How I Met Your Mother- The True Story

The Year 2012.

Kids, remember how seven years ago I had started telling you the story of How I Met Your Mother. Remember, how I started narrating the story with such enthusiasm. Remember how I told you about the escapades of my awesome group. Well, so the thing is I had no idea that there was a hidden camera in our living room and the footage was being siphoned away by CBS and being telecast on international television! So much for all the privacy brouhaha they create!

So anyway, this one day your Uncle Barney Stinson who happens to be 'awesome' happened to be on a business trip to India and realised that 15 year olds there have begun speaking like him. He happened to stop by an ice cream shop at Marine Drive and saw these young adults exclaiming how 'Legend-wait-for-it-and I hope you are not lactose intolerant-dary' the chilli ice cream was. Then he saw those shopowner bros freeze frame hi5-ing each other. And since we all know how AWESOME he is at sleuthing, he figured out the cause for rise of this phenomenon. There apparently exists this website called Piratebay which has all the latest torrents and it has apparently displeased those phoren DVD vendors outside all local train stations. Infact, highly places sources in our government have confirmed on the condition of anonymity that they are the ones who had infact petitioned for the SOPA/PIPA Act. Now Barney, being the shrewd businessman that he is struck a deal with the channel and well this is how I pay for your school since my career as an architect is really going nowhere.

In the meanwhile, your Aunt Lily and Uncle Marshall started getting jealous of our success. Your Uncle Marshall is as unsure as a dead duck as to whether he wants to be a corporate lawyer or an environment crusader. I heard from this law student in Mumbai, that she can relate to Marshall very well. It's almost as if it's the story of her life. Um, strictly the professional part, of course. So I decided to convolute the story a bit and present to the world as to how miserably you will fail as both a corp lawyer and an environment crusader and how eventually, you will have to live off your wife's salary which she makes as a kindergarten teacher. But as long as you have friends who will reserve a booth for you at your favourite watering hole and pay for your beers and stand by you no matter what, it's cool!

Then comes Aunt Robin. Now Aunt Robin is only a pseudo-friend you see. You already know who your mother is. Yes, the woman who screams at you every morning for you not cleaning your room, having your cereal et al. They brought her all the way from Canada just to bring a pretty face to the show, so that once those 15 year olds turn into 18 year and 22 year olds, they still continue to watch the show. And then they forced me to say things such as I proposed to her and this and that, which I vehemently deny but you see for TRPs you have to go the distance. And then when they saw that the TRPs were declining, they introduced a shrink of Indian origin. These Indians I tell you, all you need to do to keep them happy is flatter them via these home videos with subtitles. The CIA is doing their job alright.

And to think of it, they are a bunch of buffoons. I have told them repeatedly as to How I Met Your Mother. They already know about the yellow umbrella and how she was there in my class which was not mine. Are they waiting for a face? Like they say in Mumbai, so I've heard, itna paisa mein itnaich milenga!

psst: I also hear there's some woman called Ekta Kapoor who wants to remake the show and call it Kkkkaahaani Mummy Kii.

Because there are some memories money can't buy...

Disclaimer: This is not a mushy story. It's to do with the jinx that keeps coming back from time to time just like the "Blitz" on the last episode of How I Met Your Mother. For those who don't know please Google the synopsis of HIMYM S06E10. Except that the Blitz missed everything exciting whereas I have to face unpleasantly, disappointingly hilarious situations.

And DON'T think of completing the title with "For everything else there's Mastercard." :\

The ordeal started with my entry into the third year of the five year law course. Now I haven't had any lawyerly inclinations ever and consider myself to be a major accidental entrant in Law School which partly also has to do with my College but let's leave that story for a different day. Actually, if you need details about that please do speak to me about it. I'm constantly looking for people who are willing to lend an ear to my sob story and vendetta.

So, as I was saying my entry into the third year of the five year law course meant that I am supposed to be writing Law Examinations set and marked by the University which is another unfortunate story. It'll be fortunate if the University sticks to its reputation of scoring papers by virtue of the number of inked pages and not content wise. Let's keep our fingers crossed.

Now I happened to list Andheri as my first choice for the Exam Centre hoping to get a centre in either Bandra or Vile Parle. I was later enlightened that Bandra falls under Dadar and how that works is a mystery in itself. So, I was assigned Nalanda Law College in Gorai. I had never known that a place like that ever existed. Turns out it's near Essel World.

