been in order if he wasn’t there. He was just making this experience more worse. Finally I sat on a chair (after changing 3 chairs on his direction). To my bad luck someone in front of me got stuck during verification and it took about 15 minutes for him to certify that he was a homosapein (just kidding).

After half an hour I was in seat selection hall. Here again 4 seats were arranged in 3 rows. At the end they had 3 large screens showing the college status. But the hall was so long (about 1km in length and 10mts in breadth). That it was difficult to recognize the numbers and names on the screen. After another half an hour waiting, they called me. After all this waiting shouting and everything I did not choose any college. You know why………………… because I had already chosen a better college through comedk. I felt like killing myself and all others around me. i was the dumbest guy in the whole world at that time. Finally when I came out it was 9 o’clock (time scheduled was 2-4.30). There were 600 more rank to go still after me. I went to a nearby U.D. hotel thinking of all the mistakes I had done today.