23rd December , a day to remember, well yes that my sweetys birthday, but 23rd December /06, a day when more than 250 Demons Devils Lucifers n all the Trite Souls, with a silent scream were thrown in a magic lamp for the next 5years..."Hopefully” Magic lamp, sounds interesting honey? Try sniffing it. The reek of stale sweat in lecture theatres, the stench of dissection hall, the putrid cadavers, fetor of formalin, malodour of autopsy rooms, and not to forget the stink of the septic ally cleansed operation theatres. A ton of detoxifier and internal deodoriser fail to reverse the cataclysm in your goose honking respiratory tracts. Still loving it? Viola! Another Kemcolian discovered!

First year starts with the Hippocratic Oath, and at one clause, no doubt, you start smelling hypocrisy "we shall treat our colleagues as brothers and sisters." The incarcerates are then shunted for the group photo n on their way back many get nipped by the much dreaded carnivores for ragging, and the harassment includes, ump yea, playing ring-a-roses around some preys, taking grubstakes from others, or just 3 4 beasts holding a beauty and forcing her to guess their names. And it’s not really difficult to diagnose who’s the fool is this scene, its only then you realize the real definition of fooling...
Old definition: a form of abuse on newcomers
New definition: a plaudit for the newcomers...one day you would be like us.

And the fooling sessions at hostels, what final year sees in maternity ward, the poor souls were asked to evince, dolour à l'accouchement. Ah, let me just censor it. No doubt the thralling authorities, played the best haze...the moron look in that maroon uniform dupattas n blazers.

The grind begins with the 1st substage, only viva passed, thanks to the very courteous examiner, but harbingered a series of failures. Half prepared physiology tests, unprepared biochemistry assessments n prepared yet unrecalled anatomies, the rueful story continues in the 2nd year as well. 3rd year comes with the sour pharma, bloody forensics n eye straining microscopic pathologies. But the colourful internal assessment card, with lots of rubricals and a tinge of black presented every time at the final viva, throat drying to me, n mercy-invoking to the examiner, surely does the play.

Prepared to be gritted, slain, and decayed, the voyager continues, while the journey, silently yet intentionally polishing him.
K.E, life sucks here, it cries, it strives, it suffocates, but finally, it respires.
From soil sprouts a delicate plantlet, unable to sustain itself, but nurtured here.., nurtured to stand and nurtured to exist.

Yes, another Kemcolian manufactured.