So on finally reaching this place after a 45 minute car ride on the Western Express Highway which was nothing short of a roller coaster ride at an amusement park (owing to the driver's flair for running the car at speeds ranging between 60 and 80), I had a slight inkling that this place which is supposedly in the middle of nowhere would definitely surprise me. It did. In a bad way. A really bad way.

This extremely narrow lane led to a huge campus with rusted basketball hoops and backboards and a carpet of ankle high wild grass and a generous pattern of wild itch-inducing wild flowers frequented by swarms of Mosquitoes and other assorted varieties of insects. The imposing cement structure stared down at me and I stared back, dreading to enter what seemed like the set of an Aahat like show or a Ramsay Brothers' horror flick. The building lacked flooring. My heart skipped a beat. Then I stared at the makeshift blackboard which was actually only a piece of slate mounted onto the wall. My roll number entitled me to write the exam on the 5th floor which entitled me to climb five floors. As I searched for Room No. IX on the 5th Floor, I witnessed scores of people trying to imprint the Mokals and the Jhabvalas in their grey matter. For those who are not aware, Mokals and Jhabs are like lifelines on Kaun Banega Crorepati. They seldom help but they do calm your pre exam frayed nerves. A regular law student would consider Ratanlal and Dhirajlal or Avtar Singh or the likes as their Bible but not true for law students of Mumbai University. Mr. Mokal and Mr. Jhabvala are our saviours.

I finally managed to reach my classroom and deciphered my desk which was nothing short of cracking an advanced code on account of 3 different seat numbers written on each desk. After giving much thought to whether my jeans would indirectly functions as a duster for the benches if I plonk myself on it, I thought que sera sera and decided to devote the 15 minutes I had to Industrial Employment (Standing Orders). I noticed a drop of water on my book and then another only to realise that it was not water but sweat. There was no electricity. Then after 15 minutes, I heard the fan creak and the tubelights flicker as if they've been woken from a deep slumber and very reluctantly agreed to be diffuse the light.

At 10:30 a.m a frail 5ft something lady with an ashen face entered the room and announced that everyone was supposed to keep their reading material aside and it was time. We did as asked to. After that came the longest 15 minutes of my life. The question papers hadn't arrived! My mind started playing tricks. There was a complete mash up of Industrial Disputes Act, MRTU and PULP Act, Workmen's Compensation Act and Industrial Employment (Standing Orders). What I never understood was why so many acts have different definitions for the same term. Then came the shortest 3 hours of my life. The paper ended in a flash. My carpal bones, extensor digitalis longus and extensor digitalis lateralis muscles were strained, my thumb indented and my head hurt. Little did I know this ordeal was to continue for four more days.

The second paper was Contracts. I was assigned a classroom which overlooked the Vipasana Pagoda near Essel World. This did not help in attaining any peace of mind though. Homeopathy did. It was more of a placebo, I think. Then during the exam one poor girl's desk gave way which warranted some unexpected entertainment for the rest of us. Little did we know, that every millisecond is precious. The Contracts paper met with the same fate as the Labour Law paper: Well begun is half done.

Paper number three was Torts and Consumer protection; one of the more interesting subjects. However, the genius who designed the time table allotted just one day before a 250+75 page long subject. This meant trying to cram up precisely 24 hours before the exam- the way we've been brought up. It was of no avail. A 4 hour nap turned perilous for the impending paper. I forgot Rylands v Fletcher, Reed v Lyons and several other case laws. I hope the University sticks to it's policy of blind correction.

The only silver lining was the Legal Language paper. It ended on a good note though I'm still keeping my fingers crossed, keeping in mind the reputation of the University.

My ordeal had ended.I wouldn't have to pay a visit to a cheap replica of the Harappan ruins anymore.

Before the exams began, I thought they would end in a jiffy but that was not to be. Those 10 days seemed like 10 years. I pity my Engineering and Medical counterparts. The sad news however is that I have 2 and a half more years to go which includes 5 semester exams.

My point is, “Why waste time learning, when ignorance is instantaneous?”-Calvin

ps-The image shown is for illustrative purposes only. Also, pictures are deceptive.