Pensieve 2.0

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Thursday evening was pleasant. I was back from office early that day and was planning on going out. I decided to take an auto. I walked the small distance through the alley where my apartment was. My muscles were spraining; I should walk more often. I reached the main road. Oddly enough, it wore a deserted look. The velvety brown of the evening sky was already fading into the blue silhouette of the moonlight.
There were no vehicles or human beings, or even dogs (There will at least be 3 stray dogs per street in Bangalore) in sight.
‘Oh dear, will I have to walk till Airport Road now to get an auto?‘, my lazy legs complained and my mind translated it to English.
I uttered a non-verbal spell (well! I didn’t utter in strict sense since it was non-verbal) to summon an auto. Even I was surprised to see an auto coming almost immediately behind me. I waved to him to stop. He didn’t seem to notice and passed me. Then the auto screeched to a halt about 10 feet ahead. I ran towards the auto.
The driver had a frightened look in his face. He looked at me, then looked down towards my feet, then again looked at me.
I too looked at my own feet, just by instinct. What was wrong with my feet?
‘Elli hogbeku saar?’, (Where to, sir?) he asked, anxiety resonating in every syllable that came out.
‘KR Puram’
‘I’ll go through the main road, is it okay?’
‘Okay’, I replied, not understanding what he meant by the last statement. I didn’t know of any shortcuts or alleys to my destination.

I got in and he started moving. He didn’t speak anything till we reached 100ft road. The looming silence instantly changed into ear-shattering din. I heard something like a gasp of relief coming from the driver.

He turned his head when we had stopped at a traffic signal and asked something like, “Kannada maathadubeka?” (Do you speak Kannada?)
I understood what he meant and replied, “Kannada gothilla” (I don’t know Kannada)
“Hindi?”
“Oh. Hindi is okay”
[ Rest of the conversation was in Hindi, mostly a monologue. Translated to English. Everything in italics is whatever I thought, but didn’t say. ]
Driver: I almost escaped from that ghost today.
Me: What?
Driver: A ghost. She asked me for a ride. Said she will pay 200 rupees. Scared the shit out of me.
Me: *Oh really?*
Driver: She came in a car, said she wanted to go to ***** (I didn’t get the name of the place when he said it.) Offered to pay anything. These lady ghosts…once they enter our body, they will never leave us. Ask us all sorts of things. They won’t go until you die. You will be doomed.
Me: *Duh*
Driver: I just mustered enough courage to say No and get the hell out of there.
Me: Oh. Was that why you were driving so fast?
Driver: Obviously….She wanted to take me to a deserted place and possess me. After that, I would have no control over myself. I’ll lose my family and kids and will have to go after her. She won’t let me enjoy family life as I would have to satisfy her always.
Me: *[Evil grin]* You looked at my feet.
Driver: I was checking whether you were human; whether you had feet.
Me: Hehe. *Muhahahaha*
Driver: No sir, I was so freaked out. Really. In my village, we take special amulets and all from the priest. We are safe there. But there are no such safety precautions here in city.
Me: *All ghosts migrated to cities now. Yeah, I can see*
Driver: I think she was a Muslim ghost. That makes it even more difficult.
Me: Why so?
Driver: Because Hindu mantras won’t work on Muslim ghosts. You need Muslim mantras from Quran for those.
Me: *Boy! This is getting better and better*
Me: What did she look like? Was she wearing white saree?
Driver: I don’t know. She came in a car. Her hair was loose and wildly bushy. Her face was white.
Me: You mean fair skin?
Driver: No sir. It was white color. Like white paint was smeared. Only her eyes were brown.
Me: And she was driving a car.
Driver: Yes.

I suddenly remembered the ghost from the movie “The Ring”. Then the thought suddenly hit me squarely in my mind..like a 10-pin strike. It might just have been some ordinary lady who was careless enough to go out without removing her facial. The poor lady was mistaken for a ghost! Imagine her perplexed face when the driver had sped from her at breakneck speed!
Hell of a ghost story for me!!

---

I didn’t speak much for the rest of the journey. He was saying something, I just kept replying “Mm.Hmm”,”I see” etc. idly without listening to what he was saying.

