Skip to main content


  1. Every boy in your class ( in some cases, every boy in the college ) knows your name. Even though you are not "their types".
  2. If  you are a steal ( in the literal sense ) , you might have been requested for "being more than friends" multiple number of times. At times, the same guy requests you many times. Not his fault though.
  3. If the request in [2] is accepted, the girl always has the upper hand. When that lowers down, you can always break up. Requests are like buses ( cliched but true ... mostly ).  
  4. You cannot decide on a mass-bunk on your own. Support from the Martians is  ALWAYS needed. 
  5. Your assignments WILL be copied / photocopied / circulated throughout the class , especially on the night before the submission date. Even if you have copied it from someone else.     
  6. You can be loved or be hated ( rarely ) but certainly NOT ignored.
  7. Teachers won't suspect you at first for any foul play. 
  8. In mechanical workshops ( i.e. , if you have 1/2/3/4 guys in your group ) , you don't have to do much. Just stand and stare - not at the guys / instructor but at the workbench. But if you are in a girls-only group, be prepared to sweat your brows. 
  9. You have to sit in the first four benches of the class during lectures ( unless you are REALLY that cool ).   
  10. You are noticed. No matter how geeky, boring or disinterested you are. 

P.S. : This is not meant to offend anyone. Take it with a spoonful of humour. Have fun.

Pic Courtesy : Google  


And the best one was the last point..
☆ Rià ღ said…
ha ha...good one!! :D
requests are like buses:P

loved it
Thousif Raza said…
ok :) he he... nice one :)

take care and keep writing...........
yamini meduri said…
wow...too different...!!

nice post dear :)
rainboy said…
oh aisa kya ? :P
Phoenix said…
lol!! :P :) sahi hai!!
Anwesa said…
@Chocolate Lover,


@ Pramoda,

Yeah :) My fav too !

@ Ria,


@redemption .... ,

Thanks for dropping by !

:) Really ? Thanks !

ji bilkul :)


Popular posts from this blog


I cannot remember my mother,
only sometime in the midst of my play
a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
the tune of some song that she used to
hum while rocking my cradle.

I cannot remember my mother
but when in the early autumn morning
the smell of the shiuli flowers floats in the air,
the scent of the morning service in the
temple comes to me as the scent of my mother.

I cannot remember my mother
only when from bedroom window
I send my eyes into the blue of the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of my mother's gaze on my face
has spread all over the sky.

~Rabindranath Tagore
Note : This was one of  the earliest poems I read,loved and cherished.


Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017