Act I :

cassy (standing at the threshhold of that sacrosanct space of the don of all Judean times, the Head's room; earnest, serious, polite) : sir, may I come in?

don c (with all the (cor)leonine gruffness of the original Vito ) : no!

exit cassandra.

[the story is told with much anguish to the babe(l)fish who on realizing a week later that she has to visit the head for some work feels suitably petrified]

Act II :

b'fiss (standing at the same place; wide eyed innocence radiating from voice, also slight element of breathlessness) : sir, may I come in?

don c (benignly) : yes.

*b'fiss does mental dance of jubilation, steps into room, walks up to desk, ignores feeling of solidly muscular and boney knees changing to jelly like consistency and instead focuses on fluttering eyelashes to full effect*

don c (stern voice of judgement) : biye bari jachho? *off to a wedding?*

b'fiss (looks left, looks right, feeling overwhelmingly panic-stricken and mutters) : eh?

don c (raises eyebrow of stern judgement) : eto sheje guje keno?! *why are you all decked up?*

b'fiss (looks down at self, grapples to understand the import of the question, looks up at don, sinks back into stupidity in the face of eyebrow of doom and repeats) : eh?!

don c (looks fiss up and down, mutters ) : oh na, shawl-ta dekhe mone holo *no, the shawl misled me*

short while later, exit babelfish.

Thereafter had anyone been present on the corridor outside the room they would have been treated to the sight of the babelfish taking off her shawl to reveal semi-tattered jeans and fairly non-descript kurta and staring at shawl for all of five minutes.
It was a nice shawl. But there was absolutely nothing about it which suggested I was decked out for a wedding!

If anyone assumed that the Head of the Department of English at JU, like Principles of schools and Abbots of well, abbeys occupied the sort of exalted position where appointments have to be obtained well in advance to catch a glimpse of the glorious being, such an anyone would be dead off the mark. The best place to catch a glimpse of the man is at the canteen. Actually it's not quite the best place going by prevalent definitions of best, since my reaction usually is, damn, he's there, oooh, he's hot, aargh, hide fag!!! Finding him is easy. It's the next part where people generally discover that they've finally reached the top of the minaret but the stairs have mysteriously vanished. Put it simply, the don is unpredictable.

These days however gone is that look of joyful delight at the misery of hapless students and he looks merely weary of the world in general and the department in particular. So much so, that the last day I went to badger him into giving me the optional I wanted, he looked so tired and forlorn I actually just handed him the application letter and left instead of making a general nuisance of myself as I would've on other occasions. It's just that he was sitting there looking deluged with work and my instinctive reaction was to wish I could pick him up, croon over him and cuddle him for a bit and then pat him on the head and put him back.

embarrassing silence.

yes well...I know everyone who actually knows the man I speak of is probably wishing they hadn't read that last bit but that's what I felt. And there was no disrespect meant, I feel the same about my parents these days what with all the pressure they're under with the wedding in all of two weeks and the bride and groom missing and the bride's sister being utterly unhelpful. Maybe the world would just be a happier place if everyone was crooned over and patted more frequently.

In conclusion, the fiss's recipe for world peace : cuddle the world!

coming up soon *never mind how soon* : the fiss's plans for world domination and why she is better off as a super villain rather than as a super hero(ine)!