We reached my destination. I checked the meter and gave him the money.
“One and a half meter charge, sir”
*Bloody hell! This guy had the nerves to ask for more money even in this condition.*
I argued, “What is the extra half for? Your ghost story?”

Well. I did!
But looking back, I have to take it back. I see I can write. (Some people don’t like it because it’s not poetry in the right sense. But what the heck! That’s the maximum I can do!)

Here’s a snippet of one of my old posts. You’ll see the complete post here.

…The panda, as if reading my mind, started…

Why worry about the name of the dame,
When you still don’t know the name of the game,
You are lame coz you can’t take aim,
The guns, you can’t blame, it will be a big shame,
Why go after the dame who came,
When I am there, who’s so tame,
You’ll get it all the same,
And ‘t will be your claim to fame.

Then, without warning, he jumped on me. He clutched me tight however I tried to get rid of him. Even now he’s clutching me from my side. I say, “You’re not a Koala, you’re a Panda, Goddamnit!!”
Oh dear!!!

What happened to the quest of the stone??

Away went broken, the dame
And as she went, she proclaimed,
I will avenge you, O my flame!
The stone she found is now critically acclaimed!!
I lost the stone and the fame and the dame,
And I got an idiot who says he’s tame.

Technological progress has merely provided with more efficient means for going backwards.

- Aldous Huxley

Well! I don’t really know who this Aldous Huxley is. Being the literal person that I am, let me try to guess “literally” from the words of wisdom he has spoken above.

1. Aldous Huxley is a professor of an engineering school

I had this doubt from an incident which involved my going backwards (literally) due to some technology.

My regular seat in class was in the front row near the main door. Before you think otherwise, I was not a nerd. The front bench on the side row had many advantages. The lecturer would watch out for potential law-breakers only on the back benches. You are literally free to do anything noiseless in front seats. For instance, sleeping (you shouldn’t snore though!!), playing Hangman. Besides, I had a good view of outside. Another advantage was the chance of sneaking out of the class when the lecturer turns toward the board.

All was well until one fine day, my physics professor announced that he would be making use of the OHP (Over-head Projector) from that day. On the day it was brought, I was in a mood to listen to the class. But alas! my bench was too much to the side that I was not able to see the projection because of the reflection from the window. (Technically, Total Internal Reflection!!)
As a result of that, I had to shift my place. As there was no other seat upfront, I had to go to the back seat.

I believe that a similar incident might have occured in Huxley’s class and he might have uttered the great words on that occassion.
Wasn’t it a technologically advanced way of going backwards?

This theory is enforced by the fact that ALDOUS may be an abbreviation of A Laughable Dimwit Of an Undergraduate School

2. Aldous is a professional swimmer of the Australian Team

The year was 2000. The Olympics was around the corner. Then the Australians came up with a special suit which would cover your entire body from neck to ankle. It would provide better streamlining, they said. Their swimmers would be able to swim faster with that costume, they said.
Well, this guy Aldous was a backstroke swimmer. The day he swam for the first time with the costume, he broke his personal record. After climbing back, he might have uttered those words of wisdom.
Obviously, it was a technologically efficient way of going backwards (or swimming backwards)
I have an abbreviation for this theory too…
Australian Lad Dedicated for Outrageously Uber-Swimmer

3. Aldous is a brilliant but eccentric scientist

This theory suggests that Aldous invented a device which I call the third eye. He probably got the idea from The Matrix, because the third eye was a CCD lens coupled into your brain, which would directly communicate with your brain. So it would serve the purpose of an eye, hence the name.

He successfully did the surgical procedure in his own head because no one was ready to be a guinea pig. (How would any one, knowing that it was Aldous the eccentric at the other end??)
How it was done is a mystery.

Aldous was probably eccentric because he did some silly mistakes (which he didn’t consider mistakes, BTW) in the procedure. The first mistake was that he implanted the third eye on the back of his head a la The Matrix. The second one was that the third eye would become functional only if both his real eyes are closed, because he believed that the third eye is a substitute for the real eyes and should always work when the real eyes don’t work. (He probably didn’t know the difference between “always” and “only”)

Now the problem started occuring because Aldous had the habit of sleepwalking. So, after the procedure and he went for sleep, he started sleepwalking. But since his eyes were closed, his third eye became functional. And since it was in the back of his head, he started walking backwards, thinking that he was walking forward.

