Purple
I respect you. I admire you a lot more than you think I do. Mostly, I just love you. And, f, I don’t even know why.
You know who you are.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
You've Got Mail.
May 30, 2007
Dear Sir,
You might be surprised to receive this letter. Heck, you are surprised to receive this. From me, especially. Belonging to the First Year Batch.
I know you have more or less written us off for good. I totally understand that. Infact, I’d have been surprised if you hadn’t. Given the kind of people we are, and the size of our egos – albeit unjustified- it was only a matter of time before we drove you crazy. Of course, what I was surprised was at the extent to which we drove you over the edge. I didn’t think you’d stumble. Yes, I was shocked when you said you are going to give up teaching. Us. Or anyone. To be only fair, that is exactly why I am writing this to you.
Today, you asked us to have a perspective. I beseech you to heed your own words. You are a good teacher. We are bad students. Let’s face it now. For the most part, we are. And more importantly, you are HOT. Like, very. You musn’t be angry with us. It will break my heart. Well, almost. That’s an important perspective to have. As important as any other.
Please forgive us. We are sorry. Some of us are. Okay, I am and I don’t know about the others but I like you too much to care and I’m hoping there are others like me. I know you have only wanted us to do well and never meant to make us sink like stones. Look at how you’ve corrected the mid terms. Such generosity, such understanding. Sigh. Everything and anything you have done makes me hang my head in shame for all those nights spent in futile gossiping as against useful case readings.
If I could go back in time and change anything, it will all have to do with your class. I will sit in the first bench, smile at you on every ocassion and read every case, every article and everything else you'd assigned us. I mean this. In all sincerity. But, time once gone cannot be altered. I’m sorry. However much I wish to change it, I am powerless to do so. But, you will agree, it’s the thought that counts. And the thought here is genuine and heartfelt.
It pains me to have given you so much trouble. To have been such ungrateful fanged serpents. I tend to use metaphors when I’m genuinely sorry. I’m an idiot like that. But that doesn’t take anything away from the fact that I respect, admire and laud you. I wish you taught and will teach us every course we have. Of course, that would have landed you in NIMHANS, but I mean well.
You have been telling us how you are determined to pass us if we put in effort. That’s noble, you know? Not only are you hot, you’re also cool.
This isn’t a juvenile rant coming from a student who thinks her professor is beyond happening. No, this is not just that. It might sound like it, heck, it sounds a lot like it; but there is a lot more to this.
When Sujith Kumar P Dot used to teach us, and I used to look around class to see my classmates variably involved in sleeping, chatting, gtalking, orkutting and taking that poor poor man’s trip and so on; I never felt guilty. Not a tinge. But, when I look around when you’re discussing the cases and see some of us sleeping and most of us looking at you with psychotically blank faces and I think, What the f is wrong with us?
Where are we, as a class, going? What are we trying to prove? Or disprove? Maybe we have had a spate of bad teaching, and we have gotten used to dismissing teachers and courses with not so much as a glance; but that doesn’t excuse us from the fact that we are being extremely stupid. There. I said it.
We have been and are, for the most part, stupid. We don’t know what is good for us. We have, as a class, decided to disregard your reading lists and not pay attention in class. Believe me, I am not proud of it. It’s pathetic. And, to be honest to you and to ourselves, the past three months are quite beyond redemption. Like I said, we cannot go back and change it. And, even if we could, I doubt there would be many of us who would.
You might be wondering why I am writing this to you seeing as how I have reiterated, more than just once in this mail, that we have done wrong and stand too late to be corrected. There is a point to this. I always do things that have a point, you know.
Well, anyway, the point is – give us a chance. One more time. One last time. Teach us Consti Law II. Please do.
I promise to do better. I can’t speak for the others (some of them don’t even think you’re hot, can you imagine?!) I speak for myself. If you teach us our next course, I promise to devour it. Pursue it with such diligence and such earnestness that I shall make up for all the angst we caused you this trimester. But, if you don’t, I shall write off the Constitution of India forever.
This might sound juvenile and irrational and a host of other ridiculous things, but I couldn’t care less. Give us a chance. Once more. We, ok, no- I made a mistake and I am genuinely sorry. Don’t punish us for it. Don’t. I entreat you to forget what has past and look over to the next three months. I will sit in the first bench and smile. I’ll even read a case or two, maybe. Okay, I'm just kidding. I promise to read the cases. All of them. And, to never refer to you belittlingly in this blog. Ever.
Hope you consider this request favourably.
Thanking You,
Regards,
Yours sincerely,
Scarlett.
P.S: I hope the fact that I typed this out during Consti Law does not make that much of a difference to you.
