It has no utility.....Sir!!!

With Bangalore lanes and by lanes becoming more crowed with every passing day, the only road which I enjoy taking often is the 'memory lane'. After much consideration I have unearthed a general trend, that - among all the times when I go for a long drive into the 'memory lane', my office hours happen to give me the most fulfilling experiences. Taking into consideration this general trend, and in my search of whether this happens to be a general law applicable for every human being, am in the extensive process of testing this general trend, and so indulging in it often, but strictly for testing purposes.
In one such 'Test Case' scenario, when I was driving past my primary school, I found it was all decked up for the Annual Exhibition that was taking place then. I remembered of a very tragic incident which happened in that exhibition, and that’s the reason why this particular event, among all the numerous events that took place in our school, was etched in my 'memory lane' as a speed-breaker.
I was then in standard four or maybe five...don’t remember exactly. It was an exhibition which had seen me participating in a number of events. My solo participation included in the 'Physics' department, where I had built a Windmill. That was how it was officially. Unofficially, it was totally the brainchild of my brother. The whole model consisted of a Windmill, and a hut in which a bulb glowed, as Windmill rotated.
My other project happened to be in 'History'. Where 11 people came together to make Harappa-Mohenjo-Daro Civilizations come to life. We brought mud from the Ganges, which happened to be nearby, and made a mess of the area which was allocated to us for that purpose. Some people came up with the brilliant idea of burning the whole model, so that it will get an authentic look, but our teachers sensed where we were heading to, and threw us out of the arena.
People poured in the next afternoon, mostly relatives of the students, who took part in the exhibition. They were really impressed seeing their lads come up with wonderful science projects. Everybody was in praise of my model, and thought me as a good contender for the first slot. I on my part explained to anybody and everybody who passed by, regardless whether they showed an interest in my model - "Windmill....air flows....rotates.....wind energy....electricity generated....look inside hut....bulb glows" - this followed a broad smile, reflecting a sense of achievement. Hours passed, until it was evening. Suddenly news came in that the judges had arrived. They had a car break down on-way, and that made them late. Anyways, I prepared to take them on, with all the confidence that I had gathered from the numerous praises that I got for my model earlier.
Finally, the judges arrived. Actually, he was only one person. With a lean frame, spectacled, and having a shining bald head, having traces of past flowing hairs on them, he looked every bit the person, whom I would not at least associate with being a judge. He had a frowning face, probably because of the car breakdown. I summoned every bit of confidence that I had gather throughout the day and repeated the well rehearsed lines. He looked a tad impressed. I was in the mood of repeating my lines once more, but saw him intently gazing at the model. So I stopped, and gave them their moment of privacy. Then he looked up to me, and asked, "What is its utility?” UTILITY!!! The bomb was dropped! I hadn’t heard the term before. I searched all through my brain, what that term meant, but could come up with none. I looked here and there but could find nobody who could provide me with the answer. I looked at the judge, who was looking at me then, with an expectant face. In my desperation to answer, I blurted out, "It has no utility...Sir!” He looked horrified at my answer. He stared at me with the intense concentration, which I had only once found in the eyes of my Biology teacher, when she was studying the model of a dinosaur which we had found while on a visit to Science City. Then slowly and steadily, he moved on, his face still that of a person who had just survived a storm.
That year, I still won a prize. Better, we won a prize. It was for the Harappa-Mohenjo-Daro model that we created.
It's another story that we hardly had any contenders up there.