Always and Forever.. ♪♫
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Always and Forever.. ♪♫
Go ahead, make my little day; I'll
never be hungry again.
Note:
This post doesn't contain anything that can trigger laughter, or any tickle-
your-rib materials. Infact scenes, incidents, characters that are defined in
this post are described in a way to make you depressed. If you are already
depressed, not a problem, it will make you more depressed. It won’t even make you smile. Don’t read this post
Last few words..
This post is an improvisation of the things that never happened in anyone’s
life. I wish it shouldn't happen to anyone. I’m getting very depressed for no
reason.
♪♫ ♪
Jingle bells.. Jingle
bells .. Jingle on the way.. ♪♫
………………♪♫ ♪♫
I often forget the
lyrics between the stanzas. I’m poor in memorizing because of the sheer stage
fear that I developed during my childhood. Back in those days, I was
a good dancer. Not professional, but acute. I used to dance for this song mukala mukabula like Prabhudeva himself.A bad habit in Indian
families is that when their kid comes up with lovely stuffs, the parents brag about
that to everyone. Everyone.
Okay. That’s fine. Every does it when they have an adorableness of Karthikness. But everything has a limit.My parents asked me to
dance infront of some stranger uncle and aunty who came to eat only bajji and sojji, and occasionally take a break to breath and ask for water only.
And Naduvula konjam they will without any shame they say "Dance aaadu karthii…"
My casual response to such embarassing situation is Staring. Yet, this people have a strong persisitenc, they insist to a level even the mother who bore me for 10 months would refuse to do so.
My casual response to such embarassing situation is Staring. Yet, this people have a strong persisitenc, they insist to a level even the mother who bore me for 10 months would refuse to do so.
I used to think what do these people have in mind about me? I dance and it obviously doesn’t mean I can dance in front some strangers who treat me as coin-operated robot. It irritates me, that too when the guests say, "you look cute da chellam., show us how you dance know?.." This is unbearable, will he happy if someone says " you have a beautiful wife, show us some know?"
Series of similar instances led to my stage-puking inhibition because of my public dance exhibition. When I was in my KGs my mommy used to prepare me for nursery poem recitation. Despite repeating johnny johnny yess papa, twinkle twinkly little stars for milliontimes, there is always humpty the dumpty that fell down and broke his toes. I reckless forget the poems that was supposed to memorized to me after sleepless training of my mommy for weeks. I am creature that refuses to take any sort of social embarassment that life puts me before hot chicks. Even in my KGs there were some wanabe girls that wanted to hangout with me. To handle such situation,
I developed a simple technique that will be explained in the next few lines..
I take the liberty of appending the magic phrase, “ha ha” in any part of the song with a flawless synchrony with the tune.
I take the liberty of appending the magic phrase, “ha ha” in any part of the song with a flawless synchrony with the tune.
For example, jingle bells will sound like:
♫ ♪ Jingle bells.. Jingle bells .. Jingle
on the way..
And there are situations, where
I forgot the examination in the first pace and sung haha alone. These mechanism always fetched me " chamthu kanna, miss kita padichitu apurama solu" with a pinch in my kutty kannam.
Those were the days when I was a chubby kid
and people awed at my cuteness.I had the freedom to go to any girl and
ask her to kiss me. She would do it. My cuteness fetched me kisses and hugs
everywhere.
Today, no matter I am
cute. I can’t ask a girl to kiss me. Basically, I am shy. And since lately my chubbiness turned into a fastidious fattiness, I became even more shyer. In the current situation, I am forced to sit all
alone in the last bench when my friends went for a date with their corresponding
girl friends.
The professor who came to
the class during the POM hour started by defining Operations Research, eventhough it had
no correlation with the subject. And no one appealed.
I was confused. Because
even a student like me can find it has nothing to do with the subject.
So I beckoned at the toppers,
nerds, geeks to ask for the justice.My voice, as usual, was unheard. They simply glued their eyes onto the
board.I wanted to raise my hands
to appeal the professor, who is commiting such an injustice. I didn’t raise my hand. A realization struck me. I was not prepared to answer the teacher if he asked me " Who are you in the first place?". I usualy all his classes.
The class was make-your-life-hell type of boring. There is another type of boring called rather-you-die, that is highest order of boredoem. And this was 2 steps below. So I changed my mind, to whatever-happens-I am listening mode.
But I was unusually curious to listen. I know in a classroom infrastructure like this, when I’m unusually curious in such a boring class, only one thing happens. I was astonished a little looking at my visionary skills. To prepare myself before the inevitable sleepiness attacks me, I keept a cup of water beside me to wet my eyes whenever, wherever I felt sleepy.
I have to tell you, my first instance of wetting myself happened within the 2 minutes.
But I was unusually curious to listen. I know in a classroom infrastructure like this, when I’m unusually curious in such a boring class, only one thing happens. I was astonished a little looking at my visionary skills. To prepare myself before the inevitable sleepiness attacks me, I keept a cup of water beside me to wet my eyes whenever, wherever I felt sleepy.
