Story Continues

Being the backbencher always has a bright side to it , and this fact is something that always bites hard into to the nerds. If you look at it , the nerds always envy the last bench, because they can answer a question(everything under the sun except the part taught in class) even when the brightest of all nerds fail to do so.
Everyone including the teacher knows that you are not here to study ,and it doesn’t make a difference to anyone whether u pass or fail.If u pass ,ure lucky , and ur failure is nothing new.The lady teachers rarely come to the back bench as the chances of a vulgar comment about their attire is always on the cards and they very well know that u have come to class only to find out how the chicks in college have turned up for the day. The girls in your class remain aloof to you as though ure from another planet and when u talk to them they wave away the smell of tobacco. But we were proud of what we were! We were hated by some, but we were loved by many. We were heroes ,mostly to ourselves to a number of innocent juniors and to a few girls who liked the bad guys and we basked in the limelight of the so called ‘notorious’ tag. And to be notorious in an institution like ours was not an easy task. Rules were made to harass students!We hated it and broke it in every possible way. It would be a lie to say that we weren’t scared .We were scared ! But we wouldn’t show it around because it would dull the bright brave image we had maintained. I was scared because I had my future to think about and a family to support , one wrong doing and I would be kicked out the college.But that didn’t stop me from smoking in the hostel late at night, ragging and boozing without giving a thought about the consequences that might follow.Of a hundred times of smoking in the hostel,we were caught or rather one of us were caught once, lucky for us the warden was a nice man and we scraped through. When I finished my college , I was more than happy as there were no papers to be cleared and I got myself a job. Even the nerds in my class only managed to do the same , the only point being that they got some percentage marks more than me and that mattered a lot , as much as a spaniel’s ear. But I had something that they didn’t have , a heart full of memories that was going to make me laugh with tears in my eyes. Sweet memories that will brim my heart with joy. I still cherish those moments and as I sit in my cubicle trying to make things work , I smile to myself thinking ‘hari , does dhimps always have to wear her sari like this?’ and unknowingly I hum ‘Poo pol poo pol en nenje koithaval … minnalay…… minnalay …’