Life At School(s)

Hello again.Now that you have an idea of how chaotic my life can be, I shall take you on an odyssey across my childhood, which was weird, to say the very least.Now there are a couple of problems to overcome while i narrate my story, some of which are :

• I have a terrible memory.
• I have a terrible memory.
• I might have said this already, but I have a terrible memory.

KINDERGARTEN:

Now I have no accurate memory of what I used to do in kindergarten.I remember being the topper, and also, voted Sexiest Tiny Totaler.It's a pity I can no longer contest for that title.Anyway, I then resided in Vikaspuri, and did what all kids that age do- hang around with my girlfriends. They happened to be very interested in my archaeological work; they often joined me in excavating worms from the middle of the park.For some reason, anyone passing by would shoo us away and tell us to stop damaging the grass.
It was such an easy world- I could date two girls-simultaneously.... and the only reaction i would get from anyone who saw me at it would be laughter. But, like all good things, it wasn't meant to be.....

My First Break-Up:
It was, alas, a double whammy.One fateful afternoon, she called me over to dig, and i obliged, presuming she found some jurassic era fossils.Boy, was i disappointed.For one thing, her new friend was already there.Secondly, they were finished digging and now playing with some hoops and rings.They said they made a new nickname for me.My spirits rose.But suddenly they raced away on their Harley Davidson tricycle.When they were 30 feet away, they said it out loud:



<drumroll>



TATTI (For non- Indians : This means SHIT )

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I was aghast.Heartbroken.My immediate response was, "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"<loud sobs>
Getting over them was hard.Hence started my alcoholism.

KINDERGARTEN CONTINUED

Did I mention I have a terrible memory?Perhaps not......Anyway, I have another flash of a childhood memory.My parents had taken me to a hit movie screening. Starring one of my favourites, Aamir Khan and the lovely Urmila Ma-tond-(kam)-kar, it was titled Rangeela. Of course, being the born pervert that I am, I chose to call it Nangi La.I was very enthusiastically watching when aamir's character was shown in a theatre, placing his feet on the headrest of the unfortunate guy in front.Obviously, it did not take even a fraction of a second for me to follow suit.Unfortunately, my feet did not even reach the back rest.That's when I lost it and gave mommy dearest a Very Hard Time.Criss crossing between seats and often going under them, the second movie drew more attention than the one on the screen, and I pulled off stunts that would put James Bond to shame.But then again, nobody twists James Bond's ears and slaps his bottom raw red for misbehaving.
Since that day, mom has been extremely wary of taking me for a movie in a theatre.
On the bright side, i won a fancy dress competition for coming dressed as 'Munna' i.e. Aamir's character in that movie.Next time I remember going to the theatre was for Titanic.Wow.Good call,mom.A tragedy, it was.
Especially the wolf whistling while I wondered why 3 stomachs complete with 3 bellybuttons were getting so much attention.


Note: Above paragraph may lead one to think that I am mentally unstable.I neither affirm nor deny it.


There was once a time when i was an innocent little piece of shit.Still in kindergarten, that phase ended with the following event.


THE STOREROOM HEIST


It was a boring summer afternoon.The wind lightly played on the five time winner of the Sexiest Tiny Totaler award. He looked extremely handsome in his semi white uniform stained with oil and mud.The girls (and a few homos) letched unabashedly, and they boy quite enjoyed the attention(except from said homos), the Shah Rukh of the Kindergarten wing.It was the last day of summer, before the holidays.School was about to end in an hour.The boy went for a pee-pee.The bathroom was dark, it was always dark, for we were afraid of being seen, engaging in our notorious planning of the most dastardly deeds.The boy was unforunately on the receiving end of the prank this time.as soon as he entered the cubicle, two guys locked the door from behind and ran away, cackling sadistically.While he gently weeped. He quickly finished the annoying business of pee-pee and banged on the door.No response.
It was awesome.The ambience could not have gotten any better.The boy quit his attempts, and sat on the coveted throne.He wondered at the genius who thought of providing ventilation in the throne.Surely, sometimes a posterior should be getting some breeze. He looked at his watch. Half an hour left. Not that he minded being locked in such a smelly cubicle, but he had to say goodbye to his friends, hence he resumed his banging on the door.A peon was fortunately nearby, and let him out. Thanking the peon, the boy rushed back to class, and found out that two boys were missing from class for over an hour. THE BASTARDS.
He sneaked out, peeping into every room on the floor.He could not locate the boys. Something was fishy.
He finally came to the last room, where he saw the back door swinging, and realised who had just knocked his knee into it. he tore after them bastards, but they beat him to the class; he didn't even see them enter it.
Since he couldn't prove anything, he went back to the room, which was known as the storeroom.
All the goodies were stored there. If he could just find out what they stole, and catch them in posession of it, his revenge would be complete....
Entering the storeroom, he opened the shelves in a great hurry, trying to see what was missing.
"Hey, you! What are you doing, opening the shelves without permission??"
The boy turned around in shock, to find the class teacher at the door, looking scandalised.Beside her were the two boys.
"I never expected this of you!You're trying to steal something?"
The boy tried to stammer an explanation...to which obviously the teacher didn't listen..
The poor boy was scolded severely by several teachers for a theft he did not commit.
You're probably wondering what was stolen - a mini monopoly box.
You're also probably wondering why I wrote this whole piece in third person, instead of the usual first person narrative style - I wasn't that boy.
I was the bastard who locked him in.
Felt good.
(He'd bullied me and my friend the day before)
Revenge truly is sweet.
I never took the box home.We threw it out of the bus in a garbage dump.
We're born Professionals.....