This is how technology provided him with a means of going backward.

Oh! I have an acronym ready for this too. This was said by his Linux-geek neighbor, who made a recursive acronym as usual, when he saw Aldous walking backwards outside his house and was nearing a puddle of water.
Aldous Look Down Otherwise U‘ll Slip

Note: Aldous Huxley is a famous writer and is consider a leader of modern thought. I know very well who Huxley is, and the above post is solely for entertainment. The quote was a real quote made by Huxley, but what followed was made up by yours truly.

It was hell.
He couldn’t get a moment of peaceful solitude, because the mosquito was humming in his ears. Why does the mosquito always hum in your ears? How does it know where human ears are? Why does it hold this grudge to humans? A million unanswered questions.

He never knew about how annoying mosquitos could be until he visited Cochin. Of course, he had heard about the dreaded diseases like Malaria, but this experience was downright annoying… There was no other word for it.

The mosquitoes of Cochin were very smart. They knew how to live even in adverse situations. They had adapted to the growing threats that they faced. He realised that from the moment he landed in the bus station. He looked up, and saw a rain cloud in what otherwise was a clear blue sky. Rain cloud in the middle of summer? That was impossible. He looked up again. The cloud was nearing him. He suddenly was reminded of the artificially intelligent nanoparticles in Michael Crichton’s Prey. Then it happened. The cloud hit him like someone throwing several pebbles at him. He struggled and wiggled, but to no avail. The number of mosquitoes in that cloud would have exceeded the number of soldiers in the erstwhile Roman empire. He was enclosed in the cloud of mosquitoes until he reached near a garbage dump. Then they left him in search of a new victim. Talk about mosquitoes which hate garbage dumps. But as he recalled, the Cochin mosquitoes were different.

He finally reached his relative’s house. Inside he was feeling a bit suffocated and went towards the windows to open them.
NOOOOOOOO!!!!
Came the scream from everyone else in the house.
“Don’t open the windows unless you want to stay awake all night”

“What is it with the mosquitoes here? I’ve heard Cochin mosquitoes are unbearable; and had a first hand experience today too”
His relative started his epic monologue about Cochin mosquitoes…

Mosquitoes here are unique. They have adapted to the different condition here. They no longer travel in battalions; they travel in armies. There is nothing that can be done about it. In fact, the notoriety of these mosquitoes is so much that one can write a ballad.

Mosquitoes have given partial relief to the huge unemployment problem of the Cochin people. Nowadays people always will have one job — scratching their backs to get rid of that annoying itch caused by mosquito bites.
Even the tiger is afraid that it might be deprived of it’s National Animal status because of the mosquitoes.

Rashid, the lad who stays across the street had a nasty experience once. He was sleeping when he dreamt that he was checking his weight. His weight initially showed 70kg, then it came down, and down, and down until he was almost as light as a feather. Then he dreamt that he was flying; flying over the terrace. He was doing backstroke swimming in the air. Then somebody nipped him in his hand. He woke up, startled. But he was in for another shock when he realised that it was not a dream, he was indeed flying. A cloud of mosquitoes had lifted him over his bed, out through the balcony and all the way up to the terrace.

Chacko, our neighbor tried the latest Mortein mosquito repellent; the so called “Yama(God of death) of mosquitoes”. He plugged the repellent to the socket, only to hear a high-pitched, almost satirical comment from behind. “Thanks for the repellent, dude. We just love it’s smell.” The cloud was speaking!!!

So on went the epic until he fell asleep. It was then that the solitary skeeter came to disturb him. After sending in the army, was this the commando? Anyway, solitary mosquitoes seemed to be more annoying than the cloud. Just because they seemed to bite at places which were unreachable (by the hand), and at particularly difficult places to scratch, like the bare side of his feet. And they intimidated him with their pesky hum near his ears. They seemed to be very talented in evading his capture.

But he was not going to give up easily. After several minutes of grueling duel, he finally got a chance. The mosquito came and sat in his left arm. He waited until the mosquito burrowed it’s ugly snout to suck his blood. If that was done, he would get that extra time to kill it. He waited and waited, but the mosquito still seemed only to intimidate him. Finally, after what seemed to be an hour, it plunged it’s nose deep to sample his blood. Then he took his right hand and in a lightning fast move, slapped hard on his arm. Blood splattered. The mosquito was dead and was squashed beyond recognition.

