► FERVID RHAPSODY

They say your actions depend on your mood (don't look around. It’s just me). Totally true if you ask me. And school is one place where your moods change like David Beckham's hairdo (that means, 'often'). Sometimes you feel like testing the acoustics of the classroom by just screeching out, and sometimes you feel like buying some butter bun from the canteen and giving the blackboard an oil massage (so that the school blames it on the chalk supplying firm), or doing a Stress Level Elimination Exercise Plan (is it my problem that they call it 'SLEEP'?).Sometimes you may even feel like doing really out-of-the-ordinary things like listening to what the teacher says. Once or twice, some really weird ideas may occur to you, describing which is beyond the scope(and censorship agreement) of this blog. But the best way to keep yourself entertained in the 'drab and boring'(with no reference to anybody) classroom, is by getting out of it!

The teachers and the school authorities call it 'bunk', and we call it... what do we call it? Never mind! Fuck the cliché! (even the cliché!).

Bunking is by far, and obviously, THE best way to evade the anguish and agony that you (your mood) face, when you sit like that, staring into the obscure (sometimes obscene) picture that the blackboard paints for you, while the preceptor's views on Romanticism, Quadratic equations and disposable diapers, proves to be a lullaby, that which, instead of getting you to S.L.E.E.P, transports you into deep, and hidden hotspots within your multi-dimensional imagination.

In eighth, I still remember (like I’m a hundred years old), there was this gang, who would go missing (completely out of the radar) on all library periods. No prizes for guessing the gang members! (You wouldn’t have guessed it anyway. Pointless.) Aaron, Neehar, and I (the only ones with no nicknames), K.C (rainforest), Mammu, and Gundu were the usual ones in the gang. (more and more people took to the art later on)Bunking, then was all about staying out of sight (whoever's that might be). Slipping out from the library was cakewalk. But after that, it was lot of fun. I remember, we used to pull our pants up, to camouflage ourselves among the hundreds of little kids (imagine an eighth grader saying 'Kid!') who ran around (pointlessness again) the vast football ground. So, week in week out, every library period, we played, played and played (and played). Until the library period was shifted to some other hour (Damn!). We couldn't bunk any more. The grounds would all be empty at this hour, and the last thing we wanted was to buy a thousand eyeballs by walking the empty grounds, pointlessly. We had just one option in front of us. And stopping was the last thing we would've ever done (like you didn't guess that. Yeah right.). So we shifted to the college living room, and hell, it was (I use past tense, because times have changed. There are new characters in the frame now.) one cool quad for some dirty street football. The living room, is THE place for desperate bunkers because it is the least populated (where white and black silhouettes are least abound) place in the campus (if you don't count the forests), and also because it has a lot of exits. If someone does catch you (tries to catch you) you can always escape in four different directions, leaving the 'someone' confused (Such an incident actually happened!).

So, we played played and played(and played) and I take the utmost credit in saying that we were never caught, no not even once. Just one or two close calls, but never caught, the whole year.

But, that was then. You can't expect to do that now, unless if you're ready to get banned from all inter-school fests (with deepest sympathy to Keshav, who had his own ways to get banned!).

So, if you're intensely (I N T E N S E L Y) desperate and can’t hang on for even forty minutes (which unfortunately is also 2400 seconds), here is something that might help you. Here are ten creative ways to take a break from the devouring piles of crap the preceptor expects you to swallow:

• Walk up to the teacher, sneeze three times, and say you forgot to wear the mask, the doc advised you to wear. And then walk out.

• Steal the chalk boxes from the office, just before the class (anticipate it) and when the teacher walks in, volunteer to get the chalks for her. If you're caught, "I was looking for limestones. They didn't have chalks in the office!"

• Drop a book out of the window and say you dropped it. (Duh!) You can get a few minutes off on this one.

• Cry 'BOMB! BOMB!' and run out. You'll have loads of company.

• If you don't mind denting your reputation, try this: Paint a football on the board (ignoring the teacher's gaze) and run out of the classroom singing "Here we go, ale, ale, ale!!"

• "Snake!" ("I thought I saw a snake. It might have crawled out through the window")

• Or better, bring a snake to school. Let it out during class. Then you'll have the entire classroom to yourself. And the snake.

• Just run out of the classroom with one hand on your butt. No one will stop you. NO ONE.

• Kill someone. Then you'll have eighteen years to think of better ways of bunking school.

• Jump out of the window. You don't have to bunk to school again.

Be sure to try only one at a time. (Like, you can't jump out of the window, and drop a book out of the window at the same time. That's not bunking. That's suicide.) And it’s not my fault if they expel you (which I am sure they will), because staying at home IS a form of bunking, about which this whole article was written. The only thing I can say is, well, to always think twice before you bunk class, especially because times have changed. As I have already warned you, new characters are in the frame now, and it’s your choice to risk everything you dare not risk. You decide.

P.S:

-The author is not propagating negative tendencies in the mind of the reader.

-The author IS propagating negative tendencies in the mind of the reader.

-The author can't make up his mind.

-The author can make up his mind.