And the vote of thanks.....

Ever since I read Right Ho,Jeeves I've always felt that Bertram Wooster was a man after my own heart.Yes its all very dashed nice of you to say that "Golly,even I feel the same way!"....But there's such a thing as reliving the trauma of someone that truly lets you to identify with that someone.I'm a person who's had many incidents that would make you say,"Ah...the wretched kid..".But I've always borne them in my mind with manly indifference that said"Ah well...a fellow can't have it all smooth."Today, however, all those incidents seemed to be trifle funny little comical moments that everyone has a right to have and then have a whack of a time telling it to the others.
If you're presently whiling away your precious time at the G.D.Birla C.F.E(mark you,its a good school...they just make you feel like you're whiling away your time)or you have a close friend who's doing so(Don't warn him against it...he's doing the right sensible thing)you might have heard that Feb1 was class 12's farewell day.Golly well,thats a load off their heads and chest and what-not(the teachers and the students,pea-brain),you'd think and how right you would be.You couldn't be more correct if you said that two plus two makes four(does it,though?I've never been sure).So cutting to the c,there was a big bash party to egg the seniors into the poopy world.
There were performances where,I regret to say,most of my friends went off their rockers and did very un-sober stuff like walking the ramp and screaming their heads off while pretending to sing songs and playing air-guitars(Ayan's guitar wasn't working...sorry Ayan,but you were always a senseless git).But not me!Uh-UH!!! you wouldn't catch me in that sort of revelry.I was nicely siting at the back thoroughly occcupied watching a bird on a tree.But then all disaster struck when our english teacher came tippie-toe(honestly,I didn't hear her coming with my hound-like ears) and tapped me on my shoulder and very nicely upset my bird-watching.She said,"Sohham,you're doing the vote of thanks".Now,don't get me wrong...I absolutely adore the lady for her kind and frank disposition towards my somewhat inane friends.But right then, my mind hit a brick wall and was wondering if her's had met with a similarly frightful end.I mean,vote of thanks?My friends will tell you that Sohham has nerves of tempered steel and is dashed ready enough for anything like getting the weekend grocery or heading to the larder to nick food.Macbeth couldn't do better.But this vote of thanks seemed a bit too much even for my steely nerves.
"But,dash it all! I can't do that vote thing!I'm not even old enought to vote!",I said after thinking that it might be a good arguement...but she,I mean the dear english teacher,didn't quite follow my lines."Nonsense!Make yourself of some use and do it for god's sake!No one else is free for it."..This allusion to the fact that there were others before me who had been offered the daunting task hurt me,but I let it go allowing it on her frantic nature that day."But I have stage-fright and I've never done this sort of thing before!!",I argued.She said,"Do it,won't you Sohham?If you don't do it,then we will be in an aweful fix." Kind heart that I was,I decided to take mercy on this blighted lady,dear to my heart and said,"Fine.But I need to write down this vote-thing...whatever it is." But there seemed to be a bit of good luck shining down on me when she said that the speech had been written down.I just had to read the bally lines and ...I don't know...give the mic to the sail or anchor or whatever you call those blighted people.
So I headed off to find the teacher who had my speech written down.On seeing her,I realized that god had committed a grave mistake by giving such a pair of peircing eyes to a person who was neither an empire-builder nor a traffic police.But you have to make allowances judging by the poor oaf's schedule(I mean god's schedule).On reading the speech,I nearly gasped out.The teacher's handwriting suggested that her hubby or her son or her gardener or her cook or her maid or her driver or all of them had been sorely trying the lady's nerves for a month.My hear twent out to her and I said,"Ofcourse I'll read the speech,only if you could,er..um....,help me read it." On reading the thing it turned out to be nothing but a harmless acknowledgement speech saying 'if it hadn't been for Mr.so-so...this entire event couldn't have taken place'..only thing, there turned out to be quite a few Mr.so-sos.
So there I was,spending all day trying out the speech in a million different accents and tones.I kept thinking "If it were done,when 'tis done,then 'twere well It were done quickly" till someone came and told me that there was only half an hour till my speech.Now,the more I considered the event of my speech,the more I seemed to share my friend's view that I was a bit thick.How on earth was I supposed to deliver a speech?Sure,Chuchill could do it..but could Churchill run for two miles,could Churchill jump higher than a foot off the ground,that fat oaf?Quite a soup I had landed myself in.
I had caught the fright to such an extent that I even considered eating up the speech and falling sick.But I realized that would be very unlike me and such an action would terribly hurt my friends who feel that if you don't make planes out of paper,then you ruin the paper.So I decided to bite the bullet and go on with it.Five minutes to go,I headed down to the stage,looking perhaps a tad too forlorn. I saw that everyone had had too much of seeing my friends dance on their heads and were raring to go home.As flashes of my life flickered across my vision,I heard a teacher screaming into the microphone asking everyone to stay quiet while ickle-Sohham made his rummy speech.When I walked onto the stage,I realized that there was literally an ocean of girls(G.D.B. does tend to swarm with girls) sitting in front of me looking like packs of hungry hyenas.All signs of humanity were lost.They looked ready to rip me apart from limb to limb.What wouldn't I give for a gallon of the good ol' scotch to swash my insides sloshing against the back of my teeth.But, no whiskey,as luck would have it.So I tried the bally words into the microphone,"So I hope you all..".My voice was drowned in the howling that ensued.Why?I still have no clue.But there was howling and what a howling that was!I tell you,it would have put professional hyenas to shame.I gasped.My mouth ran dry.A girl in the front row leered at me.Then finishing off the rest off my speech at a speed that would make Eminem seem to sing old jazz.Conscious every moment that I was making an ass of myself,I decided to finish my speech with eyes closed.As soon as I felt my parched mouth utter the last word of the cursed speech,I made a run for the exit,heedless of the kind voice that kept telling me that I'd forgotten my food packet.