Its the second day of the college and I’m blankly staring at the whiteboard oblivious to the teacher standing on the platform, explaining about the nuances of being a political commentator. My attention span in the class being the same as that of a Guinea pig, I remember hearing something about biases and why we should avoid them in order to retain our objectivity. Everything else has dissolved into an abyss of nothingness that has spawned in my conscious mind, too lazy to articulate it. A projectile hits on my left earlobe and I snap back into my senses to behold a pissed teacher who now has a duster in her hand searching for a sweet spot on my long, sleepy face. After a little verbal bashing I am let off with a warning.

The amused faces of the people peeping through the window indicates that I am about to become a part of the golden pages of history, more precisely the pages of the infamous campus mag called ” The chronicles of noobs”. I have hated it even before joining college, for its reputation has preceded it through an entire Facebook page dedicated to its glory! The thought of becoming a caricature is enough to make me attentive, for a while.  Not taking any chances, I try to keep my mind from going into another boredom induced day dream. Though for a few seconds I do imagine myself in the shoes of Neo and bending backwards, dodging the pathetic duster. I mock it for being aerodynamically challenged and when I’m done humiliating it inside my mind I turn to my notebook for a better and more refined company. I had drawn a block diagram of Maslow’s pyramid of needs on it which keeps my interest for as long as I take to read it.

Amidst this depravity of any useful work, I look around, trying to get a potion of guilt arising out of the sight of dedicated and studious classmates of mine. I am almost successful when my pair of eyes meet another. Big, black, thick lashes, square, no round, arggghh 30% square and the rest a combination all the pretty shapes that I had studied in high school. And those are staring right at me. Now my mind is so worked up that my sense of geometry is in complete disarray, trying to figure out the exact shape of those eyes! With a heavily beating heart, all the expressions from my dazed body manage to rise above the neck and burst out in the form of a small smile. The world around me has disintegrated into pieces and is moving about in frames, with each one taking more time to unfold than the previous one. Is it an anomaly of space-time or a rush of serotonin, the pleasure inducing hormone that those larger than life eyes have caused? While I’m pondering over it, I realise that something else has hit me, something ecstatic not anything belonging to this mundane world. I am seeing her smile. I can see nothing but those kohl lined eyes now, gleaming like a star and myself becoming a personification of a planet that revolves around it in solitude. Unaware of the world around me and getting immersed deeper, with my chin resting on my right hand, I am caught off guard as yet another thing hits me. Shaken from my state of trance, I rub off whitish powder from my shirt near the collar. 
The duster has found its revenge.