On Random Misadventure No.2: The One Where I Get Beat Up by the Police in a Demonstration

University is a tumultous time for all of us . Most of my education in university occurred outside of classroom doors. How to drop from a top student to failing and barely making it in one lousy semester with too many card games and second-hand smoking, how to not get into fights involving cleaner men or short, brown people(that's a whole other story that will be told in due time) and how to not get too hot and heavy on politics.

It was a gloomy day. The situation in the West Bank was as it commonly is; abysmal and it reflected on the campus. Faces were a mixture of anger and sadness, helplessness intertwined with meagreness. Ahmad and I emerged sleepy-headed confused about what the hell was the last lecture about. Something involving computers for sure..

Before I go on with this magnificent story, let me introduce Ahmad first.

Ahmad is one of the most fascinating characters I ever met. (Probably No.4 on my Most Fascinating People list) Simply put, he is the laziest person on earth. He finds shortcuts to everything, even conversation and body language. Words slurred out of him, and you feel an irrevocable drowsiness overcoming you when you talk to him. When I remember Ahmad, I see him shuffling around campus, back heavily hunched, his denim bag slanted behind his back, eyes half-drooped in an Eeyore-like demeanor.

I absolutely loved him.

He was every reason for me to not work hard in my studies. Competing with him was so easy that I didn't have to worry even if I never unwrapped the books. I once got a 2 out of 25 in an assessment exam, and I looked back at him, knowing full well that for the first time, Ahmad has actually beat me.

Ahmad , God bless him, managed to accumulate a striking 1. The look of slow shock precipitating on his face was utterly priceless.

So, me, Ahmad and another 2 girls come out of the lecture. We were planning on doing a presentation to redeem our sourly low marks. It would be about HTML. Me and Ahmad thought it would be a cool idea if we marched in with plain white shirts with one letter out of the markup language imprinted on it.I would wear an "H", Ahmad a "T" the 2 sisters an "M" and "L" . Then we would do the YMCA dance, but on HTML of course..

[Insert late 70's disco scene, men with large afros and untrimmed mustaches, with unbuttoned shirts revealing hairy chests dancing with petite blondes on a dancefloor with a disco ball revloving, reflecting red, green, blue and yellow light circles everywhere..]

Doctor..
I said Doctor..
Are you listening to me?
I said Doctor..
This is as good as it can be..
It's fun to code with H.....T.....M.....L. .....
It's fun to code with H.....T.....M.....L. .....
It's a programming language where you can build websites..
That's why we're doing a presentation on H......T......M.....L......
H.....T.....M.....L. .....

The girls strongly disagreed.

While we were heatedly disputing the hand movements projecting an "H", an engineering dude shows up. The engineering people were fun to hang out with, the black bags under their eyes reminded us of how little we needed to work in life. Of course they now own villas with a view on the sea, while we live with 20 indian room-mates in a studio in Al-Ain.

Engineering dude: There's a demonstration for supporting Palestine at 12 o'clock, we need you guys to show up.
Me (Looking at Ahmad, who was dozing off while he stood, then back at the engineering dude): Sure! We'll be there..
Ahmad (snapping out of it): Whaaaaa...??

The rest of the story will be continued in due course, stay tuned for On Random Misadventure No 2: The One Where I Get Beat Up by the Police in a Demonstration Part 2