He nonchalantly shoved off the dead mosquito from his arm. With a cruel satisfaction, he fell asleep again. He only hoped that Maneka Gandhi won’t sue him for the cold-blooded murder.

Note:
1. Thanks to Nadirsha, the parody singer for inspiring this post by one of his songs.
2. No mosquitoes were harmed in writing this post.

The moment I landed in US, the song “Swapnathilo njangal swargathilo” came to my mind.

For non-mallus, this is a song from the third movie in a comedy trilogy where the heroes land in US for investigating a case. That they solved their cases only by goof ups and some luck, is another story. The song translates to “Are we in a dream? Or are we in heaven?”

Little did I know that I would end up with a truckload of trouble like the protagonists.

#1
On day 1, I went with my cousin to a Restaurant. After lunch, I asked the waiter, “I want the bill back after you swipe my card.”
He just stared at me like I was talking Greek.
My cousin then corrected, “He’s talking about the check.”
“Oh..Alright.”, said the waiter.

“What the hell is a check?”, I asked my cousin after the waiter was gone.
“It is called check in restaurants here. Bill in US means…”
“Currency Notes. Awww. Shit!”, my realisation was audible.

#2
As we were going out of the hotel, a group of people were also exiting ahead of us. The last person of that group held the door open for me. But I was so absentminded that I didn’t notice that and simply went out as if there was no door there at all.

He looked at me in a disgusted manner.

My cousin corrected me again. I should hold the door as I exit. That is the way to return the courtesy here.

#3
This one too was related with open doors. Some of you already know that I have trouble with doors.
This time I failed to keep the door open as I was going through. And there was a lady right behind me.
As soon as she came out, she shouted at me, “Heyyy! You slammed the door right on my nauuuuse!!!” (Spelling of nose changed deliberately to show how she uttered that!)
I thought, “WTF? She should be careful. It’s not my fault.”, but didn’t say anything. Not even a sorry.

#4
I came to know that people are so possessive and money-minded here through a funny incident. I had gone to my friend’s house and we were just having an “epilogue” chat near my car as I was leaving. I just leaned onto the adjacent car casually as I was talking. Some time later, a guy came with a dog on a leash and asked me courteously, “Please don’t lean onto that car.”

My friend told me that he was “most respectful”. She told me that people usually scream at you. You are not supposed to even touch other cars. People would think you are trying to steal it.

#5
Although this was not exactly a goof up, I’ll write this. This happened in the car park infront of a shopping mall. I was carelessly crossing the road around a corner when a car came from the corner and stopped just a foot away from me. (In Bangalore, you say “more than” a foot for the same situation). I jumped, but recovered and casually went ahead.
I saw the person driving the car keeping her hands on her forehead in horror. She got out of the car and nervously approached me. She was a pretty young lady.
“I’m very very sorry about this. I didn’t see you around the corner.”
“Not to worry. I’m alright.”, I said as if it was not a deal at all.
I saw her sweating with jitters. There’s nothing worse than hitting a pedestrian in US.
For another 2 minutes, she repeated “I’m really really sorry”, “Are you okay?” and “Are you sure?”, until she got on my nerves.

BTW, why do girls always say “really really” or, sometimes, “really really really” when they are apologizing?

“I’m alright, alright? I won’t make a fuss of this. Forget this and don’t worry. You are blocking other cars.”, I grinned as I said.

I think the “I’m alright, alright?” will be a classic quote.

And I got back a very pretty smile which many men would die for.
I wish I had been hit, then it would have had that “Back to the Future” (Or Five Point Someone) effect.

Looks like I always have some funny things going on in my life wherever I go.

Non-mallus, please don’t try to understand this. Because you won’t!!
What is left is to measure “How many kilometers are there from Washington to Miami beach”…
Kilometers and kilometers in these days of degenerating decency where….whatever!!!

It took 15 years for me to surpass my record. Now New Delhi is officially the northernmost place I’ve visited.

I went to New Delhi to get my visa. All expenses were borne by my company. After finishing my day at the company, I went home, packed and had some light food. By that time, my car had come. At that time my cellphone rang.

