What other dream could I have

 

Yesterday while I was dusting down an old collection of mine …… which comprised of all those wwe and cricket cards , a huge bunch of pokemon tazzos and zenga cards ( I still remember how I used to buy Uncle Chips almost every other day in order to collect these things…..) , a lot of tattoos and stickers (I don’t know for what I saved them …. ) , few of my horrible paintings (some of them were really very very horrible indeed…..) and few of those group photographs with my classmates ………not to mention few uninvited guests in the form of spider and roaches who seemed to find a shelter in that old box …….

While I was turning over pages of a diary , I encountered a piece of parchment that was strategically placed somewhere in the middle ….. I closely looked at the words scribbled on the paper…….It was a poem…..and that too in my handwriting……Inference….sometime back in high school , a poet took birth within me for a day or two …..

The poem sounds a bit childish ….. and is dedicated to my favorite game then , TENNIS……it goes off the tone at few places …. but still I would love to share it with you ……It starts like this….

What other dream could I have
but to go to All England Tennis Club

to see class of Roger Federer
who hardly commits any error

to see serve of Andy Roddick
who is simply fantastic

to see swiftness of Lleyton Hewitt
whose shots makes his opponent sweat

to see Andre Agassi’s service return
seeing which even the moon burns

to see stylish Pete Sampras
who easily surpasses everyone’s class

to see volley of Tin Henman
who is the pride of Great Britain

to see Leander Paes’ attitude
watching whom is itself a gratitude

to see Rafael Nadal’s power play
who is undoubtedly king of the clay

to see Sharapova’s forehand
which receives an applause from the stand

to see Jimmy Connor’s sportsmanship
which makes him win so many championships

to see Navratilova’s lovely nature
which provides her such a high stature

to see win in a tie-break of Nicolas Keifer
which makes his opponent’s coach whisper

to see the upset created by Giles Muller
whom tennis ball complaint to be a killer

and to hear Vijay Amritraj’s comment on the center court
who is as usual wearing his stylish black coat .

The ending might not be very convincing……..but don’t forget I was just a one day old novice poet …… Do give me a bit of excuse …… 😛

My school days

When I came to St. Antony’s it was my 7^th school and on the last day of my school life in the farewell party I was the most happiest guy ….. because finally I was leaving the college ….. finally I was leaving the place which I loathed the most ….. unlike most of you , my school was nothing special to me ….. the reason being its management plus the teachers …… they would never appreciate you on your success but were the first one to say something to you on your failure ….. I hit the 90 mark both in X and XII but still I was threatened again and again in my final year by a psycho called Mr. Joshi ….. his favorite sentence being ,” I will hand over TC to you” …..

These dudes were always ready with their armory …… if they saw us becoming friends they used to mix up the sections ….. if we bunked for one day after the school picnic they would impose a fine …. $$$$$ ….. if we write on desk another fine …… if we break down the blackboard ,even then there was a fine ( giving an afterthought that fine might be a bit sensible 😛 )….. fines were the order of the day ….. and to buy tickets for a third grade fete was made compulsory …. Excellent …..

We endured everything till first year ….. all the compulsory Camlin All India Color Contests ( in the six years I never understood what I painted) …… deadly teaching of deadly teachers like Habdi (nick name)….. all the blames of being arrogant and undisciplined …… But in the final year it was not the teachers who were bossing around ….. It was us who were the boss ….. the tag of being the “worst batch ever” was something we hold up as a pride …..

That last year was really the best in my school life …… Just imagine the scene ….. Teacher teaching maths …… students busy in copying physics homework …. Others droozing …… and suddenly two cool blokes stand up and started exchanging blows …… dhishoom dhishoom …… teacher running to director’s office …… and the the students being escorted away with an air of pride about themselves …. Maths class can be so much fun ……

Or let it be the comparative exams …. 17 dudes absent …..mass bunking the exams does not seemed to be anice idea ….. the principal did not believe that all of us fell ill on the same day …..too bad …… parents rung up as a result……but no letting down of our spirits…….our actions included engineering rockets at the teacher’s back ….. the sound of falling tiffin box ….. comments from the back benchers …… As a result we were shifted to the classroom in front of staff room …. Plus a camera in the room …. Feels like a VIP …..

We use to diagnose all possible angles to avoid camera ….. even rotating camera towards the wall before assembly …. Result = a furious management ….. our moral science classes used to extend a bit more now …. With all the lectures on why should you not throw “I LUV U” chits in the class …… why should you not steal balls from the mouse (Yeah …. Our computer lab resembled Jurassic Era with the absence of digital mouse) ….. why should we not use abusive languages …. Why should we not go to cyber cafes …. Why should we not paste fake leave notices on campus’ gate ….. why should we not snatch lunch from juniors 😉 …… why should we respect teachers (mystery question indeed ) ……

But as they say …. Raat gayi Baat gayi …… every new day same old routine …… and we took all our revenge in our final year …… to the extent that teachers were beaming with joy at our farewell ….. some of the teachers left the college because of us ….. Victory ……. Though I hated my school to the core …. I will always cherish what we did the final year …..

My coaching days

I still remember that day ….. we were sitting in the school library ….. suddenly saw an ad by one of the coaching institutes which said something like “Cracking IIT was never so simple”…… Pawan remarked that we should go for coaching from some institute or the other …. I agreed … so did Pranay and we joined the coaching within a week ……

Those days spent in Hazratganj were one of the best moments of my school life …. since I have never been a great fan of my school …. I used my coaching as an excuse to bunk the school …. And the best incident which I could relate to was when all the three of us bunked a comparative exam …. and when I returned I was greeted with the threatening call from my principal…..same was the case with both of them too …. unexpectedly 17 students bunked that exam….damn cool…..principal’s face on hearing this news would have been worth watching ……

I always hated my teachers for not giving us proper credit … we three being the toppers of the college…..all the threats of holding our admit card …. not handing over TCs……increased my hatred towards the administration rather than anything else ….. We did gave Board exams against all the odds ….. and all the three of us hit 90 mark …..Pranay being the topper with 95.75%…..mine was the second best with 94%…..and pawan with 93%……..slap on the face of director…..Hurray…..

Entrance results out…..best place anyone got to was Pranay……in IIT’s extended merit list…….Pawan and me , knowing that we won’t be giving our 100% in any case , if we dropped , decided to take admission somewhere ….. Pawan got CS Galgotia…….and harsh came to EC RKGIT …..with all the plans to change the branch next year…..And what about Pranay ????…….He has always been the most hard working among us …. he decided to prepare one more year …. and now he is waiting for IIT counselling …. AIR 379 ….. and all india AMU topper …..he did hit the jackpot ……