BOB...

Bob came into our lives the day when a friend of mine drew his picture on the blackboard of our classroom during recess. She wrote beside his picture, “This is Bob. Bob stole my cookie…ha ha Bob….ha ha”….

From that day onwards Bob became a part of our lives as he entertained us(or rather we entertained ourselves with him) during boring economic and vernacular classes.
Anyone whose reading this right now might probably be wondering who the hell Bob is…well bob is a person whose dead. He was always dead…that’s all that can be said about Bob.

Well as you know people come and people go, but Bob would always turn up in everything we did. So when our exams started and it was understood that we would not be able to give Bob much of our time, Bob made me do something that would prevent this from happening. That’s when I made the “BOB-BOX”…..

This box was a pink box, which had one lid and two little drawers on each side. I made many paper chits that showed Bob in different attires and in each chit was a message from Bob himself, which would tell you how you would do in your exams.
Thus through the Bob-box, once again Bob became a part of our exam conversations and was saved from the ‘oblivions curse.

So that’s all………

UNdefined...

It’s not always clear as to why people do some things…
Take last night for instance… I cut out all the puzzles from an activity book I used to own when I was a kid and burnt them in the terrace…
It gave me an odd sort of satisfaction.
Sometimes u feel satisfied after doing weird things…
Like when you’re squeezing ketchup out of a ketchup-sachet.

Yesterday when I was having my dinner my grandfather asked me a question. He said, “Have you ever had a full chicken before?” the question startled me and I didn’t know what to say. I sat there gaping at him, as he launched into a story of how once he and his friends had roasted a live chicken and how he had eaten it all up.

I found myself thinking over the “chicken-eating” incident while I was studying organic chemistry later that night and found it really amusing and funny…I wondered why I hadn’t laughed out when my grandfather had told me the story as that’s what I normally would have done instead of thinking about it two hours later and smiling to myself.

I have absolutely no idea why I am writing this….
Then again,
Its not always clear as to why people do some things….

DISAGREEMENT

“It does not do to dwell on dreams”
~Prof. A. Dumbledore

Sometimes the real world sucks….
That’s why I choose to dwell on dreams
It’s much safer…

Screw you Dumbledore!

ROBINSON CRUSOE

Everyone thinks Robinson Crusoe was a man of courage, will power and determinance…

I’d say he was an idiot!
You know why? I’ll tell you why…

See. When he struck the island he must’ve been in his late 20’s…
Yeah so… he stayed in the island for about 40 years (!!)…so when he finally reached home he must be nearing 70 years…
How much longer do you think he lived anyway? So what was the point?

He should’ve popped his clogs himself and gone to heaven and partied with the angels or something……. idiot…

SHAKESPEARE THIS..SHAKESPEARE THAT..

Shakespeare wrote …… “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”

Sounds nice. Doesn’t it?
Lets put it in a different way and see what it sounds like…

Shakespeare wrote………a story, about a guy, …who dreamt he was an ASS!!



(Leave your comments please)

PRE-EXAM HALLUCINATIONS...

Twas night…
Midnight….
Passed midnight…..
Um…and passed that as well…

I gazed at the pages filled with historical information, which would make me more knowledgeable and improve my IQ…or maybe, just make me pass ICSE History.

My nocturnal companions had abandoned me that night. They were silent…maybe even asleep…
As I though that I was the only distressed soul awake at this hour of the night, I was proved wrong, as soft dragging footsteps drifted across from the other side of the closed door of my silent room.

Before I could make a move, the door opened soundlessly, and there he stood, sparkling from head to bare feet in those slumberous golden grains……THE SANDMAN!!

A hunched up old man with a long sandy beard and an abnormally long nose, he stood before me wearing a ragged shirt and a sarong that reached midway his shin.

I almost mistook him for my grandfather at first…
But he, unlike Dadu, was covered in glittering gold sand-dust, as he stood there before me, his face expressionless, his feet…exceptionally clean.

And then it started…..the slow mourning music that had a hypnotizing effect on my already affected brain (due to studying history that is..).
The music seemed to be inside me, my body seemed to be its source. The room started to spin; it was as if I was high on it…

“Say your prayers little one
Don’t forget, my son
To include everyone

Tuck you in, warm within
Keep you free from sin
Till the sandman he comes

Sleep with one eye open
Gripping your pillow tight

Exit light
Enter night
Take my hand
Off to never never land

Something’s wrong, shut the light
Heavy thoughts tonight
And they aren’t of snow white

Dreams of war, dreams of liars
Dreams of dragon’s fire
And of things that will bite

Sleep with one eye open
Gripping your pillow tight

Exit light
Enter night
Take my hand
Off to never never land

Now I lay me down to sleep
Pray the lord my soul to keep
If I die before I wake
Pray the lord my soul to take

Hush little baby, don’t say a word
And never mind that noise you heard
It’s just the beast under your bed,
In your closet, in your head

Exit light
Enter night
Grain of sand
Exit light
Enter night
Take my hand
We’re off to never never land” ………..

The Sandman went around me in circles, slowly, dragging his clean feet, dancing his enchanting dance……..dancing…and dancing …..and dancing….

Right when I was thinking to myself that :
1) I’d have to watch an old man dance for the rest of the night and,
2) If my parents, on their way to the bathroom, would witness this scene, they’d probably think:
· I’d hired an old stripper AND/OR
· My grandfather had finally lost it……
The Sandman stopped dancing and looked at me with eyes of the deepest red (due to lack of sleep considering his age cause he has to go all over the world putting people to sleep).
He reached inside a pocket and pulled out a small, golden, silk sack. He untied it and took out the sand and approached me slowly, dragging his feet (still clean!)……
One step-two step…..one step-two step….one step-two step…..

And then slowly, efficiently and mercilessly he sprinkled the tiny grains of sand onto my eyelids. I fought hard to keep them open( I still had about seven chapters to complete!!!), but it was of no use. My eyelids got heavier and heavier and I could no longer keep them open…and then………the whole world went BLACK….

I woke up to the twittering sound of birds and bees……and then what do u think happened??
What else?…I went to school and screwed up my history exam.