...THE JOKE: IT WAS AN ENGLISH CLASS

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Hey guys, Sushant here...up with an article, called 
 'ENGLISH CLASSES.'

For most of my childhood, my impression about an english class was like:

But, as we all know, The greatest events in life often occur unplanned. Well,  the idea of authoring this blog alongside my co author(s) was one such unplanned event, which no doubt, is induced by the offensive attitude by our college towards literature....
I would like to share my present conditions in the english classes, rather consider this to be the description of  my eternally prolonging massacre...(I do come up with crazy stuff.)

My co author(s) and I come from a school where our literary talents were born. (assuming we have them, well, you decide) We are trained in English grammar to a sorta professional level. ( damn, I do make up things pretty quick.) (All thanks to the greatest english teacher I've ever met, Tr.Mary Fernandes)

So, when we entered our college for the first time, I never would have imagined that a college with such wonderful infrastucture, could even throw up such low standard of English lectures!...
from the day on which i first attended my english classes, i started turning into an insomniac..."is this happening for real!?" i used to ponder...

  
So, Here's a fragment of what once happened in my english class. I'll narrate the situation here:




The fan was spinning its day out, as grumpily as the rest of us. It was the dusk of summer and the monsoons were yet to start. It was thus quite hot and humid most of the day....
It was an English class. The usual time for it was just before the lunch break, around 1pm. The class usually lasted for an hour, draining the much needed enthusiasm which I don't know why or when it would be used. 

It was only the beginning of the first year in my college and not many classes had passed, clearly I had no idea of how the staff really was. (My first impression although, proved to be right.)  
The lecturer walked into the class and stepped on the mini stage. (she was really short so she had to do so.) She picked up a chalk and wrote the title on the board, "GRAMMER." 
I almost died.
I sank into my desk and a rally of thoughts raged through my head.
"Are you serious!?"
"Am I where I really am!?"
"Is this a nightmare!? My my...is this really happening!?"

Just then, my pal sittting right beside me, rose up to the situation and pulled me out of my misery.
He just said, "dude, we are in !@#$. What do you expect?" (thats just the college name i am trying to hide, thanks to my kindness. No abuses)

It was a while later when when i realised that i had been thinkning about it for almost half an hour and the word "grammEr" was now replaced by 'Do as directed.' I looked around the class, just casually. I found faces worn and torn by the tormenting lectures.
 (I later found out that they were caught under a partial hypnotism, while in the pursuit of comprehending on what was being taught.)
The class went on normally for a few minutes. 

The lecturer had asked us to frame a sentence using the word written on the board. She had written four words before and I had already framed sentences using them....piece of cake.

Then...the fifth word followed, "THREAT." Yeah, what's so special? I framed another sentence on the go. But, when the lecturer prononced the word, the class was like:

The class burst into laughter when the lecturer pronounced the word threat as "THREET"

I was like:

....and

   

Come on man...you call yourself an english professor and you can't even pronounce a word? You've gotta be kidding me!!! 
Yet, you are like:

 THIS WAS ONE OF THOSE CHRONICLES...

ONE PIECE OF ADVICE: 

KEEP YOUR MIND OPEN AND KEEP READING WRITERS' RETREAT TO STAY UNHYPNOTISED!

-SUSHANT KULKARNI
sushya28@gmail.com