India visit

Hi, I am presently in Chennai. Visiting Delhi on 4th for a week and then Mumbai. plz be in touch on rames20@gmail.com

Not a bad day after all

The day appeared jinxed.I put on the washing machine at the kitchen and entered the living room. An editor- friend from Mumbai came online and I got engrossed in chatting. Hardly 20 minutes passed by, when I felt something wet soaking my toes. No, I had not done what a baby would have. I looked down and was aghast to see my room filled with soap water.

I had ostensibly left the washing machine outlet tube down the floor and all the rooms were filled with water. I called the watchman and he began cleaning up the mess.

I sat on a chair to chat again when I lost balance and the chair broke. I asked the watchman to discard it.

I then picked up my phone to call India only to realise that there was not sufficient credit.

Enough, I told myself and went down the building to buy fresh milk for coffee.

I saw a friend coming in the opposite direction. He had already taken AED500 from me as loan and I thought it was not the best of days to greet him. I entered a laundry shop. He was approaching fast. I ran to the next pharmacy. He chased and successfully caught me.

Before I could say anything, he thrust AED200 in my pocket and said, “Thanks. I will return the rest later.”

The day was not jinxed after all.

Fun with colleagues

Pleasant and funny colleagues always remain in my memory.

BK was known for his fights with colleagues. One day someone punched him on the nose and left him bleeding. When a friend asked BK why he always fought with people, he replied, “Shut up or your nose will also start bleeding.”

There was the cute RK who unwittingly used to scribble all over my hand with her pen while speaking. I never objected simply because she was cute.

MH had this tendency to scratch all over his body while talking. He was promptly nicknamed “Scratch & Win.”

A senior colleague had this habit of claiming “I did it” whenever a headline was appreciated by the editor. One day, our editor shouted at a sub-editor for a wrong headline, and the guy replied, “No. I did not give this headline. ‘I did it’ did it.”

The best one was a guy who was fond of getting close to women. One day, he invited a gorgeous girl for dinner at a posh restaurant. “Can I come with my friend?” she asked adoringly. “It will be a pleasure,” replied the Romeo, thinking she may join him with another beautiful woman. She landed there with her bodybuilder boyfriend.

Ego basher

My friend was furious. 

“I will teach him a lesson. I will bash him up,” he kept repeating.

To console him, I narrated a story.

An elephant took a bath in a pond and started walking on the road. A dog that had completely dirtied itself with filth crossed the elephant’s path. The tusker politely moved aside. The dog laughed at it saying, “You are so big, but scared of me.” The elephant replied, “I can crush you in a second. But I do not want to dirty my legs.”

I told my friend, “Be like that elephant. Do not dirty yourself.”

He was not convinced.

“No one can stop me. It is impossible. I will bash him up.”

The word “impossible” reminded me of a joke.

One guy told his friend, “The word ‘impossible’ does not exist in my dictionary.”

“You should have checked the dictionary properly before you bought it,” came the reply.

Thankfully, the joke calmed my friend, at least for the moment.

Razor-edge experience

I was quite at peace with my hairstyle but comments from friends like “Go, get a shampoo bath,” and “Your head looks like a rocket-launcher,” landed me in a salon chair.

The hairstylist from Kerala began his job in right earnest. Unfortunately, the political news on the TV behind was a huge distraction. Every two minutes, he turned around to say loudly, “Yes, this minister is a culprit. He must have committed murder.”

In a few minutes, my head turned a battleground for him. That was OK. What followed was worse. I had opted for a shave. The news continued on TV. The party of the minister defended him and that was too much for the hairstylist. “Idiots,” he shouted looking at the TV and I had a cut on my face.

He was disappointed but not rattled to see blood. “It’s a small cut,” he pacified me, splashing an after-shave and showering talcum powder.

After the entire trauma, when I returned to office the next day, the first comment from a colleague was, “What happened? Did you allow rats to run riot on your head?”