My group of ten, named 'The IIMC Times', rather unimaginatively, I must add, were all pumped up for the day. There were deadlines to be respected, reports to be edited, and newsprints to be taken out.
Thus started our stressful day over endless cups of coffee and cigarettes. (I must add that I settled for Coffee). I was the only one on my team who could design. "Technosexual", like someone put it. And it ain't easy working when an angry mob of 9 breathes down your neck, making suggestions and critically analysing every aspect of journal. The journal, that is a key to getting good placements in the months to come.
Every point met with a counterpoint. It wasn't exactly bliss. Layout design is thankless labour, any designer would agree. As the deadline drew closer, tempers rose and fists clenched. I wanted to rip the remaining hair of someone's bald head off. I do believe that the feeling was mutual. This is when a non-smoker really feels the need to fag. Coffee is so 9th grade.
Meanwhile, The Herald, The Exress and The Mail, all beat the deadlines and were out with their copies. We were the last to submit. But one look at all those journals made me believe that haste had made waste. The Times was late. But damn... it looked so much better!
This is what it looks like. I was suitably impressed. And nobody in the team had any problems with it. However, the prints were delayed. Which was kinda heartbreaking, considering we all wanted to get the feel of our journals in our hands, before we left for our respective hometowns. It wasn't to be. Our college, at the end of the day, is a sarkari office run by the Ministry of I&B.
And then rang those words of a senior, whom I met in July: "The Director here is an SOB!!!"
Now I see why.