Mutiny

About two weeks back I was running for lectures late as usual. Getting dressed takes 15 minutes when it means slipping into long shorts, rubber slippers and an old t-shirt, so sue me for not being able to motivate myself to wake up more than an hour in advance. I never brush my hair. I don’t see the point. And seriously that’s one of the best parts about campus –NOBODY CARES ... well almost nobody. Occasionally you’ll get some moronic second ‘year’r’ who’d laugh at the mismatched attire and then i’d give him the finger (if we are shape eke friends) if not I will give him finger in head – either way I’m happy at the end.
Anyway while rushing up the stairs and reminding myself that if I continue to eat like I’m 15 and convince myself that running up the campus staircase when I’m late for lectures will be sufficient to keep me healthy and happy – man was I mistaken! Half way up I’m panting like a 60 year old and envisioning myself on a hospital bed due to artery blockage. When I finally reach the top of my own lil’ Adams peak I make a sharp turn to my left and bounce down the corridor. I would say stride, dash, or skip or even leap but that would be me kidding myself. When your late for lectures in the English department the least you can do is break sweat before slamming into the lecture door so the lecturer at least can assume that you at least ‘ran’ to class. Running Baywatch style isn’t really option anyway when you have a school bag on your back. Anyway on this particular day I was bouncing as fast as I could when suddenly I slammed the breaks. My eyes (luckily) fell upon it and it made me stop and take the work of art in. There it sat pretty, in the middle of the corridor, right in front of the lecture hall in one glorious shiny, lumpy pile – doggy poop. I was amazed, shocked. Which brave canine in campus had dared to pollute the sacred English department corridor?
As I walked passed it, I walked in reverence. To some it was mere a pile of Dog poop. To me it could be compared to the dirt smudge on the pristine white wall; it was symbolic of one of the many things local campuses stood for – mutiny & rebellion. My chest filled with pride as I tried to visualize which brave canine had decided to make such a bold statement. If stinky - our English department resident dog who is also slightly mentally disturbed and was most likely a poet or ardent lover of English in previous birth, hadn’t been adopted I would have bet you anything it was her – possibly in response to locking her out of a lecturer. What can I say – the girl had spunk! Then I wondered how the dog did it. Was it done carelessly in dog-stoned moment? Or was it a pre-planned mission accomplished after dark? Or maybe it was a dare... either way no one dared to move it. It was almost sacred.
When I entered the lecture hall everyone was talking about it. I heard snippets of “can you believe it?, the nerve!!, whodda thought? Wait till one of the lecturers see” and in between little chuckles of laughter. And then the lecturer walked in with her poker face, revealing no hint of what she thought of the symbol of mutiny sitting pretty outside the lecture hall. An hour went by painfully slow and often I had visions as I usually do of running screaming out the hall and jumping off the balcony. Finally she left. I got my stuff together and went outside and all that was left of the effort of one brave dog was the sand used by a janitor to take it away...