Arte com IA: *The Bus Chronicles* M and B had seen each other around campus, but they had never really talked. That all changed when fate—or more accurately, the university's broken-down transport system (i.e., the bus)—forced them into a long, bumpy ride together. M was sitting by the window, minding his own business and watching the scenery outside. Suddenly, B let out a dramatic sigh and said, "Bhai, I think I’m going to be reprimanded for the feedback form we filled out in class for the first course that just ended!" M asked, "Why? What did you do that makes you think you'll be reprimanded?" B replied, "The rating ranged from 1 to 5, right? Poor to Excellent. Well, I thought 1 meant excellent and marked everything with a 1!" M laughed out loud and asked, "Even for your performance in Course One!?" B said slowly, "Especially for that one!" **And just like that, an unlikely yet interesting friendship was born.** The bus jerked forward suddenly, and B unknowingly hit his elbow into M's ribs. M yelled, "Oye, this isn’t a wrestling ring; it’s public transport!" B replied, "Oh, sorry! I tend to move a lot when I talk." M continued, "Okay, never mind. Let me tell you about my experience. Back in the 4th grade, I was selected as an anchor for a school event. Everything was smooth until a last-minute change was made—shifting the choir performance to before the principal’s vote of thanks. The problem was, no one told me. So, like a confident host, I invited the principal on stage. Just as he began, a teacher rushed up and ordered the choir to start singing. I stood there, a confused 9-year-old, convinced I had ruined everything. Thankfully, the teachers reassured me it wasn’t my fault. Later, the principal praised my anchoring in front of the whole school, and from then on, he always called me *Chotu*!" B said, "Oh wow, bro! You impressed the principal too! But to be honest, this was nothing compared to what I experienced." B continued, "Once in ninth grade, my friends and I finished our lunch early and were starving by the break. We convinced the guard bhaiya to let us sneak out for samosas. By the time we returned, class had resumed, but I didn’t realize it. Swinging the door open, I yelled, *'Ankit, chal khane!'* —only to be met with dead silence and the English teacher’s piercing stare. Realizing my mistake, I slowly closed the door and waited outside. After class, I handed out samosas, and all was chill again!" M wiped away his tears of laughter and said, "I was a very obedient and sincere student, until about the sixth standard. In sixth grade, I wrote nothing in my social studies notebook for the last five months, and the half-yearly examination was around the corner. Whenever my mom asked for the notebook, I told her it was in school or something. But this time, I couldn't say that because the preparation leave had already started. She caught me. She would have known earlier if I had failed in the previous two tests, but fortunately, I passed as I was good in my studies! Then she invited me to the geometric center of the house and started turning my smooth brain into a textured masterpiece; in short, she slapped me ruthlessly. And please note that my mother is not a housewife; she was an associate professor and NCC captain at that time. She drove a vehicle without power steering, which messes with your shoulder if you try to drive it; legend: *Maruti Suzuki Omni*. After a few slaps, my sisters started crying and told her to stop, saying they would help me complete my work. I didn’t cry because it was never an option. I believe if you make mistakes, you should expect punishment. And if it’s not your mistake, you should stand up for yourself. That night, both my sisters did my work despite preparing for their own tests. And that was the first and last beating I got from my parents." B said, "Good, bro! At least you remember how many times you were beaten, but I have lost count of the beatings I've received and from whom!" M said, " Also bhai, never trust toppers who say they’ll fail!" B replied, "Tell me about it! Once, a topper tricked me into bunking. He said there was no point in sitting in class anyway, as we were failing. So we just sneaked out of the class. But on the result day the whole scenario of the marksheet was different. He scored 98 out of 100 and I scored 60 out of 100. After that, when I questioned him, I thought we were failing, but he replied very nonchalantly and smugly, saying I meant you." M said with a sigh, "Lesson learned- Never bunk with a topper...." B cut him off in between saying, "Unless you want to be the only one who's failing." Just then, the bus hit a pothole, and both of them almost flew off their seats. "Bhai, is this a bus or a roller coaster ride!?" M grumbled softly so the bus driver wouldn't hear. But B, as usual, spoke loud enough for the driver to listen. "That man drives like he’s in a Fast and Furious movie! I swear he is using us to practice his stunts and riding skills." Obviously, the driver must have heard B's voice, as he dramatically slowed down at the next speed breaker, causing the whole bus to lean like a penguin in slow motion. "Sorry, bhaiya! I take back what I just said," B yelled. M replied softly, "Let's respect this man before he throws us out of this bus!" When the stop arrived and they were stepping down, B asked, "Bro, will we have to take this same bus on every trip?" M replied sarcastically, "Yeah, bro, where else in the world will we get so much free comedy and near-death experiences?" **And just like that, they became the best duo in college.**
Criado por happy sunflower
