Everyone has a friend who always ends up being the butt of jokes. I also have few of those, the story of one I have narrated in this blog. I seem to attract these elements in hordes. Obviously there is something about me that they like very much and if my mother's words are to taken seriously, [ I don't and I suggest you don't either], birds of the same colour, feather, beak and religion stick together.
Here is one such story, wherein stars a good friend of mine Hrishi and a group of friends.
Hrishi and group of friends, who call themselves friends of nature, regularly take an anual trekking to Sabarimala [ a place of pilgrimage in Kerala]. They take a deviation from the regular route, i.e., they reach Sabarimala, going through a rough terrain called Erumeli, which is a virginal forest land and where there is a natural abundance of wild life. They usually take the well worn path, used by pilgrims and take a few meters ofdigression only when the call of nature is really pressing and very demanding. Even then, the group does not split, but stay in earshot distance from each other. On one such 'deviated' trip, amidst cries of " Kallum Mullum, Kalikku Methai", they were cries of "run for your life, AN ELEPHANT!!
BUT IT WAS TOO LATE!!! The elephant was too near and almost on them. And you know, you can run fast with your pants on, but not at all with your pants half down, a natural position you assume in the line of duty of attending to these calls of nature. The only natural thing to do, in these pressing times of impending danger, is to seek out the assistance of the 'Great One', Swamy Ayyappan, which was naturally what Hrishi and his friends of nature proceeded to do. In the squatting position, the elephant seen in close quarters is certainly a towering phenomenon with phenominal degree of menace, and it was not lost on our friends of nature. They closed their eyes, and without even bothering to stand up, cried aloud, all in unison. "SWAMIYE SARANAM AYYAPPA, RAKSHIKANE THAMPURANE" [ HELP US O' GOD].
And Lo!!!SWAMY AYYAPPAN answered their prayers with a loud laughter. What was a mere elephant before the might of the GREAT ONE and naturally our friends of nature were relieved [relief as in relief you feel from a narrow escape and not as in relieved bowels] to hear the laughter that came from the skies. It is not in our everyday lives that Swamy Ayyappan, personally descends from the skies to relieve [ the same meaning as the one above] you of your burdens. With a great sense of gratitude, the friends of nature jumped up, pulled up their pants not wanting to be caught with their pants down [ no pun intended] whether it be the elephant or AYYAPPAN.
There atop the elephant appeared the beaming face of their saviour, the mahout. The elephant was a tame one and was used to transport the trees felled in the forest and our friends of nature simply bumped into it or rather, the elephant simply caught them with their pants down. Needless to say, the mahout fell off the elephant, laughing his guts out and our friends of nature, all ashen faced, joined the mahout [ still lying on the ground and still laughing] in laughing mania that lasted days.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Colonise the moon
My name is Madhavan Nayan and I work in VSSC. Iam the top gun
in my field, which is sending rockets to the moon. This is also a
place I call home because I stay back here for the night, many times
a week.
"You know what happens to the busy bee?...One day he will find
out that someone else is using his 'honey' ", my wife would tell me
thus when I tell her that I had lots of work at the office and would
not come back home for the night. But after successful attempts
such as the ASLV [ Arabian Sea Landing Vehicles], I wasn't going
to be stopped. I had a dream. I was reaching out to the moon.
"Now listen, you moongrel..eh..ah..I mean..mongrel!!. You cannot
make sure if your kids are going to school, but you think you can get
that contraption to the moon, of all places? You think a trip to the
moon will bring down the price of moong dal or rice?" Yes, that is
what my wife said..She said that..yes.
I wasn't going to be distracted. I had enough information from my
secret agent in NASA, Naomi Cambell [code name - ISRO 007] ,
that the americans were planning to colonise the moon. They were
establishing colonies everywhere. I had to establish territory in
the moon before americans ever got there. You see, America was a
place where a lot of Indians lived once before Christopher Colombus
brought his men over to displace the Indian community and establish
territory. I had a lot of cousins [ twice removed] in America. But Iam
ashamed to say that they are all working for Chris' nephews
and grandchildren, now. Naomi's message was loud and clear,
" 'Colonial cousins' fame skyrocket to moon". Jeeeezzz!!!!!!!!
They had taken off. I had no time to lose.
The final day of the launch had arrived.
