Part 1: All Your Base Comments in TC Are Belong To Us.
Technical Communication class. i.e. a well-timed one-hour during which everyone works on their assignments/practical files/reads Sheldon or Wodehouse or even Ayn Rand (yes, it’s that kind of class) etc. In between, we steal a few glimpses of our err… attractive TC Prof. whose pout has resulted in her earning the nickname of “Angelina Jolie”. We were learning something related to article-writing. I don’t mean to brag, but, as I WAS a *ahem* Star *ahem* Student Correspondent with the Times of India, so I should know a thing or two about writing newspaper articles. Anyway, the first thing about article-writing is the headline. It should be snappy and something that “hooks” the reader. “So”, she asked, “Can anyone come up here and write yesterday’s headline of either the Times of India or the Hindustan Times?” As expected, there were no volunteers. “Harish” she said. I was busy doing my chemistry practical file, so it took some time for the familiarity of the name to sink in. My first instinct was to refuse…
I took the piece of chalk in my hand. I approached the green-board (yes, it’s green. This isn’t a school, despite the name). I began to write…
There was no reaction. I followed it up with a couple of L‘s. Still no reaction. Deep breath. I had to write this quickly…
YOUR was but the work of a couple of seconds and BASE came even quicker… Two people in the class of 50 understood (Akhil was absent) and burst out laughing. A life’s aim was accomplished.
Part 2: All Your Beers Are Belong To Us.
The end of the semester coincided with the 19th year of my existence… It’s college… Alcohol can’t be too far away. The problem was and is, that there’s an age-limit. Guys from outside India and even Delhi might wonder what the big deal is all about, I am 19… Well, babies (a tribute, sort of)… the min. age in Delhi and NCR for the consumption of alcoholic drinks is 25! That’s right! 7 years more than that in the US! Jebus has left the building… Ajeebus has taken his place. (That’s a pun, there… no, wait… THERE) But, we decided to give it a try.
Into the valley of Geoffrey’s Bar rode the mighty… three. (cowards, the rest of them). At the entrance of the place, we thought that there might be a glitch in the program. We all didn’t shave and look nearly 26 anyways…. but we were carrying college bags. Our back-up was that we’re doing our MBA from the Business School. BVP people can also use this ruse… NSIT/DCE… I’m not sure. An IITian can just say “I’m an IITian, let me in.” Anyway, I walked (confidently?) in first and asked for a table for three which was granted. On being seated, we stashed our bags below the table and waited for the menus to arrive. First up, came the starters menu. The cheapest item on it was the Chicken Five Spices… for a 195 bucks! Not good.
Then, the waiter placed another menu in my hand…
I opened it and I could hear the concluding part of the second section of Handel’s Messiah play in my head. It was the drinks menu. Everything I had ever learned about drinking was from the Ultimate Book. We decided that we’d better order the cheapest Hors d’œuvre and three pints of Foster’s. The order was placed as follows:
“We would like…”
“A plate of Chicken Five Spices”
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“I’m sorry, sir…”
“We do not…”
*oh, shit he’s going to say serve alcohol to people under-25!*
“…have pints. Shall I get three bottles instead?”
“YE… I mean… yes, please. Thank You”
We hung around for an hour or so. The ambiance was great. Stimulating stuff. We ordered another bot too. In total, the beer was consumed as follows:
I stayed the most sober… Fudda was smiling like an idiot for hours afterwards. The bill was a grand one. (punny, I know)
We all had headaches the next morning, but I doubt if those were hangovers.
The beer tasted bitter and seriously, I doubt if I’ll ever order the revolting stuff again! Unless I want to write, of course, because I noticed that in my mildly inebriated state, words flowed from my mouth like… sewage and effluents from an industrial plant into the Yamuna river. (I could’ve for example, come up with some better imagery)
So that was that.
I’m not making it a habit.
Nimish, Dinesh…No comparisons.