“Sir, we are calling from Indian Airlines. We regret to say that your flight has been delayed by 30 minutes.”

I would bet that these Indian Airlines chaps would have the Guinness World Record for the highest number of regrets. I’ve never seen an IA flight departing on time.
You may be asking me why I took an Indian Airlines flight then.
Fate!!! (Didn’t get tickets in any other plane)

So I went to airport and waited, gaped at some Kingfisher airhostesses who were walking, pulling a strolley gracefully. Looked like the VIP ad. Somebody apparently thought that onlookers should be given a heavenly feeling when the airhostesses are around, because suddenly we were covered in thick white smoke. (Remember the old purana-based serials, where they always show heaven filled with knee-deep white smoke??)
Two foreigners who were sitting beside me were looking awestricken. They asked me what that was. I replied that it was a desperate attempt to ward off the mosquitoes. (That was one rare time when I didn’t lie)

Aboard the plane, I was again reminded of the Kingfisher airhostesses. There was an aged lady among the cabin crew. She reminded me of another “granny” of Doordarshan. There was a news reader in DD called Salma Sultan who was quite a granny, but always came with dyed hair and red lipstick which looked awful. I mean, there’s no problem with old ladies, but why do they dye their hair and put lipstick?

I’ve heard a joke about Air India (which is no better than Indian Airlines). Their punchline is “Warm and motherly affection”. By “warm”, they mean that the AC doesn’t work. By “motherly”, they mean that all the air hostesses are about your mother’s age.

I reached Delhi…Well, not exactly!
I reached the airspace above Delhi and was hovering there. The pilot kept going in circles for about half an hour above Delhi. Drat!

When we were about to land, they announced that the temperature outside was 35 degrees. I insctinctively looked at my watch. Was it 12 noon or 12 midnight? Then I realised it was Delhi and it was summer.

Finally, I got down. I found my driver. He took me to Maurya Sheraton. I got a nice room. But I couldn’t sleep. At the time of check-in, they had swiped my card for some five digit figure. Not that I had to pay that amount. But I felt guilty spending so much for a night’s stay.

I didn’t get a feel of the real Delhi until noon the next day. That was when I stepped out of the AC in the hotel. Hot is not the word. It was scorching.

I saw from my car that Delhi was good. Good roads and well-planned flyovers. I had read from some blog (I don’t remember) that Delhi looked ugly. I’ll have to disagree. It looks better than Bangalore at least. Maybe I hadn’t visited the uglier parts of the city. But whatever I saw was top class.

My interview was at 1230. I had to stand in the queue outside. I didn’t feel better until I got inside the airconditioned room. I got my visa without much difficulty. I didn’t have much time, so I couldn’t visit any place. I was unlucky.

I returned to hotel and had a good sleep for 1 hour.

As I was packing before checkout, another phonecall came.

“Sir, we are calling from Indian Airlines. We regret to say that your flight has been delayed by 1 hour.”

History repeats!

Disclaimers:
1. This is *not* a review on the movie, so don’t be dejected.
2. This has nothing to do with the movie except that both took place in Banaras.
3. The Bengali words in this post are from the minuscule vocabulary I have acquired from watching Bengali movies (with subtitles, of course). So please excuse me if I make a mistake in Bengali.
4. These are based on actual experiences of my uncle. Some names have been changed; others I made up because I don’t know.

They were four friends from four corners of India - studying together in the multicultural atmosphere of IT-BHU.

Bored with the intellectual routine of their engineering life, they decided to visit the outskirts of Banaras over the weekend. Their plan was to see the “Ramlila” - a kind of drama based on Ramayan.

On Saturday, they all got ready to travel. Ravi and George were packing their bags when Soham came and asked,

“Lokhan kothoi”

Ravi stared blankly at Soham while George mumbled, “There he goes again.”
That sounded like Bengali (they guessed from the lot of O’s) and by the tone of it, it looked like a question. But they didn’t understand what he had meant.

George said, “Talk in English, will you? How in the world do you expect us to understand every time you talk in Bengali?”
Soham said, “Oh…I asked where Lokhan……Lakshman is”
“#$%^!@. Talking to us in Bengali is worse enough for us. Do you have to change names also? Man. You’re impossible.”
Ravi said matter-of-factly, “So you call Lakshman as Lokhan…What do you call Lakshmi then? Lokhi?”
Soham sneered.

