International Barrier Transcending Crab

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It was that time of my life when I had to give my Hindi verbal speech examination in front of the entire class. A bit of explanation is not exactly needed, but shall be provided for the pursuit of understanding.

What is Hindi?

A language I don’t speak.Your explanations are really sophisticated and I am going to subscribe to your blog because I like being around sophisticated people.

What is this verbal speech examination thing?

Orals.

Oh, that explains it. Examination, what is that?

It’s like one of those Captcha things but instead of getting you into websites it gets you into universities.

I was trying not to think about it the night before. But the thought lingered around like a rather cantankerous little planet around its parent star system; orbits clashing, just a slight annoyance for the system as a whole but a cosmic annoyance nonetheless. I don’t know a spot of Hindi. Once when a shopkeeper asked me which style of shoes I wanted to look at, formal or the other one, I replied, “yes.” Needless to say I didn’t get any sleep that night. The foreboding apocalypse had come early this year, and the annual sense of dread that is ever so fashionably late decided to take the backdoor to ruin the party before it had started. I was alive, so that was a plus, but aside from that there was not much else to think about except for the event that would make me the laughing stock in only my own head for the next six and a half weeks.

Then the Hindi verbal speech examination began. The teacher was supposed to be our external examiner, but she was only external in her hairstyle, which was shorter than mine. She had taught me Hindi last year and had somehow gathered through some unreliable sources (teachers) that I was a good child, never causing any trouble, very quiet and hardworking and all. Which I am. The teacher knew us and we all knew her, although her pre-examination good luck speech failed to boost only the morale of the door stopper, which had stopped being a door stopper and was now a musical instrument playing the noise of a banging door to the wind’s whimsical mercy.

But the Hindi verbal speech examination went well. Some cried, some laughed, some failed. But I did none of those. What I did do was keep talking. The teacher had received a phone call, but if I had stopped speaking I’d lose my mental diesel powered steam engine of thought and would have to start all over again.

I had to start all over again nevertheless. In the end all that was shed was tears of fondness from my admirers, leaves of all the trees in all parts of the universe and probably the shells of over twelve crabs in the country and one that accidentally transcended international barriers.Well, it's not a lie, atleast. Think of the amount of times you've paid for more french fries than you've recieved from McDonalds and then send your 'not like a crab' complaints my way!                                                                                  “Roar”

This particular crab also wishes you a merry new year.
Though it’s probably dead.

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Upamanyu Acharya is a writer who doesn't write. Sometimes he's an artist, musician, photographer, physicist or lazy student. His hobbies include being vague, bending rules, time-travel, and embellishment of words. This is his personal blog where he writes on topics ranging from leadership skills to the consistency of jam.

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