Deep pockets, short arms

I never thought using some idioms may land me in an embarrassment.
“Why do you stay alone? Share your room with somebody and save rent,” suggested a friend.
“Hobson’s choice,” I replied.
“Oh, you are sharing room with some Hobson. Then why do your grumble about high rent?” he asked innocently.
“Forget it. Order tea,” I told him.
“It is on you,” he retorted.
“You have deep pockets but short arms,” I replied.
“My arms are not short. Look here,” he stretched out his hand.
Hmmm…

Roadside drama

This Keralite roadside shopkeeper at Al Wahda Street of Sharjah is a talkative, enterprising guy.
“So how is family?” he asked while I was passing by.
“Good, thanks,” I replied.
“So when are you getting married?”
Hmmm. Before I could recover from the shock, I saw another man standing close by. Oh, he was addressing him!
“Say Hi to Babhi,” he told me. (Hindi word for sister-in-law)
“I am not married, just engaged,” replied the other man this time.
“Forty dirhams. For you 30,” the shopkeeper hastily informed a customer looking at a cute handbag.
“Haan. What I was telling. That loan you promised to help,” he addressed us again.
“But I did not,” I replied.
“Not you, the other friend,” he frowned at me this time.
Watching the drama, the customer tried to escape.
“Talk to both of you later.” He abruptly went back to his customer.

Short fuse

I try my best to control anger, but most times it controls me. Tomorrow (Friday) happens to be the day I was born (don’t remember, think 20 years ago!) and so thought would pick up a new jeans from the City Centre, Sharjah.
A friend offered to drop me by taxi while going to his office. The taxi driver rudely asked me to get down, saying he would not stop the vehicle on the way. He cited some rule that sharing is not allowed. In seconds, I blew a fuse and after a heated argument I was forced to get down and walk. Shucks, I could have down that without allowing my BP to shoot up. Lesson learnt – to be forgotten instantly as usual.
Two days ago, I advised a close friend that she should have diplomacy in dealing with things. “No point in shouting at your colleagues,” I told her. “Stop advising,” she reacted. “You are a dear buddy. That’s why,” I tried to cajole her. At the end of the conversation, she was cool and I was furious.
There are people whose only mission in life seems to infuriate others. A junior regularly came to office late. After several warnings, I told my senior to advise him. And he did.
“If you do not report at 2pm tomorrow, you are sacked,” screamed my senior at the guy. The chap glanced at me with a “handle you later” look and moved out.
Next day, he entered the office at 4pm, smiled and flashed a “good evening” to the senior. He then looked at me like a wily cat holding a helpless mouse. Well, such is life.

Where two is crowd

Loneliness. It’s a subject most people will never understand.
A close friend of mine is single and is based in Bangalore. “My mom has passed away and the only companions I have are two sweet parrots,” he told me.
“My dog companion was everything to me. Now that she is no more, I find myself all alone,” cried a pretty Arab woman who is my dear friend in Sharjah.
I rate AA among the rare people who have only goodness in their heart and know not the meaning of hatred. The word “anger” simply does not exist in his dictionary. And this Parsi pal has preferred to keep himself aloof from the hustle-bustle of Mumbai and moved to a Pune suburb. That the area offers very few amenities does not bother him. All he wants is to be left alone. But deep in his heart, he wants company too.
The list can go on. When I asked a couple of friends, they came out with the usual suggestions for lonely souls: Enjoy your own company, solitude is a blessing, join some class, find a girlfriend/boyfriend, read books, learn music, meditate, blah blah blah.
One even threatened in a shrill voice: “Loneliness can lead to clinical depression.”
Personally, even when I take a walk for 10 minutes on the road, I would have said Hi to 10 people. I swear. That’s my nature. I have a job, do exercises, have a small circle of friends, have great blog buddies and if a person like me can at times feel lonely, I understand what my dear friends mentioned above go through.
The solution?
Now you asked a million dollar question. You better answer that yourself. Am waiting to hear your point of view.

Virtual realities of life

“Internet is addictive and not always good. Better be careful,” advised my close friend.
“Ya, it is. A knife can be used for cutting vegetables or causing injuries. I will try to use it to cut veggies. Anyway, thanks for the advice,” I replied.
“A pal of mine had so many friends through the Net. This Indian guy went to Thailand and married his girl friend. He had a tough time.”
“Oh I see.”
“Did you hear about a girl from Pakistan who fell in love with an Indian guy and got married without her parents’ consent. She was rich, but in the new house there was not even a proper toilet?”
“But why do you tell me such stories. Am happily married,” I replied.
“There’s plenty of scope for deception. Sometimes guys may even masquerade as pretty women,” she scared me.
“You are right. Don’t you use the Internet at all?” I asked.
“ I do. But if you had been ditched by a Net friend, you would have also been talking like me.”
"Good and ugly people are there in real as well as virtual world. Lemme pray I interact with the good-hearted ones. So far so good," I packed up.

Dance mantra

A certain company in Dubai is asking employees to “dance” their recession blues away.
“Dance is the best way to beat stress,” argued ESA, a close friend.
I floated the idea to my colleagues.
“I am drowning in a sea of distress. My hubby’s pay has been cut and allowances slashed. I know some steps in Bharatnatyam. Will it work? asked a colleague.
“Try it out,” I suggested.
“Old man, would you like to join the dance? It takes two to tango,” asked another.
“Look at yourself in the mirror,” I answered the 40-plus woman. Hey, don’t stare at me like that. I react that way whenever some snob calls me “Old Man.”
One suggested we all go for a ballet session. The list kept expanding.
Jazz, Hip-hop, novelty, lap dancing…
“We are in Middle East. How about belly dancing?” asked one.
“I know none of these,” complained another.
“Do not lie. You know at least one dance that works wonders for you,” I replied.
“What?”
“Dancing to your wife’s tune.”

‘Loo’ and behold

Republic Day in India (Jan.26) meant picnic time for most of us in Mumbai as the newspapers are closed for a day. We had gone to a forest area in the suburb of Mumbai. We set up a camp and got set to prepare our own food. There were no toilet facilities. My close friend RK told her another friend SD, “Hey, I think we have to settle for the open toilet (field).”
I jokingly said: “I saw a man standing there with binoculars.”
I still laugh at how RK avoided answering nature’s call almost that entire day.

The mischievous friend

“There are more chickens than people in the world,” muttered my friend.
“So?” I asked.
“You should now consider turning non-vegetarian.”
“Very often I am the odd man out at parties here when my friends gleefully gulp meat, chicken, shrimps and all kinds of Arabic non-veg food like ‘Harees.’ It’s a personal choice. I have absolutely no objection,” I replied.
“The problem is you don’t booze, no smoking, what kind of a dreary life is yours?”
“Again, individual choice,” I replied.
He was adamant. “But I think you should taste non-veg food. Anyway, how did you like the ‘cutlet’ you just had?”
“Yummy,” I replied.
“Well, it is chicken cutlet.”
He vanished before I could throw the plate on him.