Things have happened in my life in the past month, things I haven’t mentioned in my blog. Things of gravity which deserve mention, so here goes.
Around a month and 3-4 days ago, a few days before my final exams I got sick. High fever which refused to come down. The doctor had a hunch that it might be something serious and told me to give a bloodtest. I missed the first exam because I still hadn’t recovered from fever. We got the test reports before the next exam and it confirmed that I had typhoid which meant I was confined to bedrest for atleast 3 weeks. My mother called the school and informed them that I won’t be able to appear for the exams. They said they would consider my marks in the midterms for calculating my percentage. I failed both chemistry and physics in the midterms so basically that meant I won’t meet the passing criteria and that had me worried.
My mother went to school and talked to the vice-principal. She said that I’d have to give a retest once I recover since I failed two major subjects in the midterms. She also recommended that I change streams since I seemed to have no interest in science. Later at home when my mother told me about it I decided this was the best opportunity to try to convince her to let me take Arts. I also told her I hadn’t prepared a thing for the exams and would probably fail the retests too. She freaked out at that but she did seem to be considering Arts. I was happy and hopeful for a while but alas! She backtracked the next day. She discussed it with my dad (who is currently posted in Mumbai) and they decided that I was capable enough of studying science and that Arts is too risky bother with. I was told to face facts and develop an interest in science. I refused to give in and simply told them I’d fail the tests on purpose if they forced me into science. Finally, after hours of arguing they finally realized how opposed to science I am. They gave me an alternative. Commerce. I was told to forget Arts and choose between Science and Commerce. That was tough. I am not particularly fond of commerce either. Ultimately, I figured commerce was the lesser of two evils. That raised another set of questions. Should I repeat 11th? Should I shift to commerce in 12th? If I do so, will I be able to cope? It was decided atlast that I’d shift to commerce in 12th, see if I can cope, if not I shift to 11th in July. So now I had to pass retests for which I was not prepared at all. I found it to be funny that in order to escape the subjects I loathed I had to pass them first.
The school people got in touch with us finally last week and asked me and my mother to go and meet the vice principal. I was a bundle of nerves when I went there. There were all these commerce teachers sitting there with her, teachers I hardly knew. And there was my class teacher too. They asked me if I really wanted to change streams and I said yes. The accountancy teacher then gave me a royal lecture on the difficulties of the commerce stream. I remained adamant because I really wanted to get out of science. Since I had passed maths in the midterms and done well in the maths Unit Test I was told I wouldn’t have to give a retest. Instead, there is going to be a small test in May in accountancy and business studies to see if Im able to cope. Bloody relief. After over a month of endless suspense, everything has been sorted out. I am now officially a 12th standard commerce student! :D
My school reopened today but the Doctor has ordered me to rest for another week. 
I’m sick of being confined to the house all day. I’ve gotten so lethargic.
Now for the other important thing. Not really important but interesting nonetheless.
Last Thursday evening I went for a walk in the park. The weather was heavenly, the sky was ominously dark, the smell of rain hung heavily in the air and a gentle wind rippled through the trees. It was irresistable. I had to go out. And go out I did, a pen in my pocket, a small notebook in hand (I carry my pen and notebook wherever I go) and my trusted and beloved MP3 player plugged to my ears. Gerry Rafferty’s Baker Street is a great song for a walk in pleasant weather btw. Anyway, I made my way to the park and sat down on an unoccupied bench, enjoying the climes, observing the kids playing there and grooving to the music. The adults who generally come there to walk had disappeared by then. I tried writing but inspiration kept evading me. Soon it got dark and the wind died down too. There was no rain. I was thoroughly disappointed. And to make matters worse, there were god damn mosquitos everywhere.
A bunch of kids, all around 9-10 years of age, were playing cricket nearby. It wasn’t a pretty sight, they were horrible at it. But what else can be expected of 10 year olds? I was probably even worse at that age. A bunch of guys around my age were hanging out nearby with their girlfriends. They were huge. And they were constantly taunting the kids and interrupting their game in what seemed to be an attempt at showing how tough they were and impress their girlfriends. One of the kids got fed up of it and lashed back at one of the guys. The guy, sensing the threat to his manhood, grabbed the kid by his collar and threatened to hit him. The others kid stopped playing and merely gaped. And neither his friends nor the girls told him to stop. Feeling that things were getting a tad too thick I kind of intervened and told the chap to pick someone his own size.
Sensing another threat to his manhood *rolleyes* he turned on me. I am half his size. Last I checked, picking someone your own size didn’t mean beating up someone who comes to your shoulders and has thighs as thick as your arms. As I said, I am puny and something of a natural pacifist (read yellow). The standard abuses were exchanged and since I have a razor sharp wit (as you can see, I am not very high on modesty) it just made him seem dumber. So he did the logical thing and punched me in the face. His friends then decided to join in on the fun. So there I was, lying on the grass getting punched and kicked all over the place. I think I managed to hit one of them in the groin while swinging my arms wildly trying to block blows. By the time they were done, I was numb with pain, the kids were thoroughly entertained and their girlfriends were significantly impressed.
I remained on the ground for a little longer then got up, picked up my notebook, pen and MP3 player and staggered back home, keeping to the darker parts of the streets so no one could see the bruises. I got home and saw that my mother wasn’t back yet. I went to the bathroom and did a damage check.
a) Beauty of a black eye
b) Splendid bruise on the ribs
c) Busted lip
There are more injuries but they’re really minor ones. Generally body ache, scraped knees and all that rot.
The pain has lessened now but I still haven’t entirely recovered.
Oh and my mother has forbidden me from stepping out of the house for a few weeks. She makes it seem like I messed with the mafia or something. What are those dumbfuck delinquents gonna do, riddle me with bullets from their Thompsons the moment they see me?
Currently listening to: The Who – Behind Blue Eyes
