People are weird, in the true sense of the word. One look at the madhouse of a school I go to and you'll know what I mean. With every turn of the staircase, the language changes, why, the very mood changes.
Ground floor= General weirdness. The tall and the beautiful, the brilliant and the duh-d, all over the place. There is the occasional swear word, the ape-like antics, the lip-gloss coated giggle. Yes, that is the ground floor.
The first floor= Tolerable weirdness. Little twerps who dress the way their mothers want them to, malippu in their hair, with no sense of shame or table manners. The kind who run up to you and call you either Akka or Anna and wail at the top of their voice if you tell them they're stupid ("I will tell to miss. You call me stupid, no? I will tell miss you're saying bad bad words.")
The second floor= Tiny spurts of weirdness. Like when you see sixth-grade boys running around a pillar in circles, the challenge being that one should not even lay a hair on the pillar. However unbelievable that may sound, it is just as true as anything that ever lived.
The third floor= Extreme, extreme weirdness. Intolerable to the point of wanting to stay off that floor entirely. Why, you ask? Oh, only because it is a second home to vile wannabes. Super-cool on the outside with low-waist trousers and skirts, styled hair, imported accents, et al. But on the inside, they have the mentalities of teletubbies. Only not quite developed. Save the peoplehood (I love, love, love my friends. So sue me.), the rest of our batch are bundles of raging hormones on legs.
Boys swagger (They think they look SO hot. I'm sorry, but the anteater that was on Animal Planet last week was much more appealing.) Girls do the catwalk (I don't do the catwalk, so, as my fellow floor-mates see it, I am not a girl.) And they co-exist in sweaty peace (You read right, sweaty. It isn't 42 degrees outside for nothing.) only because they find each other so attractive. It is, therefore, most necessary that I eat lunch with The Peoplehood of The Freaky, only for that whiff of sanity. If it weren't for them, I'd have drowned in the swimming pool a long time back (I can swim. The pool's just as pool-y as any other, people use it like they would any other. Need I say more?)
With that, I shall get back to analysing the kindergarten section of school. I bid you good day.
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A constant struggle to find the right words and the right pair of shoes.
About Me
- Manvi V.
- I'm a nobody with hopes of being a somebody. But then again, isn't that what everybody says?
4 comments:
1st floor:. Little twerps who dress the way their mothers want them to, malippu in their hair, with no sense of shame or table manners. The kind who run up to you and call you either Akka or Anna and wail at the top of their voice if you tell them they're stupid???????
really??...u juniors don realise dat ppl hu r 1 and a half times taller n wear pants 1 and a haf inches lower dan u li'll kids govern the first floor??akka>>it seems..n i hardly give a reaction evn wen sumone calls me a conceited bas***d
Gautham, You aren't a twerp, you dig? So, none of this applies to you.
actually,there are weirdos of every kind in the first floor.people who dont even talk and act like they have fits when a member of the opposite sex talks to them,people who think that pants worn below yur hip are hepp,etc.i think that as people grow older they get weirder.
the bp, i'm wonderin how many times u wud have had fits??? maybe 1234567 oh. i'm clueless. might be a 100 times? jus kiddin.
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