42 … 42….

Perks of being a last bencher is that you always are under radar, it’s like living life on the edge. OK  I know I might be exaggerating a little bit but you get the point. Compared to my peers in the front bench we are a lot better at classroom bedlam.

This was a physics class, there was hardly anyone listening. We were all exchanging lunchboxes from under the benches and it seemed like a usual day until our lecturer picked one of us, it was Rg. Our sir asked him a question right from the topic that was being taught. Rg had no clue neither did anyone around. He was dumbstruck and our sir was losing his cool. Then again someone hushed “42  … 42 ….” my friend, who was made to stand up answered confidently “42, sir”. Not only was the answer wrong but also unrelated to the topic . It was chaos in the last benches, everyone was laughing hard, our sir scowled at his ignorance and gave a very condescending smile.  He left us alone to our own senses. Even today when someone is picked to answer a question we murmur “42  … 42…” just for the fun of it.

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