8:30 classes are traumatic

‘MBA is hard, they say; and now I know why. It’s not the subjects or the teachers that bog you down. It’s not even the assignments and surprise quizzes that make your life a walking hell; its the 8:30 am classes that make you question your decision to fall into the trap of a b-school. And before you wonder why is it such a big deal, try waking up from under the comfort of a blanket when the temperature outside is a crisp 5 degrees or maybe with a nice hangover after getting sloshed the previous night. ‘Chee, alcohol !,’ you snivel in disgust. Yeah, well may be but 8:30 classes are still a daunting task. Add to that a teacher who is hell bent to make you fall asleep with something as dreary as corporate law and you have a Molotov Cocktail, a perfect recipe for disaster. It is no coincidence therefore that my scores in all the 8:30 lectures is very low. I am never able to attend the classes ! ‘

I took a pause. All the while Dad had listened to my diatribe patiently. Then he spoke, ” Fine, I hear you. I have a solution. Don’t sleep at night. Study. And when its 8:30 go to the class.”

“But Dad, ” I protested. He stopped me with a slight wave of his hand. “And stop trying to woo the girls in your college. If they are sane, you don’t stand a chance anyway. ”

I heeded his instructions. Now I don’t sleep at night. I always attend the 8:30 classes. My grade in the 8:30 classes have changed somewhat, from a B to a C – . It’s probably because I am still trying to find a girl.


You Take Me For A Cur?

Taking away everything that I hold dear,

Leaving me empty with a message oh so clear,

Washing away any remnants of sunshine,

Darkness sits heavy on this heart of mine.


Whirling me fast, turning me round and round,

Till I am dazed and I fall to the ground,

Losing all I ever had in this ne’er ending life,

Punched in the face, playing sport with a knife.


Tossing me up, throwing me with disdain,

The sun burns me, so does the bad rain,

Toying with me, kicking me like a cur,

Forgetting how friends we once were.


I die a thousand deaths, before my time,

The bells they toll, before they are to even chime,

You laugh, a thousand daggers pierce me,

You are a devil and that’s all you’ll ever be.