The Awesome Foursome and the Frog Prince

“Dips, what is this?!”

“What is what?” 

“How did the Frog Prince get in here?!”


It seemed as if it were meant to be.

Projects were allotted in the first week of term, and Spectacle-Chewer always wanted group work. And since no one knew anyone (or so he thought), he allotted groups too. So there it was, a list of topics, each with four names under it, complete with roll numbers next to them. 

Minty stood beside the last bench, trying to work up the courage to go look at the list. There seemed to be about twenty people, each double her own size, clustering around the notice board. And then she noticed Chutku emerging from the group, her hair more disorderly than usual, clutching a notebook. “I’ve got my group”, she announced to the world at large, putting her owl-glasses back in place. “Am I in it?”, Minty asked hopefully. “No – it’s roll number wise. 1, 11, 21, 31 – or some such thing!” said BB, coming up beside Minty. Dips joined the three of them as they made their way back to their seats; “Hey, Minty, we’re in the same group! 6, 16, 46 and 56. You are 16, right?”

Thus it was that three weeks ago, Minty and Dips had begun their common mission, their quest, something that was to bind them together, join them at the hip for the rest of their law school lives. The LM Project. 


Minty woke up, yawned, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Or tried to. But sleep seemed to have turned into some yellow gooey stuff that was gluing her eyelids together. She stumbled her way to the bathroom, rubbing  her eyes and cursing under her breath. Her eyes were red. “Bloodshot”, she thought. “Well, what did I expect? I should never have let Dips talk me into working late last night!” She splashed water on her face and went to wake Dips. “Look what you’ve done now!” she said, pushing open the door of the room. Finding no one there, she padded back to her room, bumping into the Surly Senior Next Door.

“Eww! Look where you’re going! And what’s wrong with your f***ing eyes?” said SSND.

“Slept late.”

“How late? You were asleep when I came in at eleven! Are you sure it isn’t conjunctivitis?” 


Two hours later, the doctor had confirmed that it was, and there was now a “Conjunctivitis Tap” at the washbasin, a “Conjunctivitis Loo” and a “Conjunctivitis Bathroom”, and Minty was receiving instructions to use only those and no others.

“And when you go to the mess, use your own plate and spoon, and use a clean kerchief to pick up the ‘phone.”



“What do you mean, okay? We have to submit in three days! We are supposed to meet tomorrow with our individual rough drafts!” Dips was on the verge of yelling, till she realized Minty was as upset as her. “I suppose there’s nothing we can do”, she sighed.  

“Actually, you should ask for an extension” said Chutku, plonking herself two steps down, as the girls waited on the stairs outside the mess for BB to join them for dinner.  

“An extension? You mean… of the deadline? You think we can get one?”

“Of course you can! You have the perfect reason!”


But of course, since this is not a fairy-tale (and since if it were, he might well be an ogre), Spectacle Chewer just looked over the top of his spectacles and said, “Well, you can submit your part late, Minty, but I don’t see why the others can’t submit on time!” and dimpled away before she got up the guts to argue. 


“What does he mean, anyway, he can’t see? If he kept his bloody glasses on his nose instead of trying to eat them up, he’d be able to see something! How can he expect us to submit without your part, Minty? Didn’t he say he wanted one project?” Dips was actually yelling now, not caring who heard her.

A huge tear rolled down Minty’s nose. “I want to go home!” she sniffed. “I’m sick, they won’t let me into the acad block, I found a frog in my shoe this morning, and now HE WON’T GIVE ME AN EXTENSION!”

“Chill out, you guys. We’ll do it. Instead of meeting this evening, we’ll meet tomorrow with each of our drafts, and fair it out at night, and then we can do the ToC and intro and stuff the day after tomorrow, if we bunk class, and still submit on time. Don’t you agree?” Peacemaker turned, obviously expecting support from the other male member of the group. 



And so it was that the four met the next evening, with three drafts. Yes, three, because “whatever” apparently didn’t mean “okay”.   “Okay, don’t start yelling. There’s no point to it. Dips, you start fairing out the other drafts, and I’ll write something for him tonight.” Poor Mr. Peacemaker. “We’ll have to fair that bit tomorrow, then. Minty, can you do the intro, Research Metho and other frills tonight?” 


So, here they were, an hour before submission. They’d taken over one of the make-out benches. Papers lay on the bench in two neat piles on either side of Minty – the ones she’d finished proofreading, and the ones she was yet to read. The others sat on the ground in front of her, Peacemaker drawing borders to the text on the finished pages, and the Other One writing “Defamation” in intricate handwriting in the centre of a white sheet.  

“Dips, what is this?!”

“What is what?”

“How did the Frog Prince get in here?!”


“Dips, look at me. Till what time did you work last night?”

“I don’t know. I fell asleep working.”

“What did you dream of?”

“Some silly stuff…you mean … ??!” 

And Chutku and BB, to this day, don’t know why 6, 16, 46 and 56 laughed so hard when they asked whether they’d managed to submit their project on time.  


6 Responses

  1. Frog Prince in a Law Project!
    Now that must be a first 😀 …

  2. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!! Now we sit back and see who wins the five stars!

  3. I think it can certify it was, Kunal!

    Baud, how many times are you going to leave the same comment?

  4. Such innocuous and boring stories. What about stories of betrayal and pain and indignation? They exist, don’t they?

  5. I only tell those to people I know, Observer!

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