‘Mass Bunk’ has come to become an oft-repeated term derived from the collegiate lexicon. Most of us are found muttering the words to ourselves, each time the teacher gets just a tad off schedule. With me, it usually starts as whispering to myself followed by a more intense groan-the result of a group of enterprising students gathering courage to shout it out loud-and the till-then dormant mob of a class alights together, out of the classroom, exulting that common sense...uh-oh...common sentiment rather, prevailed- A spectacle not unseen.
‘Mass Bunk’. Funny eh?
No Kidding. Where does it gather its roots from? I mean, we lads in hostels are actually on a perpetual ‘mass-bunk’ (Three out of four years, sob!), though feminine participation is encouraged only in the former context. It is common observation that ‘Chalo yaar! Mass Bunk’ is greeted with more enthusiasm than the chorus ‘Good-Morning Sir’, which sadly lacks the weight it should carry.
Did I say ‘sadly’? Duh!
And now, mass bunk takes an alternate shape this Durga Puja, and I’m looking forward to being back in Delhi, where I’m most probably going to be 24/7/7 online, just a click (or maybe a dozen more) from anyone who gives anirudhjay@gmail.com a damn.
Anyways, mass hysteria is not what I’d ‘compare’ these bunks with. Both are differently one and the same!-Juxtaposed to one another. What say you?
After a seventy day continuum of NIT Warangal, let the student get a break from the monotony of linearity, and be left to indulge in whatever he/she might deem satiable to his/her creativity, or maybe just go sipping away the evening tea with mum, dad, bhai, behen in the veranda...
Reminds me of Ozzy Osborne’s song:
‘Mass Bunk’. Funny eh?
No Kidding. Where does it gather its roots from? I mean, we lads in hostels are actually on a perpetual ‘mass-bunk’ (Three out of four years, sob!), though feminine participation is encouraged only in the former context. It is common observation that ‘Chalo yaar! Mass Bunk’ is greeted with more enthusiasm than the chorus ‘Good-Morning Sir’, which sadly lacks the weight it should carry.
Did I say ‘sadly’? Duh!
And now, mass bunk takes an alternate shape this Durga Puja, and I’m looking forward to being back in Delhi, where I’m most probably going to be 24/7/7 online, just a click (or maybe a dozen more) from anyone who gives anirudhjay@gmail.com a damn.
Anyways, mass hysteria is not what I’d ‘compare’ these bunks with. Both are differently one and the same!-Juxtaposed to one another. What say you?
After a seventy day continuum of NIT Warangal, let the student get a break from the monotony of linearity, and be left to indulge in whatever he/she might deem satiable to his/her creativity, or maybe just go sipping away the evening tea with mum, dad, bhai, behen in the veranda...
Reminds me of Ozzy Osborne’s song:
Times have changed, and times are strange,
Here I come, and I ain’t the same...
Mama I’m coming home!
Here I come, and I ain’t the same...
Mama I’m coming home!
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