"four...three..two..one..GO!!", I screamed at the top of my voice
and the rocket took off with a thundering blast. The blast and fire
of the rocket hit my head with a nerve shattering bang and I fell
unconcious on the floor . I still could hear the words 'moon...moon',
dripping out of my mouth
"Doctor, his name is Venugopal Unnikrishnan and Iam his wife. Ever since
he was suspended from service from VSSC, for being under the influence of
alcohol while on duty, he was not behaving normally. The night before Chandrayan was launched, he was so drunk and had not slept. At 6.45am, he announced to us that he was sending his own personal rocket to the moon, alongside Chandrayan and he set a rocket [ a kind of fire cracker you buy for Deepavali] aflame, sitting next to the TV, watching Chandrayan being launched, live. The only way to stop him was hit him on the head with a sledge hammer, which was all that was available. Is he trying to say moon..moon or is he simply moaning in pain, Doctor?"
in my field, which is sending rockets to the moon. This is also a
place I call home because I stay back here for the night, many times
a week.
"You know what happens to the busy bee?...One day he will find
out that someone else is using his 'honey' ", my wife would tell me
thus when I tell her that I had lots of work at the office and would
not come back home for the night. But after successful attempts
such as the ASLV [ Arabian Sea Landing Vehicles], I wasn't going
to be stopped. I had a dream. I was reaching out to the moon.
"Now listen, you moongrel..eh..ah..I mean..mongrel!!. You cannot
make sure if your kids are going to school, but you think you can get
that contraption to the moon, of all places? You think a trip to the
moon will bring down the price of moong dal or rice?" Yes, that is
what my wife said..She said that..yes.
I wasn't going to be distracted. I had enough information from my
secret agent in NASA, Naomi Cambell [code name - ISRO 007] ,
that the americans were planning to colonise the moon. They were
establishing colonies everywhere. I had to establish territory in
the moon before americans ever got there. You see, America was a
place where a lot of Indians lived once before Christopher Colombus
brought his men over to displace the Indian community and establish
territory. I had a lot of cousins [ twice removed] in America. But Iam
ashamed to say that they are all working for Chris' nephews
and grandchildren, now. Naomi's message was loud and clear,
" 'Colonial cousins' fame skyrocket to moon". Jeeeezzz!!!!!!!!
They had taken off. I had no time to lose.
The final day of the launch had arrived.
"four...three..two..one..GO!!", I screamed at the top of my voice
and the rocket took off with a thundering blast. The blast and fire
of the rocket hit my head with a nerve shattering bang and I fell
unconcious on the floor . I still could hear the words 'moon...moon',
dripping out of my mouth
"Doctor, his name is Venugopal Unnikrishnan and Iam his wife. Ever since
he was suspended from service from VSSC, for being under the influence of
alcohol while on duty, he was not behaving normally. The night before Chandrayan was launched, he was so drunk and had not slept. At 6.45am, he announced to us that he was sending his own personal rocket to the moon, alongside Chandrayan and he set a rocket [ a kind of fire cracker you buy for Deepavali] aflame, sitting next to the TV, watching Chandrayan being launched, live. The only way to stop him was hit him on the head with a sledge hammer, which was all that was available. Is he trying to say moon..moon or is he simply moaning in pain, Doctor?"
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Cherian in birthday suit
When I think about the past, how more than half my life went by, in a jiffy, I wonder if I would have made any difference to it if I had a chance to have a go at it again. I might not even take the offer at all. You are not going to believe this...one of the reasons is Cherian, my best friend. If I got another chance to redeem myself , that would mean that Cherian would also get another chance and he may use it to change himself radically from the person that he is now. Now what is life without an occassional dose of Cherian? He has become as addictive as your regular bed coffee. You know very well that coffee is not good for you , though it is ok in small doses. I have had people give varied opinions about Cherian , as myriad as, " I didn't know what a headache looked like until I met cherian" or " you do not miss headaches however frequent they were, now do you?", when they were asked a simple question such as "would you miss Cherian if he went away for a long time?".
Cherian hails from the Great Royal family of the "Perumals". His great great great grandfather was called King Cheran [King Cheraman Perumal fame]. But when the advent of Christianity came with St.Xavier visiting Kerala in the early 500AD, King Cheran converted to Christianity [ that was the kind of thing in vogue at that time] and made a minor change to his name...i.e.,
he became King Cher[i]an.
