My School & College Life

The Glorious Town of Khurja
You probably don’t know about this, but in the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh there is a small town named ‘KHURJA’. People who hail from that town never get tired of saying that Khurja is world famous; but the best part is that only they know what it is famous for. So, if you are not from Khurja and don’t know why Khurja is world famous, you don’t have to worry about that (Who gives a shit anyway.. right?).

But that town means a lot for me, because I am one of those people who spent their early years in that town. And I spent my first 19 years there. Though I don’t care what it’s famous for but I love it anyway, it’s in my blood (and it shows).

Now, Khurja has so many schools but it has only one real college. People say that it’s enough for a small town like Khurja, but I say then why not just one school or just one shop for all the commodities or just one doctor?

When I ask these kinds of questions, people tell me that I am not making any sense and that I am an idiot. Well maybe I am an idiot, but at least tell me WHY ITS NOT making any sense to you. I deserve to know.

When I was a little kid I used to watch my big-brother going to school and that made me want to go to school too. But little I knew that when my day will come, I will be screaming and running back home like a little bitch. 

And one day I was thrown into a dark and damp section of that school, filled with other crying little bitches like me. 

Kids being taken to KP Montessori School
This school was called ‘K.P. Montessori School’  and all of the kids in that school were entitled for a beating whenever the teachers would feel right. Especially us, the Prep Class. We used to get beaten up by our class teacher Miss Kshama (मिस क्षमा); YES.. IRONY IS A BITCH, ISNT IT? 

And all that beating scarred me for life so much that I never wanted to go to school. I especially thank my 3rd grade class-teacher Deepak Sharma and his tight slaps for the fact that I am almost deaf from my right ear (this is real, no fake story) and also my 11th-12th class teacher Bhuvanesh Gupta to make sure that all the kids in his class would know how the prisoners of The Cellular Jail would feel when they were beaten up in an open courtyard.

I was disappointed to know that students in this town can be beaten up by teachers/professors at any stage of their academic life. I somehow crawled through my high school life but the junior college (10+2) was the time when the things got really ugly.

As said earlier, the experience of beating in my junior college was the same as the inmates getting beaten in the Cellular Jail. We used to get beaten up in the assembly ground. I will describe the beating process in some other article (it needs a totally dedicated article and I am sure you will like it). So, two things which scared the shit out of me were the beating and some BAD things that happened to some boys in NCC (the "kind of things" which happen in prison, wink-wink!).

Well, this whole thing was going and one day, I was in college! And the funny thing was that my junior college and college were on the opposite sides of the same road and both of their main gates were merely 20ft. away from each other. So it didn’t feel like I am going to some other place. I mean I was 'literally on the same street and in the same place. Totally like, ‘Same Shit, Different People’!

I used to hear a lot from my dad and other old-timers about how great and excellent this college was in their days, but, I was again in for a shock. 


This college looks more like a museum.
There were no professors in the classes, the furniture of that college has been the same since it was installed. Imagine yourself sitting in a class where the furniture is from the 1930’s and is in the shape of probably the same guy who built it. Even the books in the library were also the same which my dad and his friends read. 

One thing that I can tell you about the facility (the building) is that it’s so antique that it needs preservation efforts because its  on the brim of extinction (literally, you should see that place).

Now, ABOUT THE PROFESSORS; that college is the reason why I HATE professors. What most of them used to do was just sit together and bitch about each other behind their backs. From one of my reliable sources among the professors I came to know that in one ‘Professors Only Party’ two of the senior professors were discussing how there were not enough hot chiks in the college and how the current girls with no hot qualities were making the college look miserable. Now the only professors who were sincere and cared about the student were limited to the count of 3. Also, you should keep in mind that studying in that college didnt mean that any professor wont beat you up (yes they will).

The most interesting thing of that college for me was ‘The Lab Practical’. To give you an idea about how the practical used to be in that college, I will give you a personal experience from my final year of the college. 

The practical in the corresponding subject carries 30 marks (out of a total of 130). Now I had 2 practical subjects, 1.Physics and 2.Chemistry... AND MAN I SUCK AT CHEMISTRY!!! I suck so much that the only chemical equation I know correctly is H2+O=H2O.

So I had this chemistry practical exam and had no idea what I would do in there. After some time-wasting (putting something on fire and then putting the same thing off fire), they called me in for ‘Viva-Voce’ (which was the key for the marks). 

When I went in there was this guest examiner sitting with the H.O.D. of the Chemistry Department (who was my Dad’s buddy). I was preparing myself to explain why I didn’t know the answers of any of the questions asked and the first and the only question that guest examiner asked me was, 

“What does your Dad do?”
-  “He is a Lawyer.”, I said.

And that was it, I was done with my Viva-Voce. I was moving out of the room and I saw my Dad’s buddy (the HOD) whispering something into the Lab Assistant's ear. The lab-assistant followed me and when I reached my station, he asked me to show him my record sheet (which was blank BTW). He then said, “Write anything in your record sheet. Anything, just don’t leave it blank. Got it?

He left and I still had no idea about what to write in my record sheet. But I filled with something and I got 29/30 in that practical.

I should have been happy for those marks but I knew some of my class mates who didn’t have anyone who knew the professors and so they were not so lucky with the marks in the practicals. Want to know how much they got? The most brilliant one of them got 19/30.

And a jerk (who sucks in Chemistry more than me) from my class who had this rich dad who knew everyone in the town got 28/30. He is still a jerk but his practical marks are as rich as his dad's bank account. But all of my (good-student) classmate-friends covered that difference in the exams and scored way better than that jerk (and me of course). But now I ask you,"Is it a good system where you are marked on how well someone represented you?".

And the best part about that college is, things are still the same as they were in my days or my dad's. Now would please answer my question which I asked in the beginning of this article;

Why don’t we need other college in this town?

But I still make no sense to anyone and I believe I never will!

P.S.: Want to know, what did I write in my record sheet of that Chemistry Practical ?
  -- My very first movie scene.