Sie Eigentlich Suchte.
So in honour of a dear friend (who is an ardent nature lover and the only law schoolite who knows why God loves little girls) who has assured me that her personal survey has revealed that many anonymous-es are of the opinion that this blog gets bitchy and bitchier everyday; and that, once upon a wonderful time, it used to be nice. She also advised me to be nice. (on the blog)
In full sincerity, I am going to make more than a full hearted attempt.
Nice things, in law school, are in plenty. If only you would go look for them. After all, these are the stuff memories are made of. They say at then end of five years in Papillon, all you take back with you is the sound of the scurrying of rats at night. At the end of five years in Law School, I shall take back so many different wonderful memories of chilling in Nags, chilling in Nags and of course, chilling in Nags. That’s what we do, yes, and that’s what we shall take back.
Nags, of course, is more a part of our lives than Nandi the Mutt can ever hope to be. In the times of yore, Nags used to be the exclusive domain of an elite few. If you were a Nags loyalite, you had your regular spots, you owed them at least fifty bucks and they knew you by name.
But, now, alas – the charm is no more. For we now have the besmirch on the very spirit of Nags, an atrocious apparition that calls itself Chhota Nags. Of course, there are those among us that insist on calling it Abhishek (because, if you don’t know already, the one at the real Nags is called Aishwarya). Yes, I took me a while to get that joke too. Anyway, we shall now refer to this phenomenon as Chetta’s (an immensely funny word when said by Choms). Oh yes, how could I forget, there are those amongst us – the ones that read fairy tales to bed that call that place Under The Tree. Yes, they actually do. Just as you did just now, I gasped and choked for air when I heard this. The last I heard, they are also composing a parody to the song of the same name that which they may sing every time they grown a little bit more fatter.
A recently concluded study has shown that the number of courting couples has seen a dramatic nosedive since the opening of Chhota Nags as women are getting fatter and fatter. Other reports include a complete paradigm shift in the way Barbed Wire Birthdays used to be conducted, with all the aplomb and fanfare, with the Chocolate Mousse Cake that you have eaten a gazillion times but will eat one more time carefully placed on the watchman’s rickety chair, the knife to cut the cake that nobody remembers to bring, the greedy freak who turns up for every b’day not knowing whose it is and the frantic telephone calls when enough people have not turned up for the grand ceremony. The party now assembles in front of Chhota Nags/Abhishek/Chheta’s and all that. Sigh, such times.
See now, I want to write nice things; I am just not able to. It’s not a question of desire, but mere disability. When Madhav Menon gave us that moving speech in class, I was horribly inspired for exactly 5 minutes. Then, I got drenched in the rain and went to sleep in the room. That’s the problem here, see, with nice-ness. Nice things put you to sleep.
Actually, some of them don’t. Like German classes. German classes are good, if you know I mean. You must all attend German classes. Even if you don’t want to learn German. Who wants to learn German, anyway? But you must go for German classes. Really. Since we’re on that, I think Canadian classes couldn’t be all that nice, but then again, it really is a matter of perspective, I think.
Anyway, now you know why the title is in German. :)
In full sincerity, I am going to make more than a full hearted attempt.
Nice things, in law school, are in plenty. If only you would go look for them. After all, these are the stuff memories are made of. They say at then end of five years in Papillon, all you take back with you is the sound of the scurrying of rats at night. At the end of five years in Law School, I shall take back so many different wonderful memories of chilling in Nags, chilling in Nags and of course, chilling in Nags. That’s what we do, yes, and that’s what we shall take back.
Nags, of course, is more a part of our lives than Nandi the Mutt can ever hope to be. In the times of yore, Nags used to be the exclusive domain of an elite few. If you were a Nags loyalite, you had your regular spots, you owed them at least fifty bucks and they knew you by name.
But, now, alas – the charm is no more. For we now have the besmirch on the very spirit of Nags, an atrocious apparition that calls itself Chhota Nags. Of course, there are those among us that insist on calling it Abhishek (because, if you don’t know already, the one at the real Nags is called Aishwarya). Yes, I took me a while to get that joke too. Anyway, we shall now refer to this phenomenon as Chetta’s (an immensely funny word when said by Choms). Oh yes, how could I forget, there are those amongst us – the ones that read fairy tales to bed that call that place Under The Tree. Yes, they actually do. Just as you did just now, I gasped and choked for air when I heard this. The last I heard, they are also composing a parody to the song of the same name that which they may sing every time they grown a little bit more fatter.
A recently concluded study has shown that the number of courting couples has seen a dramatic nosedive since the opening of Chhota Nags as women are getting fatter and fatter. Other reports include a complete paradigm shift in the way Barbed Wire Birthdays used to be conducted, with all the aplomb and fanfare, with the Chocolate Mousse Cake that you have eaten a gazillion times but will eat one more time carefully placed on the watchman’s rickety chair, the knife to cut the cake that nobody remembers to bring, the greedy freak who turns up for every b’day not knowing whose it is and the frantic telephone calls when enough people have not turned up for the grand ceremony. The party now assembles in front of Chhota Nags/Abhishek/Chheta’s and all that. Sigh, such times.
See now, I want to write nice things; I am just not able to. It’s not a question of desire, but mere disability. When Madhav Menon gave us that moving speech in class, I was horribly inspired for exactly 5 minutes. Then, I got drenched in the rain and went to sleep in the room. That’s the problem here, see, with nice-ness. Nice things put you to sleep.
Actually, some of them don’t. Like German classes. German classes are good, if you know I mean. You must all attend German classes. Even if you don’t want to learn German. Who wants to learn German, anyway? But you must go for German classes. Really. Since we’re on that, I think Canadian classes couldn’t be all that nice, but then again, it really is a matter of perspective, I think.
Anyway, now you know why the title is in German. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment