Abandon hostel
There is a lot happening in college these days. A lot of people have questioned my involvement in the same, but I completely deny all alegations. For you see, the 'happenings' that I talk of is the recent migration trend. Quite a few hostelites, fed up of their routine hostel life, decided to strike quarry elsewhere. I'll take liberty in reporting what has been going around for a couple of weeks now.
It all started with a rebel 3rd year group wishing to move out of hostel.[Let's name them 'The rebels' for the sake of this article]. They did their research and found that alcoholism was a crime that was most severely treated in the institute. So be it. They found an ally in a 4th year whom they knew and wished to move to the greener pastures on the other side.
On a certain night, they arranged for empty bottles of vodka, and filled them up with the water that was used to water the institute's gardens.[You see, none of them were actually alcoholics.] As they entered the college campus, they bribed the watchman into catching them with the bottles. The watchman was an honest guy and flatly refused. The rebels had hit an unforseen hurdle. Who would have expected honesty in our country?
Luckily, one of the college spies was on patrol that night. He spotted the rebels and the watchman in conversation. From what his feeble eyesight could make out, he could recognize the bottles of vodka. [This spy was a drunk guy himself]. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, to the hostel supervisor. He gasped and panted and blurted out reports of the scene he had seen.
So, while the rebels were trying to negotiate with the watchman, the supervisor appeared out of nowhere. To the rebels, it was as if God himself had descended. They heaved a huge sigh of relief as he glided towards them. The watchman, of course, changed state quicker than ice in a blast furnace. He gave what he thought to be a smart salute and pointed first at the rebels and then at the bottles, with some finality.
The supervisor held up a hand to ensure silence. [Even the chirping crickets jammed their feet up their mouths.] He opened a bottle with caution and held it to his nose.
[Now here I must add, this guy had never seen or drunk or smelled vodka before. So, he had no idea what it looked or tasted or smelled like.]
Anyways, he held the damned bottle to his nose. The most outrageously disguting smell emerged from the bottle. The garden water had done the trick. The supervisor ran into the bushes to retch as the watchman looked on with curiosity. The rebels struggled to hide their glee. They were hugging each other when the supervisor got back. He assumed them to be hugs of grief and comfort. In his eyes, the wrong-doers had been caught. The warden will be delighted with his catch. He would probably award him a medal.
As for these bastards, they will get thrown out of hostel.
[To be continued ...]
It all started with a rebel 3rd year group wishing to move out of hostel.[Let's name them 'The rebels' for the sake of this article]. They did their research and found that alcoholism was a crime that was most severely treated in the institute. So be it. They found an ally in a 4th year whom they knew and wished to move to the greener pastures on the other side.
On a certain night, they arranged for empty bottles of vodka, and filled them up with the water that was used to water the institute's gardens.[You see, none of them were actually alcoholics.] As they entered the college campus, they bribed the watchman into catching them with the bottles. The watchman was an honest guy and flatly refused. The rebels had hit an unforseen hurdle. Who would have expected honesty in our country?
Luckily, one of the college spies was on patrol that night. He spotted the rebels and the watchman in conversation. From what his feeble eyesight could make out, he could recognize the bottles of vodka. [This spy was a drunk guy himself]. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, to the hostel supervisor. He gasped and panted and blurted out reports of the scene he had seen.
So, while the rebels were trying to negotiate with the watchman, the supervisor appeared out of nowhere. To the rebels, it was as if God himself had descended. They heaved a huge sigh of relief as he glided towards them. The watchman, of course, changed state quicker than ice in a blast furnace. He gave what he thought to be a smart salute and pointed first at the rebels and then at the bottles, with some finality.
The supervisor held up a hand to ensure silence. [Even the chirping crickets jammed their feet up their mouths.] He opened a bottle with caution and held it to his nose.
[Now here I must add, this guy had never seen or drunk or smelled vodka before. So, he had no idea what it looked or tasted or smelled like.]
Anyways, he held the damned bottle to his nose. The most outrageously disguting smell emerged from the bottle. The garden water had done the trick. The supervisor ran into the bushes to retch as the watchman looked on with curiosity. The rebels struggled to hide their glee. They were hugging each other when the supervisor got back. He assumed them to be hugs of grief and comfort. In his eyes, the wrong-doers had been caught. The warden will be delighted with his catch. He would probably award him a medal.
As for these bastards, they will get thrown out of hostel.
[To be continued ...]
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