Confession - Zaklit 2014 Huh ! today it was a very tiresome day. I must say but at the same time I have some confessions to make to my reader. Recently I was a part of an event ZAKLIT 2014. It lasted three consecutive days. On the the very first day, I ushered as a volunteer and took an active part in the event. The first event was a debate competition. The topic before the house was Is India a racist country, or not ? specially representing the case of the murder of Nido Tania or whatever his name was. I was assigned the duty of time keeping and I have a firm conviction that the participant will not forget my saying Your time starts now to them. I was sitting with the clock in my hand. Every tick-tock was accompanied by the heavy bombardment of arguments that the participants made. None of them was ready to surrender. Where on one side somebody talked about literature and culture, some dealt with human behavior and perception. Finally, the bell rang, so terrorized as if to say that it was the darkest hour of our life. Simultaneously reminding the opponents that they had only one minute to finish off their argument. But some even went beyond the clock to complete their agenda. So what, I was partial to everybody. I didnt give extra time to anybody, but surely I could not stop them if anyone was going beyond time. The coordinator instructed me not to stop the contestants from speaking even if their time was over, as the jury would surely deduct marks for it. Participants came and went away but I had nothing to do with them. Although I knew some of them. I was happy for the winners and neutral for those who didnt win. What have I got to do with that. I was only worried to go to the washroom as soon as the competition gets over. It had been over an hour now that I have been sitting with myself controlling every drop that was ready to come out of my penis like molten lava. Then at last, I felt the touch of heaven, half a liter of urine had gone out of my body like anything. I went back to the seminar room where another game was to be played. It was some sort of paper presentation that was to be presented. Being the volunteer of the event for the I had to rejoin, no matter how boring it was. Though I listened quietly enough throughout the presentation, yet I must say that some of the thing went straight through my ears. When I felt myself bored, smell of hot tea and fresh samosa rejuvenated my dream. My mouth that was dry earlier, now became wet with water. The hour passed some how and I was told to inform the concerned authority of food to bring the snacks as the day itself was about to over. Everybody was hungry I was not the only volunteer there. There were some other hungry lads like roaming here and there recklessly with an identity card hanging in front of them, that stated that if there was a problem then one should not consult them rather they should go to a coordinator with their doubts. In total the volunteers were going to do the same, nobody knew everything about the events. Everybody had bits and pieces of information. So had I. The day passed very successfully and bearing a happy face, coordinators came out of the seminar hall after getting their vote of thanks. I must say that the day had a very well start, which is a very preliminary requirement for every event. There was a bengali coordinator, her name was, Shikha (imaginary name). She was the one who was leading the event. The happiest of all was Shikha. She had a very gentle smile on her face, wearing a saree maybe of silk. I dont know much about sarees and all, so I hope you understand. Her voice was of a lioness like a true patriot and she had a very gentle face and was kind to me and to others. I had my samosa and tea in hand, so others had. I could see groups in every corner of the corridor, I was like an exo-communicated member of the tribe, standing alone eager to join a group, but the monopoly had been so strong that an individual competitor was shouldered very easily. A special guest had come to join the seminar, she was standing with the person who had won first prize in the competition. She was an old lady with a caring face, but I must commend her experience which was far greater than my knowledge. Why not ? after all she had a very good teaching experience and is a professor of one of the best colleges of Delhi University, but Yes, I will not name her, because I not quite sure whether she will allow me to do it or not ? She was congratulating the winner for his excellent approach in the critique of his subject. So I stood near her and she lovingly accepted me. I think she wanted me join her conversation and take down some points that may help me in future. As I moved inside the hall to ask the coordinator of the event, if I could render any help before going ? So she pointed out that the hall has to be absolutely clean, in order to do that I should look around, on the table, beneath the chair whether it was all neat or some absent minded person had forgot his or her artifact. I picked up the half eaten samosas with all the ketch-up spread on it and threw it in the dustbin. There were some left samosas too, that had not been touched by anybody so she asked me that if I wanted to have some more, I could probably take it. For an instance I felt shy, but then I heard a sound into by stomach. As if my stomach was angry at me, casting all types of slurs for not considering his view, it was empty and I was feeling hungry. ( Comment : You will soon get the full story and I will tell you the reason of my confession)
Posted on: Thu, 06 Mar 2014 07:07:54 +0000
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