The lost Calculator Story!!

Hello, I am the infamous IIMK lost calculator. And this is my story.

I am one of the most mailed about stuff on IIMK mail server. A lot of guys have been barred from accessing the campus dc++ servers for sending mails asking about whereabouts of me and my brothers.

I was born in a Casio factory in China. Unaware of where my destiny will take me, I was happy to be alive and kicking in the land of yellow people. I secretly wished that I would land up somewhere like on a cashier’s table at a non-computer savvy casino at Las Vegas, so that I could “peek-a-boo” few strippers or do some cool analytical/financial calculations. But then I saw the wretched carton I was to be put into. It read “XXXXXXXXX, India”

Now I had heard horrifying stories about the calculators who went there and were lost, either in a dark corner in a middle class home or beneath old books in a student’s room. Devoid of any sunlight, they were forced to slow painful death and that too with a long wait. There was a hope that someday somebody would find them. But the hope never saw the dawn.

I reached India, within next 48 hours. And while I couldn’t exactly figure out, where I was headed, I knew it was somewhere further south. I could find out that because as I moved, the rate of speech of people handling my carton increased.
Then on one fine day, the carton was opened. I didn’t expect India to be as cool as it was there. Within two days I found myself to be handed over to my real owner, one who paid 500 bucks for my capabilities. I came to know I was in what they call- “God’s own Kampus”

The same day, I saw some calculators getting a white sticker on their backside mentioning their owner’s name and some number. I guess humans too have batch numbers like us. One of my kind remarked- “Now I would never be lost. Yuppie!”. Suddenly all my fears rolled in front of my LCD panel. I wished hard; please stick one at my arse too. I don’t want to get lost like few of my forefathers. But my owner was perhaps too lazy. He brought me to his room and put me in his bag.

My dream of Las Vegas was never going to be realised now. If at all this moron went there, why would he take me with him. This conclusion wasn’t a very long drawn one. As I went to all the lectures with him, zipped inside the front pouch, the guy never needed my assistance. Either he had some vedic mathematics techniques. Now if he didn’t need me calculate all those IRR, NPV, standard deviations, he must would be way too sharp to use me to calculate how much he earned at that LV casino. (Although now from my experience I can say, probably he conveniently chose to relax or copy from his nerdy neighbour.

The one day, suddenly I was pulled out from the bag and taken to the classroom. I realised it was some Manac quiz. But all the poor guy could do was to insult me by making me do simple additions. Rest of time he spent in asking all around in hushed voice- “4th question ka answer bata bhai”

I was so bored with my master that for the first time in my life I wanted to be lost far away from him. Then one fateful day while the guy was dozing off, I heard sounds of “Do you have a cal C?”. Gradually the voice came nearer and finally came into the room. My owner replied in his sleep- “Bag ke andar hoga bhai..utha le” . He never cared to see who he was giving me to.

My new master was a genius. He made me do all the fancy stuff viz. solve equations, matrix calculations, logarithmic functions and what not. It made my day when this bailee (yeah I went through some Business Lectures too!) of mine forgot who he bailed it from.

I later on found that he had lost his cal c in similar manner and now that he found me and couldn’t recollect who I really belonged to, he made up his mind to own me. Finally I was rechristened by that white sticker and I knew couldn’t be lost again.
I shared joys of my honour and was proud of myself when he got great term grades. I thought now he would always keep with him. Some fellows asked him for a treat. We went to college canteen and I was put on the side edge bar along with a copy. While I stood there enjoying everybody jump over the ordered food, I never imagined a unknowingly push from someone’s elbow would make me fall down from first floor of the canteen.

I was hurt but still in my senses. I waited there for someone to pick me up. But I had landed in a seemingly obstructed space where nobody saw me.

So here I am, writing my story with whatever cell life remaining with me. The sun rays never reach here. I did get wet on many occasions when it rained. I may be old and wrecked but I haven’t given up. The hope survives, the hope of getting a newer better owner, who would keep better care of me. I know she (yeah! I too crave for a female touch and for the matter of fact they care better) is somewhere out there….