Phew!! Ahoy Amigos..back after a long time(one and half month to be precise)..partly due to assignments nd mostly due to my laziness.Sitting quietly in the ganapathy lab now(its almost 12:30 am) when i think of the last month that whizzd past in front of me all i can think of is the freshers's party and Bipasha Basu..now don't get me wrong ..i just came back after watcng Bachhna e Haseeno ;) . I had my Accounts mid term exam today and thanks to highly efficient invigilation i could'nt copy.. and in short i screwed it up.I turned up late in the exam center (i takes some time to have the 'HIGHLY' delicious canteen food) .And as i warm gesture to my arrival ..i was offered the seat at the first bench much to my apathy. The questions paper looked more like Hibru to me than nythg else and my long and futile efforts of askng my fellow batchmates was put to rest by the person guarding.Seeing my desperation to copy the invigilator turned all his attention to me as if i was the only person sitting in the room.But this did not put his mind to peace for a long time coz soon he told me to change my seat and put me in the most desolate part of the room :( !!!@@### !!!.And then and there was my destiny written Life in Chennai is seems to be on roll.This place has many posh malls and nice beaches.. and of course the nice and greedy auto-walas .Today i saw a traffic cop who had big moustaches and looked more like somebody from a b-grade horror movie than a traffic cop.AM sure he would have made more money acting in some lousy movies than getting baked in the roads of chennai giving directions to the clueless traffic.Not knowing Tamil is defn a disadvantage in chennai but so far i have managed good wid my 'tuta-futa' linguistic symbols..and am sure thngs would get better eventually....signing off for nw..will be back for more(very soon)........
Today had the opportunity/bad luck to sit in the first row for the accounts class. It was a great experience sitting in the VIP row. JLo kept on looking at me as if I had the answers for everything while I even didn't have the book itself. Had to borrow the book from Binit and made a lot of scribbles as ordered by JLo. Sitting at the first Jlo's lullably were starting to take a slight effect upon me. So after the successful completion first hour I switched back to my regular last row to mingle with the sleep deprived people. Second hour geared up and my fellow row mates began their quests in the dreams of which i took quite a few pictures.
Vaibhav was absorbed in the ET and BL whereas Praveen was trying to sleep with eyes open.
people getting charmed and sleepy by JLo's speech
Other side of the last benchers
physically present , mentally absent
And now the hero of our class . . . .
soja soja mere munna jojo jojo mera naam JLo......
Every time when a student enters into her/his first year in whichever course, there is always one fixed dish in her/his menu. That is the freshly fresher’s party. But for the batch 9 of IFMR this was served late and cold. After a accelerating first month of regular MBA workload the batch9 finally got it fresher’s party invite scheduled on 4th August 08. Like they were separated in groups for the subjects, here also they found a divide but interestingly on the basis of ethnicity. A ‘selective and (un)biased’ random grouping was made and people were put in so called groups of Mallus, Punjabis, Haryanvis, Assamees, Tamillas, Gujjus, Marathas, Biharis, Bengalis and Rajasthanis. The U.P. waales, Kannadigas, Kashmiris, Oriyans and Andhrawalas became angry as there was no quota for them and there was uproar in the sansad regarding this allocation of machos and babes to the various states.
Without bothering these outside problems the batch9 people started thinking on a macro level and were excited, trying to find the solution to the following major critical questions which were affecting their micro heart
To whom shall I dedicate what song? ( by the lovebug affected ones)
With how much make-up should I paint myself? (by the beauty conscious ones)
What will be menu for the dinner? (by the gastronomical ones)
The d-day arrived with quite a few people having found answers to the above questions and lots having multiple choices for the questions. Classes went on like a bee-buzzing for a lot (except the fans of PKV). Few students started their preparation before the lunch itself, taking the risk of bunking OB classes expecting high returns in the evening (or in the forthcoming encounter with the churning Sherry). The afternoon computer 2 hours of computer works came with a debt waiver ½ hour (rather than the promised 1 hour) for the make-up-ically downtrodden people. Having just 1 hour for the start of the party the seniors and the less beautiful genders of the batch 9 got ready and were beginning to arrive at the venue. Having forgotten as how to read time or unable to spot their watches and clocks or getting stranded in the city the darlings of the batch9 arrived about 1 hour late to the venue. They were escorted to the party hall with due respect by the elders. It was like a state function and the babus being waiting impatiently for a lately arriving political guest not minding the presence of the recipients or audience.
After the arrival of the ‘busyness’ models the party kick started with the ethnics ramp walking and being interviewed. People spoke out their well practiced dialogues in their respective languages and ramp-walked gracefully1. There was a Gujju Goyal and his koyal in their traditional dresses dancing all around. The Haryanvis were bit ruff and tuff with their dandas and dr.goondas. Marathi manoos were too good with a changla mulgi. Luckily they were in a small numbers, or else the biharis and the tamilians would have been attacked. The mallus were too ooaabvious with theirs oas and their plain (g)old dresses. And there was a mallu born, american brought up Punjabi with the mallus. The tamilians girls were homely and the guys like eM.eS.Dee rascals. This time the Biharis babus weren’t bhikaris, but rather in a full-flow of their fhasht, afficiyal and melliphuous bihari. The assamees didn’t show up their dance, the Bengalis missed to do the ‘korbo lorbo jetbo re’ song and the Punjabis weren’t that body-shoddy.
In between the ramp(age) walk there were few known dedications being exposed off and the respective heroes and heroines danced to the romantic tunes (not to mention a sentimental bhai-behen song). A lot of dedications weren’t unearthed due to the time constraint (hope the ‘senior’ spokesperson releases the list through mail).
After the dedications there were around 1+1+1=3 events conducted showcasing the creativity of the elders2. Then the Mr.Freshers and Ms.Freshers were announced with the honours going to the Bihari babu and the Marathi Mulgi respectively. Dinner was announced and the eaters filled up their stomach while the beauty conscious ones changed gear from ethnic to western. The party floor breaked open with good music and the odourless smoke spreading around. Some danced gracefully, some normally and some carefully as to protect their legs being stamped upon3. Music rocked for two hours and all the permutations and combinations of grouping, energy of the dancers were exhausted. Then a bakra was brought to the center and he was anointed with cake. After finishing the remaining cake the party broke up and the people left with memories of the fresher’s party being remembered as a delicious, memorable and sweet ice cream served late and cold.
1 – except the author who was spitting all over the place.
2 – The author punctured his butt to win a chocolate in one of the events.
3 – Though being careful the author eventually got stamped upon many times.
Proactive defense statement: The author wrote this post around the time when he should have slept. So there may be quite a few mis-statements about the fairer sex or about the elders or about the ethnic groups due to inconsistent brain performance at the time of writing. Hence please ignore the mistakes which the author has made.
