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8 hrs of futility

God doesn't play dice with the Universe. He plays it exclusively with me. And the damned fellow cheats with alarming regularity. Well, if I'm the Chosen One, so be it!

I was supposed to receive the original certificates I had submitted at BIT Mesra's office. I won't go into the gory details of what followed, but the harrowing experience left me feeling like a chicken being roasted alive in an oven. The erring officer(s) should be sent on a holiday tour of 100hrs to Venus. At least the jackass(es) will learn a thing or two about getting sunburnt. Thanks to his/their indifference, my journey back home has been put on hold.
Adding a cruel irony to all my miseries was a light shower in the evening that was enough to drench me and add a few grams to my denim.
I'm now soothing my frayed nerves with some Mozart over Shoutcast.

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