Friday, August 28, 2009

Whuddaeff time.

This is not a good time for me to be alive, or applying to college. Because when you're broke, you shouldn't aim, or dream big. You should limit yourself to that obscure-university-in-some-random-part-of-the-city bubble, from which you may never escape.

Then there's the recession. Students with excellent credentials are lining up for financial aid, unsure of whether they'll actually get in because they've applied for aid with their admissions. There's tonnes of them. What can someone with 5 O level As aspire to? You might try, but if at the end of the day everything just falls flat on its face, there really isn't anything to be done.


Of course, we've got that one place in Pakistan that everyone wants to go to, no prizes for guessing which one. Their selection criteria is tougher than that of some of the best universities in the world.

The world gives me more and more incentives to shoot myself.

Friday, August 21, 2009

For the millionth time in my life, my pc has crashed.
*Shoots herself*

Monday, August 3, 2009

Room number 4 and Murgha.

So, back to that chicken coop otherwise known as School. Now Lyceum, as some of you might know, is tiny (Pictures here ). Top that off with the vertical construction, and the addition of rooms wherever there might be any space left over, any corner where, God forbid, SUNLIGHT can find the poor, unassuming lambs that the student body comprises of. I walked into school to find all the A2s (i.e what we've become now.) crowding around the front. Near the fountain. On the mooras. The benches. Stumbling over each other. Shoving and nudging to get a glimpse of those pieces of paper which would let them know how screwed they are for the next year. And then there was the lack of fans. And Victor strutting about gleefully, trying to bully people, and failing miserably at it.

It was then that I decided to go check out what was happening in the shed. And I realised why everyone was crowded around the front. The shed, where the ever abundant supply of mooras were found early in the morning in straight rows, was closed off. No mooras, only lots of cement, workers, and noise pollution.

So I got myself fries and tried to feel better about the whole situation, and I hadn't even checked my timetable yet. When I did, however, I had to stuff myself with yet more fries, because I am extremely screwed. I have constant literature classes. I will be eating, sleeping, breathing, crapping, talking... everythinging literature at school this year. Now I love the subject, but 3 hours of literature class without break...Seriously? No, please.

Then there's the case of the wretched room 4. Last year, there was no such thing as room for at the Lyceum. No sign of it. Therefore, confused I was when I found out I'd be living in Room 4. Most of my literature classes are there. So are a few sociology and history classes. Room 4 is tiny, without ( at the expense of sounding like a brat) an airconditioner. The only saving grace, and a feeble one at that, is the view of the huge house next door, with that big garden and the desi murgha roaming around insolently, with his feathers gleaming in the sun.(Friend: What the hell. Inn ke ghar mein murgha kyuun hai? Me: There was one in your house too... Friend: No, but that was a chooza that grew into a murgha. Me: How can you say that this one wasn't? Besides.. your family ate that one...... My point being, the murgha will be a source of many inane discussions to come. I have bagged the seat by the window.) But the murgha I will get to see only if I get very lucky, because on a plot of land that big, he could go off anywhere (He disappeared today). I have yet to figure out whether that huge garden with the murgha( as entertaining an avenue as it might be for my daydreaming ventures), has been strategically placed right fucking next door to torment us. I mean. Here we are, at the Lyceum. Cooped up, with no source of light, no fans....350 students ( 750-800 when the A1s come), in this small building, bumping into each other again and again, and there he is, a murgha in all his feathery glory, on that vast expanse of land......all alone..happy....

It is so, so ironic. I wouldn't be surprised if that thing turned around and mooned me.

On my first day back to school, I gained 5 pounds, got screwed over and died in the heat.