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The Survival Guide to Results

By Shaer Duita Fish Reaz and Kazim Ibn Sadique

IT's that time of the year again. Not one most people look forward to. Results. Scared? Read on.

For a certain percentage of the student population, these few weeks of August seem to be the sweatiest ones of the summer, even if the weather isn't that hot. Most sweat and curse their way through the days preceding results day, and when the day finally comes around, they curse some more, usually at the moronic person who started all this education nonsense.

If any of this applies to you, you're a bad student. Your results are going to be horrible, period. Since this is almost confirmed, we are here to help you survive the post-apocalyptic conditions that are sure to follow after results day. Good luck

The Telling
In the good old days, people used to run off to their uncles' or aunts' places to avoid the inevitable beatings that would follow result day. We're sure you've seen the Facebook note about the girl who writes a letter to her parents informing them that she is currently on the run with her secret 30 year old chain-smoking STD-carrying biker boyfriend, only to tell them at the end of the letter that she's at a friend's house and that her report cards in the drawer and that she hopes her parents realise that there are things worse than an E in Chemistry. Considering the average health of today's parents, the medical facilities of Bangladesh and, most importantly, the state of traffic, we strongly suggest you don't follow this path unless you want to cause a heart attack and have the death of your parents on your conscience. Instead, get it over with. They'll find out sooner or later when they see your certificate. Stand up and face it! Be a wo/man!

Of course, if you decide on not saying anything, you're going to need……

Accommodations and Transportation
We recommend finding a good-sized box with a lot of foam inside. Pick a quiet corner of a street, preferably not in Dhanmondi. Before you get kicked out of your house or you storm out, grab a couple of blankets. Ask your mom to keep some clothes and innerwear washed before D-Day; you won't be able to wear clean, washed clothes for a while.

If you think that it'd be wise to not leave home, take some safety measures. Make friends with the brats you have for neighbours and convince them to give you a ride to school and coaching (if you think you want to continue your miserable educational routine) so that you won't be forced into using public buses by your parents. Also, treat them to jhalmuri once in a while and ask them to create distractions whenever there's screaming and yelling in your house.

The most important of our basic needs, one that will most certainly come under fire once the cat's out of the bag. Stock up on food at least a month before results-biscuits, chips, anything you like, unless you want to be force fed korolla bhaji for the following year. If you can't make instant noodles, you are worthless and deserve to starve. Also, learn to survive without luxuries like Coke and Fruitika.

Saw that really nice Superman t-shirt at the store today? Picked out a stunning dress you want to buy? Noticed a cute pair of earrings at Shell Design? Don't put off buying them for later. Buy them now! Tell your parents that Eid shopping should be done before Ramadan to avoid the crowds. This way, even in your miserable, starved state, you'll look trendy and cool, until of course, your unwashed clothes start to rot. The Hagu fokir look ain't that bad.

Avoid friends to whom you owe money. Avoid “friends” who like to rub in their perfect scores in your face. Sell off your cell, and live a free man. If you do need a cell phone to stay in touch with the other failures you hang around with, buy a second hand Nokia 1100. The flashlight would be useful too. Deactivate your Facebook account, or if you want to have some fun, write random hurtful comments on your smug friend's walls, then claim your account has been hacked.

Money makes the world go around. If you don't have any, you go aground. So borrow as much as you can from the most gullible of your friends. Taking advantage for the sake of survival isn't taking advantage at all. Play the lines about how they're all you've got and how good friends stand by your side in times of hardship. Save up!

If all else fails, make a genuine promise about doing better next time. Show them you're ready to get back up on your feet and get serious. Good luck.

Cricket: The Bangali Way

By Alvi Ahmed

TO the Indians, cricket is a religion. To the Pakistanis, cricket is a passion.To the English, cricket is a gentleman's game. To us Bangalis, cricket is an embarrassment. However, I am not talking about our dismal (this is a huge understatement, but our editor won't allow us to use "harsher words") performance on the field. You can get that at any local newspaper, TV channel, or any other form of the media. Heck, you can even find 'em at stupid Indian cricket shows, hosted by Mandira Bedi (the woman who stole the hearts of our rickshaw pullers) I am talking about the things our players do off the field.

The "crouching" Tigers - The first thing I would like to ask is, why are our cricketers still known as the tigers. I mean seriously, it's making us look bad. No wonder those Indian talk shows make fun of us. Something like the Tapeworms or The Tiktikis sounds a lot cooler, and such nicknames truly highlights our playing style.

Engrezi - The second thing I would like to address is, why can't none of our players speak proper English. Its not that difficult guys, just give it a try. Players like Harbajan Singh a.k.a The Turbinator, can speak fluent English, and I am pretty sure he wasn't a student of English Literature in his high school days. Its not like you guys are busy practicing, your on field performance clearly shows how hard you guys truly work. Anyone who has seen an Ashraful interview knows what I am talking about. No matter what the question is, he just keeps on repeating " I zust wants to thanks the Allah" over and over again, like a broken stereo. I am pretty sure once I heard him say that Bangladesh lost because "the field was big". Once I was watching a trademark, post match Ashraful interview with a friend of mine who lives in England, and he was ROFLing after the interview was over (seriously, he was actually rolling on the floor laughing). Another excuse our Tigers have been using ever since the day a Bangali picked up a cricket bat is *Drum roll* "amra notun team" (translation: we are a new team). It was a reasonable excuse when we truly were a new team, but our players are using it even now. Dude, it's been more than 10 freaking years, how on earth are you still "notun"? You guys have been doing the same things over and over again for more than a decade; please for the love of God start winning.

The WIN- Sorry I went a little overboard in the last paragraph, I just finished three bottles of Coke, so I am like a seven year old on a sugar rush. Anyways, do you know what happens when our Tigers somehow manage to pull off a win? All hell breaks loose. Newspapers all across the nation have the same headlines..."Go Tigers Go", "Angry Tigers bites off its opponent's head" (okay, so I made that one up, but most of these headlines are usually extremely over hyped and ridiculous). Students from public universities take to the streets and start vandalising public property and destroying everything in sight. There's the patriotic song "Desh Desh Desh amar Bangladesh" (sorry, this song is a bit too awesome to be translated) playing on every national TV channel and radio station in the country. This song also comes with an equally awesome music video, where a shirtless kid runs in slow motion waving a giant Bangladeshi flag, and this is the only thing you see on TV for five whole days. The players are given huge chunks of cash and other privileges such as endorsement deals. Just because they managed to win one game in a seven game series.

Now don't get me wrong I truly am a die-hard supporter of our cricket team. It's just that, I have had my dream of seeing our team win, crushed into tiny bite sized pieces. So let me make a promise to all my readers, the next time our beloved tigers manage to win a major tournament like the ICC World Cup, I will paint my body green and red and run the streets of Dhanmondi Road no. 6 completely naked.









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