At eight a.m. on a sunday morning, the only happy faces you see are the ones on the billboards. Also, the last thing you want to see when you arrive against all rational advice early sunday morning for a make-up class is that both campuses' gates are sealed shut and there seems to be no sign of life within. At that hour, though, there's nothing for it but to try and justify the reluctant waking up early and stick around till some other fellow-khwaar people show up. Until then, the neighbouring school's guards (industrious lot they are, too, up and about by seven A.M, even on a sunday) kept scouting around my car, perhaps suspecting I was one of those 'khatoon' car bombers there were reports about in the news. They may be good guards, but they're not too good at detective work, I can tell you.

So here I am, taking out the repressed anger on flocks of crows that seemes to enjoy prancing within five feet of where I am when someone shows up. Then another. And another. And then another, until we're a group of about nine people standing square between the two campuses, cursing the powers that be.

By nine o'clock, someone finally has the sense to attempt jumping over the main gate and fetching the guard by creating a good old racket inside the university premesis. Eventually, the guard appears, shows us a signed form stating that our class has been moved up to ten A.M, but lets us in anyway (bless you!).

What follows is the equivalent of that dream you have where you have the house to yourself and you do everything you've always wanted to do but never could because of the threat of a lurking teacher, coordinator, or even bashfulness. Hence began the gentle climbing of ledges and trees while I stand below and watch the show. Sadly, ten minutes later, and before and real damage can be done, the teacher shows up and ushers everyone into a classroom.

There's such an interesting lawless vibe that develops on sundays in a university, when there are no actual grown-ups around who wield any sort of authority and few students around to witness any acts of vandalism, threats to hang teachers upside down from trees and the law of the jungle reins supreme.

I still hate sunday classes, though.