*

Soon they set off to their destination. That evening they watched Ramlila. It was a small stage in a large ground. The stage was “well lit” with a few tubelights but there was no microphone. There were quite a few people among the audience and all were watching so silently that you would hear a needle fall.
It was the scene where Hanuman and Raavan were talking before Lankadahan.
Raavan was saying one gargantuan dialogue about 100 words long.
Suddenly the lights went off. Power cut. All they could see now was the silhoutte of the actors in the pale moonlight.
Anyway, that didn’t stop Raavan as he went on with his talking.
Suddenly Hanuman interrupted,

“Ek minute roko” (Wait a minute)

Then he sprinted towards the side of the stage. When he came back, he was carrying a petromax light in his hands.
He casually told Raavan,

“Ab batao” (Go ahead now)

There was a moment of silence, then the four friends started chortling from the audience. They were laughing not because of the few sentences that came out of the blue into the drama, but because the naive villagers were still quiet, listening to every single word with intense devotion and thinking that whatever Hanuman did now too was a part of the script.

George gave a loud audible groan and laughed hysterically. The result of that chuckle - they were chucked out of the grounds and asked not to insult the Ramayana.

*

They were to stay for the night in the only house with a RCC ceiling in the village. That was the house of their friends’ uncle’s wife’s brother’s acquaintance or something like that. They were greeted rather curtly. The owner offered them a nice and plush bedroom. The bed room was the open terrace, which had no stairs. They had to climb to the terrace using a ladder. The terrace had no parapets, so it was a huge threat for George who usually would roll in his sleep and wake up in Delhi if he slept in Madras. Another good thing was the “mouth-watering” smell of the buffalo dung which was wafting around. The buffalo shed was just beside the ladder.

The owner told them there was a loo outside on the corner, in case they wanted to take a piss in the night.
They thanked the owner for the hospitality. (George murmured something which sounded like a pretty nasty swear word)

Ravi woke up after a few hours. He had no idea what time it was. He had to go to the loo. But he realised that it was going to be a Herculean task because he could not see anything. The moonlight was of no help. He went towards the side of the terrace and precariously stepped on where he thought the ladder was before.
He didn’t feel anything solid coming in contact with his feet. But before he could realise that the ladder was not there, it was too late, and he was on his way down. In the few seconds it would take to go down a height of 10 feet, an amazing number of thoughts passed through his mind. He visualised his friends carrying him to the hospital. He had a broken backbone, several compound fractures, a broken nose, a badly bruised face and loss of that heartthrob look.

Veering off topic, I’ve heard a nice PJ somewhat related to this.
Q. What is the difference between a person falling from the first floor and a person falling from the 10th floor?
A. For the first person, it’s THUD! AAAAHHH!
For the second person, it’s AAAAHHH! THUD!

He came back to the real world when he found that he had landed on something cushiony like a couch. Before he could thank God for that, he was in for another scare. A lazy snort coming from his behind and the swish of what felt like a tail. It suddenly dawned on him. That couch-like thing was the back of a buffalo. He had fallen on a buffalo, which, for reasons good or bad for him, was tied outside the shed.
He was totally freaked out that he didn’t move a muscle. A few seconds later, he realised that the buffalo too was not moving at all, in spite of something so heavy falling on its back. That day he realised the meaning of the popular Mallu phrase, “Pothu pole uranguka” (Sleeping like a buffalo).

By that time, the lights came on. The noise had woken everyone up. Ravi felt a jolt of pleasure when the owner too woke up.
When everyone came out to see what was the noise, he slowly got up from the back of the buffalo, gave a wink as if he had just pulled off a nice stunt and went to the toilet without much ado.

I got hold of an old Looney Tune video called “Rabbit Seasoning”. I couldn’t stop laughing after I saw it, although Bugs left me confused after his stretches of clever words. I had to watch it several times to understand and compile these dialogues from the video.

Bugs Bunny [to Elmer Fudd]: Wouldja like to shoot me now or wait till ya get home?
Daffy Duck: Shoot him now! Shoot him now!
Bugs [to Daffy]: You keep outta this! He doesn’t hafta shoot you now.
Daffy : He doeth tho have to shoot me now! (with a “Th” for “s”)
[to Elmer] I demand that you shoot me now!