I know you have more or less written us off for good. I totally understand that. Infact, I’d have been surprised if you hadn’t. Given the kind of people we are, and the size of our egos – albeit unjustified- it was only a matter of time before we drove you crazy. Of course, what I was surprised was at the extent to which we drove you over the edge. I didn’t think you’d stumble. Yes, I was shocked when you said you are going to give up teaching. Us. Or anyone. To be only fair, that is exactly why I am writing this to you.
Today, you asked us to have a perspective. I beseech you to heed your own words. You are a good teacher. We are bad students. Let’s face it now. For the most part, we are. And more importantly, you are HOT. Like, very. You musn’t be angry with us. It will break my heart. Well, almost. That’s an important perspective to have. As important as any other.
Please forgive us. We are sorry. Some of us are. Okay, I am and I don’t know about the others but I like you too much to care and I’m hoping there are others like me. I know you have only wanted us to do well and never meant to make us sink like stones. Look at how you’ve corrected the mid terms. Such generosity, such understanding. Sigh. Everything and anything you have done makes me hang my head in shame for all those nights spent in futile gossiping as against useful case readings.
If I could go back in time and change anything, it will all have to do with your class. I will sit in the first bench, smile at you on every ocassion and read every case, every article and everything else you'd assigned us. I mean this. In all sincerity. But, time once gone cannot be altered. I’m sorry. However much I wish to change it, I am powerless to do so. But, you will agree, it’s the thought that counts. And the thought here is genuine and heartfelt.
It pains me to have given you so much trouble. To have been such ungrateful fanged serpents. I tend to use metaphors when I’m genuinely sorry. I’m an idiot like that. But that doesn’t take anything away from the fact that I respect, admire and laud you. I wish you taught and will teach us every course we have. Of course, that would have landed you in NIMHANS, but I mean well.
You have been telling us how you are determined to pass us if we put in effort. That’s noble, you know? Not only are you hot, you’re also cool.
This isn’t a juvenile rant coming from a student who thinks her professor is beyond happening. No, this is not just that. It might sound like it, heck, it sounds a lot like it; but there is a lot more to this.
When Sujith Kumar P Dot used to teach us, and I used to look around class to see my classmates variably involved in sleeping, chatting, gtalking, orkutting and taking that poor poor man’s trip and so on; I never felt guilty. Not a tinge. But, when I look around when you’re discussing the cases and see some of us sleeping and most of us looking at you with psychotically blank faces and I think, What the f is wrong with us?
Where are we, as a class, going? What are we trying to prove? Or disprove? Maybe we have had a spate of bad teaching, and we have gotten used to dismissing teachers and courses with not so much as a glance; but that doesn’t excuse us from the fact that we are being extremely stupid. There. I said it.
We have been and are, for the most part, stupid. We don’t know what is good for us. We have, as a class, decided to disregard your reading lists and not pay attention in class. Believe me, I am not proud of it. It’s pathetic. And, to be honest to you and to ourselves, the past three months are quite beyond redemption. Like I said, we cannot go back and change it. And, even if we could, I doubt there would be many of us who would.
You might be wondering why I am writing this to you seeing as how I have reiterated, more than just once in this mail, that we have done wrong and stand too late to be corrected. There is a point to this. I always do things that have a point, you know.
Well, anyway, the point is – give us a chance. One more time. One last time. Teach us Consti Law II. Please do.
I promise to do better. I can’t speak for the others (some of them don’t even think you’re hot, can you imagine?!) I speak for myself. If you teach us our next course, I promise to devour it. Pursue it with such diligence and such earnestness that I shall make up for all the angst we caused you this trimester. But, if you don’t, I shall write off the Constitution of India forever.
This might sound juvenile and irrational and a host of other ridiculous things, but I couldn’t care less. Give us a chance. Once more. We, ok, no- I made a mistake and I am genuinely sorry. Don’t punish us for it. Don’t. I entreat you to forget what has past and look over to the next three months. I will sit in the first bench and smile. I’ll even read a case or two, maybe. Okay, I'm just kidding. I promise to read the cases. All of them. And, to never refer to you belittlingly in this blog. Ever.
Hope you consider this request favourably.
Thanking You,
Regards,
Yours sincerely,
Scarlett.
P.S: I hope the fact that I typed this out during Consti Law does not make that much of a difference to you.
Be Wary.
Some people will never cease to amaze me. Never. Ever.
What, in the world, do you say to a certain senior who attempts (and fails- quite miserably) to look menacingly at you and spits out "Watch it!"?
I just smile. Coyly.