I have to tell you, my first instance of wetting myself happened within the 2 minutes.
After 5 minutes I started
pouring water allover my face. It dint help much. I looked around, and found none of
them were awake. One or two who were listening also just pretending.
I continued listening to the class. The professor gave a whole spectrum of boring examples which anyone would prefer to avoid. Though it was not fascinating, I wanted
to listen because I don’t want to sleep.
Actually, I don’t want to
sleep that time. Mondays are the days full of boring lectures. I wanted to sleep in the later hours.Moreover, I had a faint
hope that I would learn something from listening.
Listening teaches you a gazillion of life lessons. And gossiping requires lot of listening.. My aunt aunt for Borada was such good a listener, and that makes her a excellent gossip maker. She once came
home and made everyone in the neighborhood believe that I’m engaged to my cousin. I don’t know how she found
I had a crush . It did delight me from some dimension.
So I kept all my ears open
for the lessons to pour on.So I can make epic gossips.
No help. I slept in the sitting position itself. After 10 minutes of relentless lecturing, he went to the board to write something.
No help. I slept in the sitting position itself. After 10 minutes of relentless lecturing, he went to the board to write something.
He wrote "Operations
Research". It was like seeing the title card after the movie credits.
I realized resisting my drowsiness all while had no fruit. I can’t take the shit anymore, I finnaly gave up.
I realized resisting my drowsiness all while had no fruit. I can’t take the shit anymore, I finnaly gave up.
I casually opened-up my arms and eased myself, when he started talking about the importance of OR. I wanted to laugh for no reason when he bulleted the third point.
The demanor of a gentlemen prevent to me from laughing in a
class like this.
Because laugher can be cacophonous to my fellow mates who are down asleep in the level 2 inception.. I clap hands and all when I laugh which might create a scene and make the class exciting.
Therefore, distributing the divine calmness, I gushed out a quintilion of air, with a big
yawn, the lion rested its head before the third point was complete.
At that moment, there were so many
thoughts rushing into my head. I thought what would be there for lunch? who is more bitchy? who has a bad breath? what is sandwhich? Then I remembered I didn’t get my lunch box.
To forget the disappointment, I started to guess what would be the possible lunch menu for my class mates. Starting from the roll number 1, I began guessing. It was intresting though, soon I got bored.
People say Life is full of Surprise, and you have to wait for the right time.
The right time came to me. I wanted to steal someone's food. The girl, who sitst next to my desk, always gets an apple . Last time, when I snatched her apple and ran, she emptied her water bottle in some bag assuming its mine I seriously think she has a problem. She assumes she is intelligent, clever and all. How stupid she can be? Every-morning she sees me coming in and leaving out of the class empty handed..
To forget the disappointment, I started to guess what would be the possible lunch menu for my class mates. Starting from the roll number 1, I began guessing. It was intresting though, soon I got bored.
People say Life is full of Surprise, and you have to wait for the right time.
The right time came to me. I wanted to steal someone's food. The girl, who sitst next to my desk, always gets an apple . Last time, when I snatched her apple and ran, she emptied her water bottle in some bag assuming its mine I seriously think she has a problem. She assumes she is intelligent, clever and all. How stupid she can be? Every-morning she sees me coming in and leaving out of the class empty handed..
The best part is she still continues to empty her bottle in some bag. I am little evil, I have to agree. A
Today, I badly wanted to taste the revenge for someone's wet bag.
With high hopes, I opened the violet box. It was empty. This was very disappointing. I thought luck didn't work for me. I gathered some lost hope and went to the green. The it was also empty. This time, it really pissed me off.
I decided, if there is
nothing in the last box, I would throw that all the three box out.
I held that last box in my
hand. I noticed I had a fine grip of elite swordsmen of the Royal Army; the way
I held the box astonished me a little.
The whole situation was
comparable to an ultra slow motion scene of a depressing movie. I looked at
her, her friends, monkeys, slowly let the last box open…
What I saw was beautiful.
What I saw was extremely elegant.
My heart skipped a beat.
Birds flocked across my empty sky. The tides began to recede.
The picturesque beauty of that fruit was incomparable to curves of Namitha..
It was strawberries … Strawberries were on my
eyes..my eyes full of strawberries.. I wanted to yell..roll...jump
I had shed the tears of
happiness.
I took one from the box,
put that cute little fruit inside my mouth.I slurped with great anxiety. The
aroma of the fruit filled my entire mouth.
The taste was heavenly…
I know what happens if she
discovers all her favorite fruits were swallowed by me. It made me laugh. So I
decided to leave a note inside the box with some remains of the eaten fruit.
I wrote: Karthik was here
!
I prayed she should empty
her water bottle in someone’s laptop bag.
All guys love teasing girls. She is my favorite.
I know it is first hour of
the first week of my first class in last semester. Doing like this is not
fair, it didn't affect me much.. . I can’t share it with anyone. I downed
fruit one by one humming with great enjoyment…
♪♫London
bridge is falling down
ha ha ha… ha ha..ha.
Epilogue:
I slept happily that
night! J J J
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