"BAN"al days

Another week of no college. This semester i keep finding at my disposal more time than i can squander guilt -free. I am camping at my airconditioned home yet again. And if that wasnt ironical enough, mum has placed a messenger ban on me. She had infact confiscated my netcom and only returned because i really had to download some pdf files for studying purpose. Infact even as i am typing these words my pdf file is journeying through a myriad of servers, networks, routers and similar crap into my blessed downloads folder. On saturday i again had to take a taxi from howrah to my coaching centre. Braving through the jam and heat wave i entered the building to apply my grey cells to analytical problems. We had a new bloke teaching there today- a banda from IIML. He mentioned his celebrated alma mater only as the class drew a close. Yet somehow only lucknow seemed to fit with his persona. If i were to guess as to what iim he might have been from i wud surely have said lucknow. This is the good thing about going to this coaching centres. Somehow looking at people who have already reached where you are dying to...somehow pumps you up. And the rest was taken care of by my hyperPreparing batchmate. So, by the time i got into that red waala mini bus i was quiet enthued about my feline challenge again. But the thirty minutes of bandel local had drained me out. The next morning i was totally not feeling like going to the centre. And i had some strong reasons too-

1. my whole body hurt, as if someone had thoroughly bashed me with a bat overnight

2. i knew that nobody else from my batch was coming

3. it was awfully hot outside

Still i got up. Primarily because of mum's nagging. As predicted i was the lone soul in the class and most of the sums were geometry. I wasnt that bad with the rest of the sums though. Next day was monday and i thought i wud finally get to go to college. Since fodoo was not going i decided to travel directly to bantala. The day was Akshay tritiya - its supposed to be a very asupicious day. It dint turn out to be one however. Fire at strand road, some kind of "michil" ad i was stuck in a jam for a century. When i finally decided to damn it and go home, suddenly the traffic cleared. Reached college- did a communications class and paid 800 bucks for exmination form. Tats it. All that pain for nothing. The return was even more traumatic. Those red waala buses get jam packed in the evening. And well...the heat and all totally knock out the chivalry among the men. So i stood , rather lurched forward and backwards and forward...as the bus inched through another jam of the century.I stood there willing the bus to move, mutterring..move, move, move and using all of my psychic abilities to keep the buses moving. Only this wasnt a movie. The alchemist funda doesnt work much on the city roads. To top it all the rickshaw guy was drunk, so i got down a little before my home scared out of my wits....and walked home. Now that i am writing it , it so resembles a "the day when everything went wrong " essay we used to have in school. Lol! And now another week of blissful bunking lies ahead of me. All's well that ends well.