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Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned

By Anonymous

Confession #666 (at least in a perfect universe)

Well, you got me. This is most definitely my first (and hopefully last confession), but keeping in mind that I hope to be the next Ashish Shakya (and by next I mean better looking and richer), it’s safe to assume that I’m a devout man who talks to God every night before I go to bed.

I get it, writing exams are a painful process. And when you’re an engineering student in a premier institute of the country, you’ve got nothing much to look forward to apart from a 9-to-8 IT job. A job which might pay a ton of money but is still useless since you probably can’t even approach the hot girl at the bar to buy her a drink. Stress busters are important. No, I don’t mean the perfectly innocent looking 50GBfolder marked Miscellaneous Foreign Studies. 

Lo and behold! The Facebook “Confessions” pages come to your rescue. Take your pick, there are over a gazillion confession pages for the IIT’s , NIT’s, BITS and other forgettable institutes filled with completely believable and infallible truths about pranks, sexual escapades and romantic feelings for one’s roommate/roommate’s girlfriend. Honestly, I’ve been glued to the pages myself, leading me to realize that I’m probably no better than the moronic jackasses I call my wing mates who almost drool when they came across posts like , “I was having kinky sex with my boyfriend behind the library”. Personally, I don’t believe it’s true, but kudos to aforementioned boyfriend otherwise. But true or false, we’ve once again hit upon the secret that Chetan Bhagat has so exquisitely exploited. Literotica sells, and every horny college student’s buying. Nobody really cares about the validity, but everyone’s got an opinion, and everyone’s hooked. We all want to know who’s cheating on whom, who got completely sloshed and peed all over the professor’s door and who cheated on a test.

But sometimes, more engaging than the event itself, are the discussions that follow-

Newspaper Journalist, (and believer in the one true higher power, Arindham Choudhary) – “*insert premier college name* students are changing the way we think and revolutionizing social media!”

Professor #1- “These students are a disgrace to our college and are bad mouthing this great institute where we tirelessly teach and care about our students!”

Student #1- “Screw everybody! FREEDOM OF SPEECH!! INQILAB ZINDABAD! This is the power of the youth! We shall do and say what we feel like, and shove wickets up the Australian’s asses in the next test.”

Professor #2 - “We will find these cheating rascals and rusticate them immediately! No mercy should be shown!”

Student #2 - “Anyone want to meet behind the library tonight?”

One point everyone does seem to agree on is that this occurrence is just a one-off, and people will completely forget about it soon enough. That’s about as truthful as Pawan Bansal’s assertion that the Railway Budget was made keeping in mind the needs of the common man. As long as the confessions keep coming, we’re going to open that Facebook page and look at it, because deep down, we all want them to be true. We want to believe that we’ve got the potential to be as sexually deviant as the bored individuals on the campuses trying to ‘confess’ their sins away.

The world is going to try to get back to its previous state soon. We’ll be back to bashing Dhoni for being a horrible player despite his statistics in front of us; spokespersons will tell us that India-Pakistan relations need to be mended, and hopefully the next Madrid –Man Utd match will end a lot better than the previous one did. But one thing is certain, while the number of people liking the confessions pages everyday will drop soon enough; no one is going to forget that the pages exist. For the sole reason that they are addictive, especially the week before the exams.

So unless you’re really bored and want to read about what most college students want to achieve in four years, go try and do something more important with your time. I suggest running around the streets in a white undershirt screaming “Yippi kay yay MotherF***er”, because John McClane has returned.


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