The wannabe photographer revved his bike. The speedometer needle pushed, and then finally crossed 90. And then, into the stillness of the highway night, he screamed
“AAAAAALL IIIIIIIIIIZZ WEEEEEEEEEELL”
And for that moment, he felt that his life wasn’t so bad after all.
The wannabe researcher pushed his cellphone into his desk drawer and banged it shut. He could hear the cellphone collide with the inside walls. And then with finality, he went out and locked his flat.
His phone rang after some time. To the beautiful tune of
“Saari umra hum, mar mar ke ji liye…”
“A good way to pretend that I am still doing research…” thought the researcher.
The confused software guy sat in front of his office PC. “Shit, WTF is the problem with the fucking memory allocation! ”
All of a sudden, despite the looming deadline, the memories of his first year in college, when he and his friends had mastered Malloc and Calloc together, came to him. And like every other memory of college, came rushing with it his friends the photographer and the researcher. And with them, their wild, free spirits and the fierce will to break free.
A song automatically came to his lips.
“Behti hawa se the wo…”
Meanwhile, the balatkari was entering IIM for another two years of non-stop balatkar.