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happy sunflower
happy sunflower
*The Bus Chronicles* M and B had seen each other around campus, but they had never really talked. That all changed when fate—or more accurately, the university's broken-down transport system (i.e., the bus)—forced them into a long, bumpy ride together. M was sitting by the window, minding his own business and watching the scenery outside. Suddenly, B let out a dramatic sigh and said, "Bhai, I think I’m going to be reprimanded for the feedback form we filled out in class for the first course that just ended!" M asked, "Why? What did you do that makes you think you'll be reprimanded?" B replied, "The rating ranged from 1 to 5, right? Poor to Excellent. Well, I thought 1 meant excellent and marked everything with a 1!" M laughed out loud and asked, "Even for your performance in Course One!?" B said slowly, "Especially for that one!" **And just like that, an unlikely yet interesting friendship was born.** The bus jerked forward suddenly, and B unknowingly hit his elbow into M's ribs. M yelled, "Oye, this isn’t a wrestling ring; it’s public transport!" B replied, "Oh, sorry! I tend to move a lot when I talk." M continued, "Okay, never mind. Let me tell you about my experience. Back in the 4th grade, I was selected as an anchor for a school event. Everything was smooth until a last-minute change was made—shifting the choir performance to before the principal’s vote of thanks. The problem was, no one told me. So, like a confident host, I invited the principal on stage. Just as he began, a teacher rushed up and ordered the choir to start singing. I stood there, a confused 9-year-old, convinced I had ruined everything. Thankfully, the teachers reassured me it wasn’t my fault. Later, the principal praised my anchoring in front of the whole school, and from then on, he always called me *Chotu*!" B said, "Oh wow, bro! You impressed the principal too! But to be honest, this was nothing compared to what I experienced." B continued, "Once in ninth grade, my friends and I finished our lunch early and were starving by the break. We convinced the guard bhaiya to let us sneak out for samosas. By the time we returned, class had resumed, but I didn’t realize it. Swinging the door open, I yelled, *'Ankit, chal khane!'* —only to be met with dead silence and the English teacher’s piercing stare. Realizing my mistake, I slowly closed the door and waited outside. After class, I handed out samosas, and all was chill again!" M wiped away his tears of laughter and said, "I was a very obedient and sincere student, until about the sixth standard. In sixth grade, I wrote nothing in my social studies notebook for the last five months, and the half-yearly examination was around the corner. Whenever my mom asked for the notebook, I told her it was in school or something. But this time, I couldn't say that because the preparation leave had already started. She caught me. She would have known earlier if I had failed in the previous two tests, but fortunately, I passed as I was good in my studies! Then she invited me to the geometric center of the house and started turning my smooth brain into a textured masterpiece; in short, she slapped me ruthlessly. And please note that my mother is not a housewife; she was an associate professor and NCC captain at that time. She drove a vehicle without power steering, which messes with your shoulder if you try to drive it; legend: *Maruti Suzuki Omni*. After a few slaps, my sisters started crying and told her to stop, saying they would help me complete my work. I didn’t cry because it was never an option. I believe if you make mistakes, you should expect punishment. And if it’s not your mistake, you should stand up for yourself. That night, both my sisters did my work despite preparing for their own tests. And that was the first and last beating I got from my parents." B said, "Good, bro! At least you remember how many times you were beaten, but I have lost count of the beatings I've received and from whom!" M said, " Also bhai, never trust toppers who say they’ll fail!" B replied, "Tell me about it! Once, a topper tricked me into bunking. He said there was no point in sitting in class anyway, as we were failing. So we just sneaked out of the class. But on the result day the whole scenario of the marksheet was different. He scored 98 out of 100 and I scored 60 out of 100. After that, when I questioned him, I thought we were failing, but he replied very nonchalantly and smugly, saying I meant you." M said with a sigh, "Lesson learned- Never bunk with a topper...." B cut him off in between saying, "Unless you want to be the only one who's failing." Just then, the bus hit a pothole, and both of them almost flew off their seats. "Bhai, is this a bus or a roller coaster ride!?" M grumbled softly so the bus driver wouldn't hear. But B, as usual, spoke loud enough for the driver to listen. "That man drives like he’s in a Fast and Furious movie! I swear he is using us to practice his stunts and riding skills." Obviously, the driver must have heard B's voice, as he dramatically slowed down at the next speed breaker, causing the whole bus to lean like a penguin in slow motion. "Sorry, bhaiya! I take back what I just said," B yelled. M replied softly, "Let's respect this man before he throws us out of this bus!" When the stop arrived and they were stepping down, B asked, "Bro, will we have to take this same bus on every trip?" M replied sarcastically, "Yeah, bro, where else in the world will we get so much free comedy and near-death experiences?" **And just like that, they became the best duo in college.**
11 months ago