From the archives! :)

I just found this - something i wrote almost 7 years ago! :) For The Statesman. :)
kinda juvenile but fun!
JUST SHARING!!!!
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IT'S 8 a.m. Lovely winter morning. Nice chilly breeze. Birds chirping. And the sound of something fluttering — little winged things in my tummy. It's going to be my first debate! At an inter-college fest!! As a judge!!!

My very supportive colleagues had given me very encouraging words of advice. "Don't make the mistake of wearing tight jeans. They may takeyou to be a participant," said one. Thank you so much. If it wasn't for you, I would have turned up in hot pants, you know! "Walk tall. With your height they'll probably miss you." Don't worry,I'll take steroid shots just to look like the "right type" of judge. "God, you look so childish. Please act serious and mature," came another magic mantra. 'ACT' mature? I may be puny but do I look like aclown??? (I DO NOT expect an answer to that.)

Anyway, I decided eventually to put my trust in the collective heads of my colleagues. So back to that fine chilly morning.

There I was, dressed in a sober saree, wearing a pair of four-inchheels, and trying to keep as straight a face as possible for a25-year-old greenhorn on the judging scene. I was so tense I could hear the Mission Impossible tune playing in my head. It took me awhile to realise that it was my cell phone ringing. "Ma'am, we'recalling on behalf of IAM. Sorry, we're a little late ma'am. We'll be picking you up in 15 minutes ma'am," said a voice on the phone. Did he actually say 'ma'am'? Hmm. I was beginning to like it. At the venue, the'ma'am this…' and 'ma'am that…' shots kept giving me the boost I needed for my shaky morale. I was introduced to the moderator for the debate, Indranil Bose, professor of political science at St. Xavier's.

As we discussed the modalities of marking the participants, he mentioned something about the organisers having requested him to judgetoo. I jumped at the idea (I could have begged!). And he — my knight-in-shining armour for the day — agreed to judge the event along with me.

The motion — religion is the opium of the masses — was a cliché, though it couldn't have been more relevant with the BJP sweeping theGujarat polls just the previous day. The speakers were an enthusiastic bunch. The competition was close. I had begun to savour my off-stage, but higher grounds, position. I thought of my college days when I used to think that judges were complete nitwits and was sure I could show them how to do it. Finally when I tallied my sheet with Indranil's I saw that I had done it right. The winners were chosen unanimously. I was almost tempted to ask: "Anything more you want me to judge?" But thankfully before Icould make a grinning jenny ass of myself, I was asked to give away the prizes. Ah! now, that I had done before — when I was 13 and had organised a dance competition for younger kids in the verandah of a shutdown flat. As prizes I had given away cute little perfume vials whacked from my mom's make-up box. I almost got given away to a correctional home for that.

As I drove home that afternoon I was feeling a couple of inches taller even without my heels. But only till I got to office that evening. I just abour stepped in and I heard "Ki re natu, judge-judge khele eli? (Hey shorty! Played the judging game?)"
Colleagues — always happy to bring you down to earth.
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