Ah, I like private jokes!
We are in the papers. Really.
Who says NAGARBHAVI is obscure?
Don't forget to read the bit about The Great (Almost) Abduction.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
If you're feeling uncomfortable, please leave.
It seems like it was just yesterday that those goofy idiots called the second years were asking me my claim to fame. I hope my classmates intend to do a better job of making life that much more worse for the new entrees than our seniors did for us. Anybody who asks a junior to find his/her name out will be treated most deservingly in this blog.
Writer's block.
Actually, I'm just lazy. Besides, what am I to do? When was the last time something interesting happened in class, anyway?
My current state of mind.
Writer's block.
Actually, I'm just lazy. Besides, what am I to do? When was the last time something interesting happened in class, anyway?
My current state of mind.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Of Cats and Fights
Things in life (or Law School) can be divided into two categories. I think.
The memorable. And, the unforgettable.
The Fashion Show, for instance, was unforgettable. Like the hundred thousand other unforgettable memories in Law School. The kind you wish you could forget but can’t. The kind you wish had never happened. Strangely enough, I cannot seem to think of a single memorable incident in the past one year.
Anyway, today's ALAD.
V
Japhet was a man perverse
He made his points straight and terse
Partners, sleeping and enjoying beauty
Having offered to make them comfy
To every couple he was a damning curse.
Japhet was a man perverse
He made his points straight and terse
Partners, sleeping and enjoying beauty
Having offered to make them comfy
To every couple he was a damning curse.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Fashion Show - Ha Ha Ha.
Tis a big day today.
Grape Throwing.
After nineteen years of unhindered effort and constant defeat, I mean to pursue those grapes till victory with a vigour never seen before. Today will be the day. Wish me the best.
Anyway, here goes with today's ALAD.IV
Sudhir – an oxonian – is a major stud
Though, agreed, he looks like a dud
But he set us a paper,
That shred us like a razor
And now we chew his words like cud.
Though, agreed, he looks like a dud
But he set us a paper,
That shred us like a razor
And now we chew his words like cud.
Question: Can I submit these for the creative writing event?
Monday, May 14, 2007
Laissez Faire
I am in a very very bad mood. Just the kind of mood to put up something like this. I might change my mind and take it off. Heck, my blog.III
Rowdy Rohit was a horny man
The stick insect made him stiff as a can
They made out in class
Free show with no pass
Alas, SDGM had to announce a ban.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
When Ends Begin.
The limerick was never my kind of poetry. Well, anyway, here goes.
A-Limerick-A-Day – an auspicious beginning with an auspicious personage.
I
There was a lady called Lizzy,
And she was such a prissy,
She thought she taught with élan,
As did her boy Eshan
While the others wished they were both history.
II
Lizzy liked to teach her class,
Like they were water and she the glass
She said her subject was subjective
And claimed to be objective
Still treated all our ideas as sass.
There was a lady called Lizzy,
And she was such a prissy,
She thought she taught with élan,
As did her boy Eshan
While the others wished they were both history.
II
Lizzy liked to teach her class,
Like they were water and she the glass
She said her subject was subjective
And claimed to be objective
Still treated all our ideas as sass.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Time is Bunk.
Monday, May 07, 2007
The louder you scream, the greater is your truth.
So there is, in class, this group called the RSG which, in my humble opinion, should expand as Really Stupid Group; comprising of certain enterprising gentlemen (and a single woman, as she proudly claims) who, on account of the extreme levels of joblessness that they revel in, resort to the most ridiculous forms of amusement. Some of these include originating and spreading the most improbable rumours, awarding ugly blackened 5 rupee coins and inducting unlikely members into their inner circle (for reasons like wearing polka dotted underwear or some such) and of course, their most popular stunt yet - bringing the class together at the barbed wire on the pretext of the Manly Malalyalee’s birthday. (unfailingly, too, some people always turn up for this midnight spectacle to partake of the cake – most times, I have serious doubts regarding whether they even know who’s birthday it is)
That’s another concept I’ve not gotten the hang of, yet. The Birthday at the Barbed Wire concept. I seem to recollect how sometime in the first trimester someone had come up with the blindingly bright idea about how we must tackle the issue of barbed wire birthdays in a fairly organized manner, and how it is the exclusive responsibility of the concerned roomies of the birthday boy or girl to arrange for the cake and other ancilliaries. (yes, I think, my classmates’ bright ideas will never cease to amaze me) If I remember right, even a list was passed around to that effect with names and birthdays or something equally stupid. I can’t stop laughing. I mean, can you even imagine antickpix getting a birthday cake for his roomies?
