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Ramblings of an Unscholarly Mind… April 24, 2008

Posted by K in Diary, Extreme Nostalgia, Friends, Funny, Life, Lyrics, Maiden, Nonsense.
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2 comments

To counter my absolute blankness when faced with the books I am supposed to answer 75 marks worth questions on, I opened my notebooks. I had a total of four notebooks this year (no, make that five…I think) to take, well, notes, and I had picked them all with tender loving care. My favourite one was the one with the champagne glass on the cover. It’s appeal is obvious πŸ˜‰ Then there was the breathtaking art on the red one, which I reserved for one of my ex-favourite teachers. The one with the abandonment and music on the cover was rather nice as well, but the point I am trying to make, is that these beauteous notebooks…contain no classnotes.

I flip page after page, and find graffiti, doodles, graffiti, maiden, graffiti and…you get the picture. So I thought I would dedicate this post to my class time activities. Let me reproduce here the things that held my attention, while the rest of the class was (presumably) engaged in scholarly pursuit.

  • 29/02/08 (I have a habit of obsessively dating my ‘notes’) : In parentheses- Chucked out of previous two classes for not reading text *grin*

This would be the Conrad class, where for about 3-4 four classes the teacher taught 5 out of some 40 students, because the rest hadn’t read Heart of Darkness, teehee.

  • 15/02/08 (This is in Pallavi’s handwriting; we were mocking something, but I forgot what…) ‘Every woman needs her daily male’
  • 22/01/08 sees the pictoral, stick figure representation of The Life of A. Parthosarathy, and involves an attempt of said gentleman to understand his solitude…’cept there’s a power-cut and he forgets the question. I shall try and post a pic of it sometime.
  • 24/01/08: Pictoral depiction of two clouds trying to eat each other.
  • 18/01/08: ‘Fresh, crust, roast, crisp, crunch’. An enumeration of my favourite food sounds (I think I was hungry,lol)
  • 03/03/08: ‘We sail away… On ships of wonder’ Beautiful lyrics from Rainbow. Catch the Rainbow, I think. Minor case of ear worming, I think.
  • 29/01/08: A stylized ‘REAPERS REPOSE’. Two Eddies on the page, and the inevitable SCREAM FOR ME MUMBAI!!! Iron Maiden Somewhere Back in Time.
  • 17/01/08: “Give me freedom, or kill me!”
  • 20/09/07: In a Swift class, discussing the living dead, the Struldbrugs in Gulliver’s Travels – ‘Dead-in-Law’ Har har har.
  • 4/12/07: I was apparently in a ‘familial’ mood. Figures drawn of Eddie’s Mother, and Harlequin’s brother.
  • 17/01/ 08: scribbled along the margin top of the page- ‘sleepy sleepy sleepy Gray sleepy sleepy sleepy’. This was during a lecture on Thomas Gray, delivered by a teacher who is quite good, but unfortunately, possesses quite a soporific drone πŸ™‚
  • 4/12/07(etched in blood, it says): (Hertfordshire) doesn’t get Maiden… Mumbai does. *GRIN* MODERN MAN fell asleep. Eddie woke him up and said “Will you scream for Bangalore? I am trying to shift the MAIDEN…INDIA…2008 venue.”
  • 17/10/07: Rama Rama Melodrama Sniff sniff sneeze Fly with the breeze Eat your pen Inhale.
  • 30/10/07: In a DH Lawrence Sons and Lovers class- ‘Mother did actually want to be a man’. ‘ Miriam…books did not matter to her’. (In my defense: I was busy admiring graffiti on desks in all DH Lawrence classes)
  • 29/08/07– Lots of Maiden… ‘Transcendental Eddie’.……’IRON MAIDEN OWNS YOUR SOUL (YOU JUST DON’T KNOW IT YET πŸ˜‰ ) …………..Air Harris!……………FREEZE YOUR SOUL AND MAYBE EDDIE WON’T EAT YOU HAIR \m/

And so on, and so forth πŸ™‚ I think I shall put up a post with all the graffiti I copied from desks…they deserve to be read πŸ˜€ What creativity people show, I tell you! πŸ˜€

I haven’t played in a while April 16, 2007

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, Diary, Extreme Nostalgia.
4 comments

Β I should be studying Sartre and Neitzsche and their brothers in arms, but I thought I’d do this instead.

It suddenly struck me that I haven’t played in quite a while. Infact, I don’t think I’ve played since I left school. Sure, I go for NSO, but I haven’t had any fun there.

I used to be a compulsive player in school. Not a serious sportsperson, mind, but a player. The sports periods used to be one of the things I lived for, and every two minutes (or more, depending on which school I was en πŸ˜‰ ) we got between classes, or even a sort-of-free period, we played. In Shri Ram it was wall ‘squash’, or ‘table tennis’ or ‘football’ or ‘cricket’, or we just ran down to the (huge!) sports field which was right behind Cluster B, the senior block.

