GS' Beats

"Next". The new English teacher said. She was known to be a very strict one with the shortest fuse for indiscipline. Ram Kumar a.k.a. RK stood up for his turn. "Kurmaa!", somebody yelled. Ram Kumar turned his head to know who was its source. His face was red. But the damage had already been done. Entire class was in giggles. Even the teacher couldn't help but smile. "Keep quite" was all she managed to say. "Come on RK. So what is your chosen topic?" It was the elocution competition, and the participants had to choose their own topic for a change. Generally, teachers used to select the topics and restrict the choice to three - "Television - Boon or Bane", "India of My Dreams", and "Father of the Nation". But this time around, this new teacher, had different plans. "Television - Boon or Bane? madame". Kurmaa muttered, and at the same time there were sounds of palms hitting foreheads. "Are you asking ...

Crazy Numbers! Venkat was the mother of all pickles, and we are not speaking about eateries. People of Tamil Nadu will understand what that means. No body is sure as to since when he was a pickle. Whether he became one or he was born one. He had the uncanny ability of making even the most refined dull heads and morons crack a joke on him to everybody's delight. Strange ability. Unmatched. Unsurpassed. He was a friend of every one. (Everybody had a right to feel intelligent and jovial, right?) Even those whom he had never met or talked to. One look at him, you will never forget him. Even if you are the the Ghajini (Remember Sammy Jankins?) type. He is the cure for Antigorade Amnesia (Short Term Memory Loss). Once during the college competition for solo song, he sang the Vande Mataram and National Anthem. Except the title of the song, he got almost everything wrong. Pronounciation, words, and what not. What he got right was a few more friends and Ghajini got cured. He also had a ne...

“Praveen” “Ma’am” “Three out of Twenty Five, tujhe sharm nahin aathi ? You are failing for the fourth straight time. You are not in class V or VI, you are at the turning point of your life. You are in class X … … …” The Hindi Teacher went on and on and on and on and on. Praveen kept on looking at the floor, as our Hindi Teacher continued. “Look at me!” She screamed. “Lift your head and look at her. She will slaughter you if you don’t.” I muttered. “Life moves on, Sai. Failure cannot be end of life.” That was Praveen, the philosopher, to me. “Looking into the floor will not help you pass the exams.” There she goes! “Looking at your face also didn’t help me madame.” Without raising his head he muttered, heard only by me and Sam sitting in front of us. We laughed out loud. Phoosh flew the test note on Praveen’s face. We went mute. Our Hindi teacher went berserk. She was fuming. That was the first time when he was manhandled by any teacher for failing in the exams. What he lost in marks, h...