An Optimistic View Into The Life Of An Eleventh Grader...

A/N : This article does not depict the real life of an 11Th grader. Any resemblance to real characters is purely co-incidental….

 

6.00 a.m.: I am in a field of pretty poppies, dancing dahlias, murmuring marigolds, singing sunflowers. The birds are closing in around me singing their personal favourites.From somewhere along the distance a stupid scary crow starts pecking on my head trying to build a crater. Reality comes crashing in. *thud*

I try to teleport back into the dream world. Then seeing my mother’s face, I decide……otherwise…

6.15 a.m.: I fall asleep while brushing my teeth. A mistake.

6.30 a.m.: I realize I haven’t done my English homework. I then realize I don’t have an English notebook, so it doesn’t matter anyway. The momentary shock subsides.

7.00 a.m.: Mom kicks me out of the house and the fact that she was a great footballer in her times doesn’t really help.

7.15 a.m.: Swaying from end to end in the school bus where apparently the saying “Ladies first” doesn’t hold true.

7.30 a.m.: Still swaying……

8.00 a.m.: A reluctant me is thrown into the school main corridor by a plethora of toddlers and their whatnot.

8.15 a.m.: Just fifteen minutes down the line and my Bio teacher was already losing us. She desperately tries to hold fort.

9.00 a.m.: She has given up hope. (Thank god for that, any longer and she would’ve gone into depression)

9.30 a.m.: I walk into the chemistry lab for the practical exam looking lethargic, fatigued and twice as old.

10.30 a.m.: I walk out of the lab showing symptoms of Spondilitis because of craning my neck to exchange glances at my neighbour’s paper.

12.00 a.m.:  Our math teacher gives out our answer sheets.

12.05 p.m.: The world comes to an end….

12.10 p.m.: I am happy to get marks in double digits and that’s where the joy ends. My answer sheet is spotlessly clean and correct answers – a rare sight like a lone tiger in the periyar (a tiger reserve in Kerala in India where tiger's are impossible to spot). An ignorant classmate asks me my marks……

12.15 p.m.: ratattattatat….I walk out of the class with a shotgun…everybody’s dead.

1.30 p.m.: I tell my friends that I intend to become a surgeon. For some reason, they seemed worried.

2.00 p.m.: An annoying guy in the bus tells me he scored a cent in math. I resist the urge to send him flying to the hospital.

2.30 p.m.: I drag myself home…...

3.00 p.m.: After a feast, I muster the courage to tell my mom the math marks.

3.01 p.m.: Ah! She fainted….

3.02 p.m.: Crap! She’s back with a broomstick.

3.10 p.m.: Mom starts nagging. She loses me after five seconds.

4.00 p.m.: Mom is nagging…..

6.00 p.m.: Mom is still nagging…..My ears have withered and fallen off somewhere…..

7.00 p.m.: mom is still….yeah

8.00 p.m.: Ah! Her jaw has been dislocated. She decides to tuck in for the night.

8.45 p.m.: Dad carries on the baton with a melodramatic story of a not so great man becoming a great man by doing great things. I develop a sudden interest on the lizard crawling along the wall…..

9.00 p.m.: I try a self-introspection. Why didn’t I fare well? Cause I didn’t study. Why didn’t I study? Cause I was baby-sitting my neighbour’s kid. Who are these inconsiderate neighbours? The mother is a military officer and the father is a trained martial artist……*gulp*

9.15 p.m.: Introspection over…maybe ‘doctor’ was a bit misconceiving. I realize I must go for something more subtle.

9.30 p.m.: Before falling asleep, I note down in my daily-planner

‘Ask Dinesh, the watchman his monthly salary’…..

Ending on a positive note, I guess next year will be more encouraging…..or so I hope…