In sanskriti, the sports facilities were pretty bad, and enthusiasm levels were pretty low. We had to argue for cricket equipment almost every time. Thus classroom ‘sports’ became my personal saviour. Here we played footsie/sockey. Footsie/sockey is an interesting game. You denude a chair of one of its rubber shoes, check if its heavy enough, and pretend its a football/hockey puck. You stand two goalies at two ends and try to kick the puck in. If you score, you tabulate.

I liked goaly-ing. I used to stand around and just stick my foot out. My foot stopped all goals. My foot was a good goaly, haha πŸ˜€ I even have a souvenir from those days; one of my toe nails is shorter than another. Aditya’s foot had an unexpected meeting with my toe while he was mid kick. And Aditya kicks hard . lol.

The footsie/sockey used to irritate most teachers, but they bore with us…most of the times πŸ˜€ Ofcourse, when we moved up to Class 12, it wasn’t possible to continue because the rooms were smaller. The gardens came in handy then. It was actually possible to play cricket/football with actual cricket/football equipment.

Sigh.

Malcontent January 9, 2007

Posted by K in Extreme Nostalgia, Reviews/Rants.
2 comments

Atleast, presently. Sigh. My keyboard class is infested with 6-7 year olds. Some might be a wee bit older, but they all look the same. There are about 5-6 of them, and I, a 19 year old, feel a weebittle OVERAGE! The ‘adult batch’, of 2-3 people or so I was told, is nowhere to be seen. They are ‘on leave’. Only, nobody seems to know when they get ‘off leave’. I asked. Twice. The music teacher did not know. So I asked the gentleman at the reception. Who took me to the music teacher. The three of us had a conversation, I was asked to stay back and check out how well he teaches the vocal music students, and by the time I walked out, I realised I still didn’t know when the ‘adult’ batch was coming back.Hm. Something doesn’t smell too good. And I wonder why Priest’s Lochness is playing over and over in my head.

My first class was okay; I was excited to hear Mera Juta Hai Japani on the keyboard and excited that my fingers still moved. The initial euphoria fizzled out today, however, as I had my second doze of afore-mentioned kids. Not that they’re bad kids…they sit quietly enough, and keep an appropriate distance, but, well, I’m still a 19 year old stuck amongst toddlers.Hmph. Mr. Teacher(don’t know his name yet) penned down the remainder of the songs, but I couldn’t help comparing it to my last teacher’s way of doing things. The last gentleman, Mr. Sharma, was a brilliant musician and a brilliant teacher. His notes were clear on paper, not just S R G Ms lined up against each other, and he pushed me, and took my finger movements to another level. He was very amazing. I stopped classes in class 8, as far as I remember, because of ‘increasing academic load’. Fool!*Hits self on head* Anyway, its probably very unfair to compare, so I will give myself one month to adjust and adapt. And I will try my best to multiply the ages of the little beings around me by atleast 3. Slash that; even 2 will do.

note: It seems even my keyboard is missing the good ol’ days; its been weeping tears of black rubber, proof of which can be found on my jeans, my bed, and the carpet at Sangeet Sh–.

And more… December 2, 2006

Posted by K in Extreme Nostalgia, From The Attic, Life, Poem.
7 comments

My Ring

This was my second poem of sorts..written in class 6, so that would make me…10/11. I remember a little maroon diary that I had appropriated and put in scary drawings to keep people off my property :). I used that diary for the first time when I needed rough paper for a rough draft of a project in history, but ended up making it my own, in all senses of the word. The first poem in that diary, and in my life (in a matter of speaking) was called My Shadow (and no, it was not a misnomer πŸ™‚ ), and I remember being so surprised that it rhymed regularly enough, and had some sort of a rhythm. I was so kicked that I proceeded to write this second poem the very same day :). When this ended, I was on a high. I liked what I wrote, I surprised myself, and that unleashed my ‘poetry wave’,lol. I think I must have got in 20-30 poems in 2 years. I remember i particularly favoured long, ‘epical’ poems, :D:D, and I still have pages and pages of eulogising a bud(flower bud), a spirit, among other things πŸ™‚

I’m not going to apologise for unleashing this one.. πŸ™‚ ; I’m still very fond of it πŸ™‚

 

On every market day,

When men and women so gay

Sell their wares

And attend fairs

I hold up a little ring

And start to sing

β€œCome and get it!

Come and get it!

This ring

Is fit for a king,”

I continue to sing.

β€œLook at this pearl,

Fit for an Earl

Do not miss this chance

And have a glance

At this pearl

Fit for an Earl”.

The day whizzes by,

And darkness lights the sky.

I give a sigh,

My hopes are still high

Someday,someone will by my ring

Till then, I will continue to sing,

On every market day,

When men and women so gay,

Sell their wares

And attend fairs…