What makes Cherian so unique, is the way he reacts to things. He considers himself an incurable romantic. Yet, when this lovely girl, in engineering college, asked him, " Cheian dear, may I hold your hand?", Cherian absent mindedly replied, " no, it is not heavy, I shall hold it myself..". Now that hurt...I mean that hurt like hell. Not many girls dared to give Cherian a caressing glance
with a romatic eye, ever after. Cherian was thought to be rude and sarcastic, but we, the close friends, know it is not true. Another thing about Cherian is that if you asked him the same question three times, you would get three different answers. Lalu Mangal, who is currrently engaged in the uphill task of teaching Cherian to play guitar, begs to differ. " Four", he says, " because he is square". Now that is rude, coming from the guru himself.
Now, let me knock of the bull...t and come to the point. Why wouldn't I want a go at redeeming myself, if I got a chance? Like I told ya earlier, Cherian would also change himself and with it all fun in life. From the days when we were in school, Cherian was always there to butt in anywhere with his ready-mix of jokes or he would be butt of the joke, himself. Nothing funny ever happened, without Cherian starring in it. You name it, Cherian has done it. And he excelled in all sports and games too. He is credited with scoring four goals playing a cricket match against the 'B' batch, in Govt.Arts College. He scored the first goal when the ball he threw at the stumps, hit the wicket keeper on the head that knocked him out for the rest of the season, the second when he swung his bat to hit a sixer even before the bowler released the ball and got bowled out, the third when stopped a square drive, catching the ball in his mouth, the fourth when he stopped the ball at the "slips" and ran with the ball to the other end beating the batsman to it, but failing to stump him out [ he forgot... he thought he was doing a 100m dash]. And he sings too. But do not ever ask Lalu Mangal , his opinion. If you asked him, , his answer would be something like," Pigs might fly!!".
Now here is a story about Cherian which still does the rounds in the friend's circle. It is called Cherian in birthday suit. Ofcourse it was not same dress which he wore on november 9th, 1960. Iam so sorry if I coveyed such an impression. Of course, Cherian still wears the same outfit, only it is a bit crumpled and stretched, as though it needed a bit of pressing and ironing badly. This story does not refer to that particular dress of his, but another one which he received as birthday gift.
This happenend way back in college when Cherian started to learn to play guitar from Lalu Mangal. Needless to say, his outfit wasn't as shabby as it is now, it had a glow and gleam to it, with all the daily massage and cleaning it was subjected to. And he hoped to impress a few female hearts with his deft work of fingers, of course on the guitar strings [ what else did you think?].
Lalu was an ideal choice of a guitar guru. For one, he did not charge any fees and did not mind if Cherian occassionally [once a day] broke the guitar strings. He attacked the strings with a vengence, tearing at it sometimes, enraged by its refusal to produce any sound that remotely resembled anything he called "moosik". Lalu had to put up with not only the cacophonic flatulence emnated from the guitar, but also all the verbal diarrhea cherian's fury unleashed, as well. And he would remark thus, sometimes. " There is no point in teaching you anything, Cherian. Whatever I say goes in one ear and out the other ear, because there is nothing in between to stop them". Now we used to call him fat headed, but this void and emptiness Lalu referred to was never noticed by any of us.
Cherian did not have much time at his command. He was supposed to play guitar for one of the musical functions to be held at Kovalam beach. He was confident he could, though Lalu's comments like "that will be the day" were not exactly very encouraging. One more thing bothered Cherian. What if the guitar strings broke again, while he was playing on stage? He may not look it, but to be prepared for any eventualiy was Cherian, if not anything else. He ordered for some guitar strings, to be brought from England. He was very happy to know that his cousin in England bought, in an auction, guitar strings used by none other than the famous actress and singer, Barbara Streissand. Cherian proudly announced to everyone this fact. He could hardly contain himself. He told everyone to be present for his birthday, which happened to the day before day of college day celebrations, so he could show everyone this special gift.
We all reached Cherian's house at the appointed time and there was Cherian waving this package covered with a very brightly coloured paper. In front of about 100 of his friends, Cherian unwrapped the packet. And pulled out what looked like anything but guitar strings. It was an elastic band which had a few strange looking attachements made of very thin cloth.