Along similar lines, I never got the hang of birthday bumps in the form that they exist here in Law School. As I see it, I ought to be happy on my birthday; and with that kind of mistreatment meted out to my back – trust me , I will not be happy. And, where did that silly song called May George Jain kiss you originate from, anyway? And, are we going to sing it, like, forever? Think about it. Four years from now, when we’ll be fifth years (well, hopefully) we’ll be standing at the barbed wire straining our chords about George Jain kissing somebody. Really?
That reminds me. Them. The new first years. Our juniors-to-be. Did you see them? I did. And, man! What a truly unruly lot. There was one lady walking around with a black poodle with a red ribbon. So, what was that? The poodles her lucky charm or something? I heard The Snake came out of the exam hall 20 minutes before its conclusion, and was- amidst great clamour and cheer- interviewed by the mediafolks. And, this other kid got absolutely freaked on hearing talk about not completing the essay after they were out giving the exam-of-their-life. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is – we must be hard up for some fun and frolic of our own(yes yes, him, indeed) in our lives; if we have to go down to scaring little twits come down to write the exam that they SO should not have written.
Meanwhile, my roomies have had precious little to talk about since The Great (Almost) Abduction. All are on the alert, and DisCo (I still haven’t made peace with them being called that) has put up notices in all the hostels asking us to move to NagARBHAVI (yes, that’s for you, kid) in groups and preferably, not after dusk. Things have gotten so bad that the last I heard all girls were being escorted by strong guys in and out of the area; and Sumo Wrestler was rendering her protection services to He Who Needs A Hair Cut. As far as I can see, it’ll be the abductors who’ll need protection from her. Jokes apart, all women kindly read this.
That’s another concept I’ve not gotten the hang of, yet. The Birthday at the Barbed Wire concept. I seem to recollect how sometime in the first trimester someone had come up with the blindingly bright idea about how we must tackle the issue of barbed wire birthdays in a fairly organized manner, and how it is the exclusive responsibility of the concerned roomies of the birthday boy or girl to arrange for the cake and other ancilliaries. (yes, I think, my classmates’ bright ideas will never cease to amaze me) If I remember right, even a list was passed around to that effect with names and birthdays or something equally stupid. I can’t stop laughing. I mean, can you even imagine antickpix getting a birthday cake for his roomies?
Along similar lines, I never got the hang of birthday bumps in the form that they exist here in Law School. As I see it, I ought to be happy on my birthday; and with that kind of mistreatment meted out to my back – trust me , I will not be happy. And, where did that silly song called May George Jain kiss you originate from, anyway? And, are we going to sing it, like, forever? Think about it. Four years from now, when we’ll be fifth years (well, hopefully) we’ll be standing at the barbed wire straining our chords about George Jain kissing somebody. Really?
That reminds me. Them. The new first years. Our juniors-to-be. Did you see them? I did. And, man! What a truly unruly lot. There was one lady walking around with a black poodle with a red ribbon. So, what was that? The poodles her lucky charm or something? I heard The Snake came out of the exam hall 20 minutes before its conclusion, and was- amidst great clamour and cheer- interviewed by the mediafolks. And, this other kid got absolutely freaked on hearing talk about not completing the essay after they were out giving the exam-of-their-life. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is – we must be hard up for some fun and frolic of our own(yes yes, him, indeed) in our lives; if we have to go down to scaring little twits come down to write the exam that they SO should not have written.
Meanwhile, my roomies have had precious little to talk about since The Great (Almost) Abduction. All are on the alert, and DisCo (I still haven’t made peace with them being called that) has put up notices in all the hostels asking us to move to NagARBHAVI (yes, that’s for you, kid) in groups and preferably, not after dusk. Things have gotten so bad that the last I heard all girls were being escorted by strong guys in and out of the area; and Sumo Wrestler was rendering her protection services to He Who Needs A Hair Cut. As far as I can see, it’ll be the abductors who’ll need protection from her. Jokes apart, all women kindly read this.
Life in this place is bad as it is, without having to have such things happen to us.
Take care, and be safe.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Here, there, and Everywhere.
What is with running into law schoolites everywhere?
Like, everywhere.
We are, what? Four hundred odd people, yes?
Isn’t it just frustrating that you can’t spend a weekend in town without running into one of these four hundred in a 6, 520, 000 strong city?
That reminds me. Were you one of those who set out to frighten the already frightened prospective juniors who swarmed the place today?
Cus there were a LOT of jobless folks who were upto that.
Oh, and I am starting A-Limerick-A-Day for the classmates I love (and don't). No, in fact, I just might extend it to the whole of law school. Watch this space.
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