Creative writing competition.

Notice:

This is to inform all you lazy buggers that i shall be holding a creative writing competition in the class on the 13th of dec. The essay or poem has to be no less than one hundred and fifty words.
Participation is compulsory. I'm giving assignment marks based on this.
The competition will be in English, since i teach you English.

Time allotted : 1 hr(s). A lot more if you make too many grammatical errors because i'm not bothering to correct them. You will have to.

(Signed)
Mrs. Sood.



This was put up on my class notice board on the 10th of dec., one week before the pre-boards. Not that anybody really gave a rats behind about the pre-boards, but this creative thing was scary. The mere thought of sitting down in front of that great big moth of an English teacher Sood was beyond horrifying, but writing something right out of your head is too hard for us simple hindi speking peeples.

Well we really didnt have a choice now did we? So we hauled ourselves into class and sat down still wondering about what abysmal topic she would come up with for her personal viewing pleasure.

And so as i was borrowing a pen from my mate, El Soodo came along to my desk and plopped a sheet of paper on it. When i saw the topic i was...well.....confused at first...and then really confused.

It said (in such horrible handwriting that i could have mistaken it for tiny ants......figures) :

Q. Write about "The Good Old days" in not less than 200 words.



The good old days?.....The good OLD days??!

What was i supposed to write? Huh? huh? I imagined myself going upto the teacher and asking her "Hey is this your idea of a joke? I dont have dentures OR a hip replacement. I'm not a pensioner! The good OLD days? Why dont i write about my grandchildren while i'm at it?"

Rehkhfsk......thats the first thing i wrote in my attempt to make some sense. Oh god this was brilliant! The girls seemed to have compiled a report on the good old days in their mushroomed heads and were scribbling away with rare abandon. I took a peek at one, hoping to cheat my way out of this rut. She'd used words like 'Procrastination', which i thought was a really disgusting form of castration, and 'Quondam' which i believed was condom, misspelt.

I was getting restless. It was upto me and my weak English to put something readable together. I took one final look around for some form of inspiration. I found none. Just me buddy laughing at his sheet of paper. I asked him what the joke was. He handed me his paper, still guffawing like a donkey.

When i read his "essay" i couldnt help but laugh. It said "In the gud old days, there waz very little work done when light was gone because of monsoon rain. So my mother always sent me to bazaar to buy candles. I took umbrella to avoid to get wet. Then i bought candles and came back. The end."

Le magnifique. It was all very clear now. I took the Add Gel Zero gravity pen in my right hand and began. I stopped only after the bell rang.

To my shock and wonder and awe and other synonyms for amazement, i'd won the third prize!
My mother was very proud. My English teacher hit a car and died. Well, not really. She was shocked too.

My friends and relatives asked me how i managed to do that. I told them i wrote about an old man who sat on his porch smoking his pipe all day, reciting fantastic events about the World War II and how he single handedly fought through a German Panzer division and killed every one of the Krauts and used the tanks to drive the injured British back to Nice where they were stationed. I guess i was really convincing because my friends believed that it was my grandpa i wrote about. Well, i might have led them on a bit because i used to boast about my great grandfather having fought for the British in the colonial wars. I told them they named a city in Rwanda after my great grand-daddy.

So after this incident i have been confident about my powers over the English language. Of course i still dont compare such greats as Yeats, Shelley, Lord Byron, the Bard and Ishita Ghosh with my lowly self.

I leave you with a little thing that one of my college friends wrote at a creative writing competition at school. We'll call him M_ for now. His topic was something about overcoming language barriers and reaching out. He has left an indelible impression upon my psyche, as i'm sure many others, with his deep, thought provoking words.

"One dog met another on the street:
Woof woof woof, ruff ruff
woof woof woof.

Other dog: Woof woof, bark bark bark
Ruff, woof, bark.

Pack of dogs (in harmony):
Woof woof woof woof,
Ow ow ow ow, yipe.

And so, man strives to break barriers. But, some barriers are not meant to be broken.
Thank you."

Kudos M_ !