psychology

"Boring boring boring" This famous statement defines any class. It zoomed in my mind like a ticker on mtv,repeating itself over and over again.

Its just the beginning of summer and I'm already sweating like I ran a 20 km marathon,which is absolutely impossible by the way,but the heat is getting on my nerves ,making me irritable and scary. F and I trudge towards the most boring class of the day-psychology. Sleepy and barely awake we enter the dimly lit class and make ourselves comfortable in the last bench which was abandoned,surprisingly and inviting.

With a vacant expression I stare at our teacher who was quite animatedly and enthusiastically teaching us
" behavioural aspects" in her mallu accent,which is really funny. I try not to laugh and concentrate on drawing a circle. F beside me cracks up loudly and  imitates her,I started giggling too,helplessly.


After a while I tune out the teachers voice and check my phone for something to do,while F listens to the teacher giving her "normal examples" (stud macha examples). My mind wanders and I remember my marks card,I pull it out and stare at my atrocious marks. From being an 80 percent-er I've stooped low to....never mind.
Insulted and determined to study I look up at the teacher and gaze at the notes cast on the wall by the projector. I squint and try to focus but its all just a blur. Giving up I remind myself that I need binoculars not spectacles and slip into a world of dreams waiting to be woken up by the loud shrill bell.