Yes recently! I have joined a B-School recently. New friends, new syllabus, new place and new subjects! With all these new things, I got a new assignment which was supposed to be submitted in 3 days. Our teams were formed and we, together had to submit it. From dawn to dusk, we worked hard on that Economics project. I worked with each and every person in the group. I didn't know how to plot a triple axis graph in excel, I learnt that day at 2 am. Our group also learnt many new things and we gave our 100% to that report. I, in my entire academic life, have never been careless towards the submission. I always submitted reports or assignments before time. Anyway, the submission day finally arrived. I had told one of the group members to print the report out and bind it and bring to the college with her. The lecture is scheduled at 2:00 pm. I called her for about 30 times asking where she was. She didn't pick up any of our calls. There she entered the lecture hall at 2:07 pm and our professor being a strict one, rejected our project. Everything was washed out. Our efforts were washed away. What was the reason of she being late? Traffic! It's simple assumption that if you stay in a city like Mumbai, you at least leave your house 11.30 hours before. Being loyal is toxic sometimes. We all lost our individual credits for the subject plus the internals will get affected which is altogether different story. Guys, if you are working for a group of members, please please respect their hard work. Put yourself in their shoes snd imagine their hard work. Never ever mix your Professional commitments with personal problems. Peace! When did the author learn how to plot a triple axis graph? - not enough information - Before the study group - After the person was late - During the study group
During the study group

The sudden burst of spring produce in the market after a long, monotonous winter of cavolo nero and bright oranges is one of the things that constantly reminds me why I love living and eating in Italy. A wander through the market like any other becomes, in spring time, a new experience. I feel like a fresh arrival, like it's my first time walking through my local market. There are long, twisty fava bean pods, waiting to be podded and munched on with bitey pecorino cheese to tame the bitterness of the raw beans. Thin, long-stemmed asparagus. A lovely array of greens, including radishes with leaves so happy that they become the main ingredient, fluffy-fronded fresh herbs and fresh garlic. Artichokes of many different kinds, but especially the pointed purple ones that are either local, from Tuscany's Maremma, or sometimes from Puglia or Sicily. Rarely the rounded globe artichokes you find spilling out of crates in Rome, or the tiny, delicate Venetian ones, the so-called castraure (though they often aren't the real deal, how you can tell is by the price) that you can find in the shadow of the Rialto. And then there are thick bunches of agretti (salsola soda), looking more like mermaid's hair than a monk's beard, their English namesake. A few years ago, this wasn't such a common sight at the market in Florence. It still isn't, in that you won't get them by the crateful like you do fava beans and artichokes, though they're not particularly difficult to find now. They're just one of those special things that don't last long. Blink and you'll miss them, or come late to the market and they could easily be sold out. It's worth getting up and out of the house a little earlier for these (a note to myself, of course). If you've never tasted agretti before, it's worth seeking out if you're in the right place at the right time and find a bunch or see it on a menu. Frances Mayes likens it to spinach, but notes that it is so much more, "While agretti has the mineral sharpness of spinach, it tastes livelier, full of the energy... What is the narrator's profession? - Food critic - Chef - not enough information - Farmer
not enough information

It's often difficult to remember how or why you became friends with someone, especially if you've been friends with a person forever. But because of the very specific set of circumstances, I remember exactly how Barend and I became friends. This, of course, was long before he became famous for inventing the easy-foldable map, and infamous for the series of bodies he'd decided to bury in his backyard. Barend and I became friends because he had one of the most attractive shadows I'd ever seen. I remember gazing out over the playground, watching a waning sun scatter its dying light over the monkey bars, the metal skeleton contrasting against the turquoise sky, when I noticed this kid coming toward me. He was one of those mostly invisible characters; faded jeans, dirty jacket, snot caked on his upper lip. I probably wouldn't have noticed him if not for his shadow. For some reason, his shadow immediately caught my eye. Now, I'm not one for noticing shadows in general, never really noticed a shadow before or since, but this kid had the most incredible shadow I'd ever seen. I cannot even put in words what that means. What specific set of properties make an ordinary shadow into an incredible one, I'm not sure anyone can, but his shadow was like a piece of art; I didn't necessarily understand it, but I liked it. And that's why this boring looking kid and I first became friends. Our kindergarten games were harmless and boring, but when puberty hit, Barend began to change. We were both expected to change, but I guess some kids just change more than others. Bared didn't want to kill at first. Like many overachievers in the death game, his first brush with the craft came about more or less accidentally. All the elements had been in place, with all the players and attributes coming together as if gathered by some evil force, but, even then, I really had to push the kid. Barend was: - handsom kid - boring looking kid - not enough information - smart kid
boring looking kid