Arbit rubbish

Okay, so yesterday, completely frustrated with my quant marks in the latest AIMCAT, I decided to not write CAT, sell the CAT form and buy myself a nice pair of Levis with that money.
But then a little voice in my head asked me if I really meant the threat that I was threatening myself with .
No, I did not.

Thats the way I am .
Sometimes I get a major kick out of the rubbish drama that I do.I think I would be the winner of the 'International Drama Queen Worlwide 'Competition , were poeple more sensible and did organise useful competitions of this kind rather than wasting money and energy in organisng Olympiads and such crap.
Anywayz...All great men have teachers who inspire them...and my greatest inspiration comes from my teacher..

There was this teacher in class 8, who was as conky as I was, am and shall always be.She actually cried in front of the whole class just coz I was crying!
Can you beat that!!!
As far as I can recall..I used to be her pet.Maxxxx waala.And she was maxxx senti about me.
So one fine day she gave me some work of tremendous importance which I did.Something happened and she thought I had messed it up and she shouted at me and I cried buckets .But as luck would have it she soon realised that she was wrong and that I had done the work as per the instructions.
So, she felt very sorry ..and she said she was sorry and then she cried infront of the class and told us some stuff about Jesus ..cried a little more, patted my head and told us a little more about Jesus and the spirit of forgiveness.
And then she asked me to forgive her.
I debated whether it would be okay if I patted her head , but then I dropped the idea and said something like,"Ma'am , please don't say that" and tried to look kind and forgiving and imagined a camera focussed on me and some kind gentle music playing in background.In the next scene I imagined myself in a flowing white gown, in some exotic place looking gently into the camera while the junta watching sighed and hoped that their daughters would turn into women as kind and gentle as I was.


She has been my inspiration when it comes to drama ever since that fateful day.

There are some poeple who are always camera conscious.Does not matter if there isnt a camera infront of them.They just think that there is a camera focussing on them .Always.
There is this I-put-10-kgs-of-makeup-for-the-EU-class-each-day girl at my choching.She sits , flicks her hair, puts one hand on the other and smiles as she stares at the leg of the table while the teacher drones on and on and on about the subtle difference between 'few ' and 'a few'.
Now, I always think that the I-put-10-kgs-of-makeup-for-the-EU-class-each-day girl thinks there is a camera focussed on her.She walks slowly and smiles at the walls and the A.C and the table .Her eyes always have that glassy look and sometimes I have seen her pout at the wall, her head turned a 180 degrees from the teacher.

She has a bevy of not-so-good-looking girls who ideolise her. They wipe seats with their hankys before she sits on them and they hang on each and every word she says.
And sometimes, just sometimes, she is kind enough to brighten their day and make their existence worthwhile by giving them a half smile.

Aaaahh..the power of being beautiful ....???hmmm...I wonder!

There was this maths teacher I had..and she was one poor lost soul . She would enter the class , say something abstract that no one would understand.
and then pull out a black glove from her bag.
Yess a black glove with a red frilly lace all around it.
She would wear that and only then use the chalk to write on the blackboard.Her bun was hollow..really it was...as in you could see thru it...
She could never explain anything vaguely related to maths to any girl in the class...but she knew her stuff...so she had my respect.

There was another female who tried to teach us.She was very H.S. and could not tolerate the non AC class rooms that we had.So, in the break she would scoop her two daughters from their respective classes, sit in her car, switch on the ac and correct copies while her daughters ate their lunch.
Aapparently, she had cleared the I.A.S but then she met and fell in love with a surd and so she then left the ossumm job to teach us .
aaahhh...the power of love?
Anyways..she taught us G.K in class 11.There was tremendous drama that used to go on during her G.K lessons..we would write stuff like 'what I would like my friends to remember me as when I die' on pieces of paper and worse still, read them in front of the class.
And we were to get our GK note books each day.
Incase we forgot to get them we would have to write apology letters which would begin with
"repsected Mma'am,
I am deepely ashamed of my behaviour today as I ,at the age of 17 years forgot to get my GK notebook and hence commited the heinous crime any student would much rather die than be guilty of.I am so ashamed of myself that I am ready to give myself up at the altar of the supremest of sacrifices.My action which has had major international repurcussions, is something I shall regret all my life.PLease take my lungs , nose, ears, kidneys* etc but, please forgive me.I think I will die thinking about the sheer magnitude of the crime I am guilty of .
I beg for forgiveness from both you and Jesus.and shall never repeat this again.
Yours sinecerely,
XYZ

P.S you are an H.S goddess who cleared the I.A.S.
*P.S. you can also take my intestines, but please exonerate me of this crime.
P.S . you daughters are li'l angels.

"
or some crap of that kind
I forgot to get my notebook on two different occassions and hence had to write the crappy letter twice thereby wasting precious paper which could have put to much better use by using it to make paper airplanes.

On second thoughts I could have played naughts and crosses on that paper and then used it to make paper planes.
What tragic waste of paper
*sigh*