The
Davisson-Germer Experiment was performed by Davisson and Germer in the late 1950s on a lonely night, cold and frigid, in the
warmth of their bed. But the after-effects still last as another Chemistry Compree has desecrated my hopes of scoring an 8.5+.
That's that.
Today on this very blog, I'll dictate to you my dear reader, a few important events in my near life. It goes like this.
It was a good Wednesday evening. I had written my first Bitsian Test, Biology Test I. I thought I had fared superly worse, but much to my delight, all my test scores henceforth were worser than this one.To remember exactly I had scored 43 out of 60, and the average was 38. Since it was a Wednesday and I had a night-out that early morning, I went to sleep. Still shaken by the traumas of the introductions with my seniors at college, I was pleasurably sleeping calmly for the first time in a month.
By about 4:30, a shrouded image comes in front of my window. It orders, "TP, get to the audi, NOW."
Lets name that person A: Mr A whose name closely resembles mine, had asked me my introduction only a week ago. He wasn't rude like the rest of the others, but i could sense a touch of evil. I just could smell that something was amiss and our meeting had more devilish purpose. He kept pestering me over many a stupid question like asking me why I believed in Global Warming? He kept on telling me that it was a myth propagated by Al Gore (maybe because he just spends too much time on Uncyclopaedia).
Back to the action. Tired and frustated of these intermittent calls for intro, and also of the fear injected into me in a 'pacca' ceremonial way, I dragged my slumbering body half-awake to the Auditorium assuring myself that more torture will not kill me.
So I just end up there in the Audi for induction ceremony I suppose, because they that is Mr. V, Mr. A and Mr. R were constantly reassuring me that the job wasn't taxing enough, and that I was assured a decent place and a wider friend's circle. Dumb as a duck i was blinded by the falsities (though whatever they said was actually true), I agreed to join and so I met up with the two other apprentices, Mr. S and Mr. P
I was ceremoniously inducted.
Then somebody comes with idea of TP going up the GHODA.
The ghoda now is a 15 feet tall ladder which has rollers on the bottom. it is used for fixing up things high up on the stage. It has a chair on the top and the user has to either sit or stand on it while somebody pushes or pulls from the bottom.
So eager to make my first impression that I am a good and efficient worker, despite of my altophobia, I rush up the ghoda nad sit on the top. It really didn't feel that bad.
But then it was Mr. A, I distinctly remember who suddenly started rushing and running the ghoda through all possible co-ordiantes on the stage. the world was like a huge roller-coaster except that I was on top of it and no SAFETY BELT.
During the course of the adrenalin pumped motions, Mr. A pulled me back from one end of the stage to its centre. Then that happened what hadn't happened in 4 decades. The ghoda slanted and it fell, with me on top of it, hanging on desperately for the sake of my precioussss life.
As passerbys, on-lookers and eye-witnesses reported, the huge thing fell like a mammoth. I fell off it on to the solid granite floor. I still hadn't realised what happened. i had asked Mr. A to stop doing the madness that he was doing. But then as seniors say,
SENIORS ARE ALWAYS RIGHT;
JUNIORS ARE ALWAYS WRONG;
IN CASE OF ANY CONFUSION, REFER TO THE ABOVE
TWO.
My cries went in wain, as I fell like a
fallen angel from the troubled skies in the flash of an eye.
It might be because the
Devil thought that it wasn't time enough to call me to
Hell, or because I sold my soul to the
Him; I survived.
It was near-fatal. If I had fallen by a few more degrees difference, I would have ended up either with sure paralysis or Death.
They said I was reciting the Frank-Codon Principle or something and that I was doing "OOOOOOO" when I fell. But what i distinctly remember is that I asked Mr. A to five me his right arm,
"B**T , give me your right arm".
A broken wrist is a major problem, as experience has taught me.
(1) You can't study properly as the pain is overwhelming.(2) The casing causes itches and you learn to be patient.
(3) YOU CAN NOT WASH YOUR ASS AFTER YOU SHIT.(4) YOU CAN NOT USE YOUR RIGHT HAND TO EAT.
(5) You need to suffer sympathies.(6) You can't sit in the Lecture Theatre Complex without straining yourself.(7) Bathing becomes a once-in-a- while activity.(8) You stink.
(9) The next time they remove your cast for recasting, your hand looks dangerously shrivelled and you fall unconcious.(10) If you do not fall unconcious the people at Birla Sarvajanik Hospital will make sure you fall asleep as they administer lethal injections of sedative drugs.(11) You feel jealous of all those who have no broken arms.(12) You want to take revenge but can't do anything about it.
(14) You feel sad.But all that has taught me a few lessons, which I'll carry forward in my life. So to Mr. A no hard feelings. :-D
From the
Fall Guy
