Chemistry-Why it's been my life's only mystery...
This is my first attempt at an actual sizeable post, and I chose Chemistry as my victim, obviously because I can talk (blog) at length about it .(I mean, how can anybody actually like the subject??!!) Well it’s not about the subject, more about how I listen to the lecture. So here I go!
Just before class begins, all the boys are out on the corridor. That they rush in is a sign that the lecturer has arrived. I apologise heavily to my friend Sweta, who, I must say, works on it a bit, and shift to the last bench. More out of habit than interest I extract my notebook from the depths of my bag and drop it on the desk. Now the lecture begins, and my mind says goodbye to me and my eyes, obediently and promptly turn to the window.
Well, nothing there, so I am rudely reminded of my ma’s words (she keeps telling me that I should top the class, and what’s more, she’s found a place in my brain and there are times she takes over even when there are nice things to see outside the window) and I turn balefully back to stare at the lecturer. Some of the words sink in, but not for long. This particular lecturer is pretty famous for the soporific power of his lectures. But being the guilt-driven person that I have cultivated myself to be, I rub my eyes and plant my elbows hard onto the desk. The resulting bang wakens some of the normal students and I silently assure myself that Sir is thanking me!
That was just five minutes into the lecture. If you want to know the actual contents of the
lecture, I suggest you get in touch with Sweta. Read on for my version of events.
“…thus we derive the Clapeyron equation. Now take down a problem on it.” Uh oh, where’s my pen gone?? Ah, there it is. I pick it up and proceed with taking down the question. It is shortly followed by the answer from, you guessed it, Sweta. I manage to solve it quickly enough. Then disaster. I spot a spider scooting along the side of my desk. Spiders scare the daylights out of me. But I manage to stifle a yelp and slide smoothly to the other side of the desk. Thank God no one’s sharing the desk, or they would have screamed…..okay, I just might have.
Ten minutes and a couple of problems later, I start feeling I’ve done too much work and the lecturer thankfully starts another topic. Some of the boys in the back bench try valiantly, rather, out of compulsion to create a diversion and this time they’re lucky. Well it’s actually because I’m getting tired of typing….So, the lecturer gets a bit angry and starts off on his second-favourite topic: discipline. We patiently wait for him to be done, and my stomach grumbles loudly(I thank God again that no one’s sitting next to me!), and at last, after what seems…uh..five minutes, it’s time for lunch, and I sigh with relief at the glorious sight of the lecturer’s shiny head exiting the class.
Thasit. I'm yet to think up my next class.
Just before class begins, all the boys are out on the corridor. That they rush in is a sign that the lecturer has arrived. I apologise heavily to my friend Sweta, who, I must say, works on it a bit, and shift to the last bench. More out of habit than interest I extract my notebook from the depths of my bag and drop it on the desk. Now the lecture begins, and my mind says goodbye to me and my eyes, obediently and promptly turn to the window.
Well, nothing there, so I am rudely reminded of my ma’s words (she keeps telling me that I should top the class, and what’s more, she’s found a place in my brain and there are times she takes over even when there are nice things to see outside the window) and I turn balefully back to stare at the lecturer. Some of the words sink in, but not for long. This particular lecturer is pretty famous for the soporific power of his lectures. But being the guilt-driven person that I have cultivated myself to be, I rub my eyes and plant my elbows hard onto the desk. The resulting bang wakens some of the normal students and I silently assure myself that Sir is thanking me!
That was just five minutes into the lecture. If you want to know the actual contents of the
lecture, I suggest you get in touch with Sweta. Read on for my version of events.
“…thus we derive the Clapeyron equation. Now take down a problem on it.” Uh oh, where’s my pen gone?? Ah, there it is. I pick it up and proceed with taking down the question. It is shortly followed by the answer from, you guessed it, Sweta. I manage to solve it quickly enough. Then disaster. I spot a spider scooting along the side of my desk. Spiders scare the daylights out of me. But I manage to stifle a yelp and slide smoothly to the other side of the desk. Thank God no one’s sharing the desk, or they would have screamed…..okay, I just might have.
Ten minutes and a couple of problems later, I start feeling I’ve done too much work and the lecturer thankfully starts another topic. Some of the boys in the back bench try valiantly, rather, out of compulsion to create a diversion and this time they’re lucky. Well it’s actually because I’m getting tired of typing….So, the lecturer gets a bit angry and starts off on his second-favourite topic: discipline. We patiently wait for him to be done, and my stomach grumbles loudly(I thank God again that no one’s sitting next to me!), and at last, after what seems…uh..five minutes, it’s time for lunch, and I sigh with relief at the glorious sight of the lecturer’s shiny head exiting the class.
Thasit. I'm yet to think up my next class.
posted by anusha at 6:35 AM
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