Elmer points his gun at Daffy. As Daffy sticks his tongue out at Bugs, BANG!

Daffy : Let’th run through that again.
Bugs : Ok.
[indifferent tone] Wouldja like to shoot me now or wait till ya get home?
Daffy : [indifferent tone] Shoot him now! Shoot him now!
Bugs : You keep outta this! He doesn’t hafta shoot you now.
Daffy : [excited] Ha! That’th it! HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!
[to us] Pronoun trouble.
[to Bugs] It’th not “He doethn’t have to shoot [pointing to Bugs] YOU now”.
It’th “He doethn’t have to shoot [pointing to himself] ME now.”
Well, I thay he DOETH have to shoot me now!
[to Elmer] Tho shoot me now!

BANG!

Bugs : Yes?
Daffy : Oh, no you don’t. Not again. Thorry. Thith time we’ll try it from the other end.
[to Elmer] Look, you’re a hunter, right?
Elmer : Wight.
Daffy : And thith ith Rabbit Theathon, right?
Elmer : Wight.
Bugs [pointing at Daffy]: And if he was a rabbit, what would you do?
Daffy : Yeah, if you’re tho thmart, if I wath a rabbit, what would you do?
Elmer : Well, I’d…

Points his rifle at Daffy

Daffy : Not again!

BANG!

Daffy : Ha ha. Very funny. Ha ha ha.

———————————————————————————————–

Daffy : Now ith your chance, Hawkeye. Shoot him! Shoot him!
Bugs : He’s got me dead to rights, doc. Wouldja like to shoot me now or wait till ya get home?
Daffy : Oh no you don’t. Not thith time!
[to Elmer] Wait until you get home!

And as porky pig says: Tha..Tha…Tha…Tha….That’s all folks!

to push those Saint-Gobain ‘pull’ doors…and to pull the ‘push’ doors…and to bang my butthead into the automatic doors. Actually, when it’s not intentional, i just suffer from mental inertia…and by the time i figure out if i should pull or push the door, or whether there is a door at all there, some nice chap will have opened it somehow and walked in…or out…or whichever…DAMN!

I added automatic doors to the list today. It happened that I was talking to somebody thru my cellphone when I reached the door. Whether I thought the door might open before I cross it or forgot to notice the door (automatic or not!), I banged headfirst into the door. Not that it was malfunctioning. It just was a little sluggish for my walk. Result: Nothing happened to the glass; thankfully the impact was not huge. A whole lot of things happened to me. A couple of girls chuckled at me, covering their mouths. I became the scapegoat at office.

Why does this happen to me? Why me, “of all people”? I guess this question is irrelevant! I don’t want an answer to this question because I believe…
I believe that everything happens for a reason: from the problems I have in office, to the embarrassments I had had because I was careless enough to disclose my personal life to somebody, and even the tiny itch I’m feeling right now. Every littlest thing has a reason for its occurance. Perhaps I haven’t found or figured out the reasons, but I think I get an inkling.

This is what I am. I can do only one job at a time. No multitasking possible, although the one-job-at-a-time will be done considerably faster. If I talk to someone when I’m roasting a Dosa, I will talk on end to get the charred remains of what might have been delicious food otherwise.

Sigh…Somehow I wish I had a time-turner…To go back just one day…and I would choose to live it all over again…just so I don’t have to step into the threshold of today…err…not because it was my slackest day

Or is my wish right? I could very well add this tinge of lessons to my future rather than delving deep into my past and mortifying myself.

Then why don’t I do it? Words are easier than deeds!! God save me!!

Couldn’t help remembering this funny incident while I was in Infosys Bangalore. The trigger for this is Sanju Baba’s blog about Credit Cards.

I was going down the elevator in my office when the elevator phone began to ring.
I picked it up.

Anonymous: Sir, I’m calling from ICICI Bank. Do you have an ICICI credit card?

Me: (What the hell?) Ma’am, do you know which place is this?

Anonymous (With a doubtful tone): Why? It’s Infosys,isn’t it?

Me: You’re absolutely right. But the problem is that you have called up into a lift.

Anonymous: *Beep* *Beep* (Means, she hung up without much ado)