"Those are G-Strings!!! Proabably worn by Barbara Streissand when she strutted around the beaches", someone yelled loudly. Until then I had never seen G-Strings in my life. I do not recall anyone using one either. Cherian grew livid with rage and confronted his cousin for playing the worst ever prank possible. But his cousin insisted that this was what Cherian had ordered and showed the letter Cherian send him.
"Dear Biju, I am due to appear in a function, to be held at Kovalam beach, clad as smartly as possible and even play git..er..this musical instrument. Could you send me some Gi...er G strings so I can use them in case I need them?"
Cherian could not spell guitar right and so he cut short the word guitar strings to g strings and I think he never expected to receive a piece of clothing that can be comfortably folded and packed in a match box.
All said and done, he is a great friend who will stand by through thick and thin [and it is not the reason why he is called thick headed, period], a real buddy to all who care to try and understand the complex personality, that is Cherian.
Cherian hails from the Great Royal family of the "Perumals". His great great great grandfather was called King Cheran [King Cheraman Perumal fame]. But when the advent of Christianity came with St.Xavier visiting Kerala in the early 500AD, King Cheran converted to Christianity [ that was the kind of thing in vogue at that time] and made a minor change to his name...i.e.,
he became King Cher[i]an.
What makes Cherian so unique, is the way he reacts to things. He considers himself an incurable romantic. Yet, when this lovely girl, in engineering college, asked him, " Cheian dear, may I hold your hand?", Cherian absent mindedly replied, " no, it is not heavy, I shall hold it myself..". Now that hurt...I mean that hurt like hell. Not many girls dared to give Cherian a caressing glance
with a romatic eye, ever after. Cherian was thought to be rude and sarcastic, but we, the close friends, know it is not true. Another thing about Cherian is that if you asked him the same question three times, you would get three different answers. Lalu Mangal, who is currrently engaged in the uphill task of teaching Cherian to play guitar, begs to differ. " Four", he says, " because he is square". Now that is rude, coming from the guru himself.
Now, let me knock of the bull...t and come to the point. Why wouldn't I want a go at redeeming myself, if I got a chance? Like I told ya earlier, Cherian would also change himself and with it all fun in life. From the days when we were in school, Cherian was always there to butt in anywhere with his ready-mix of jokes or he would be butt of the joke, himself. Nothing funny ever happened, without Cherian starring in it. You name it, Cherian has done it. And he excelled in all sports and games too. He is credited with scoring four goals playing a cricket match against the 'B' batch, in Govt.Arts College. He scored the first goal when the ball he threw at the stumps, hit the wicket keeper on the head that knocked him out for the rest of the season, the second when he swung his bat to hit a sixer even before the bowler released the ball and got bowled out, the third when stopped a square drive, catching the ball in his mouth, the fourth when he stopped the ball at the "slips" and ran with the ball to the other end beating the batsman to it, but failing to stump him out [ he forgot... he thought he was doing a 100m dash]. And he sings too. But do not ever ask Lalu Mangal , his opinion. If you asked him, , his answer would be something like," Pigs might fly!!".
Now here is a story about Cherian which still does the rounds in the friend's circle. It is called Cherian in birthday suit. Ofcourse it was not same dress which he wore on november 9th, 1960. Iam so sorry if I coveyed such an impression. Of course, Cherian still wears the same outfit, only it is a bit crumpled and stretched, as though it needed a bit of pressing and ironing badly. This story does not refer to that particular dress of his, but another one which he received as birthday gift.
This happenend way back in college when Cherian started to learn to play guitar from Lalu Mangal. Needless to say, his outfit wasn't as shabby as it is now, it had a glow and gleam to it, with all the daily massage and cleaning it was subjected to. And he hoped to impress a few female hearts with his deft work of fingers, of course on the guitar strings [ what else did you think?].
Lalu was an ideal choice of a guitar guru. For one, he did not charge any fees and did not mind if Cherian occassionally [once a day] broke the guitar strings. He attacked the strings with a vengence, tearing at it sometimes, enraged by its refusal to produce any sound that remotely resembled anything he called "moosik". Lalu had to put up with not only the cacophonic flatulence emnated from the guitar, but also all the verbal diarrhea cherian's fury unleashed, as well. And he would remark thus, sometimes. " There is no point in teaching you anything, Cherian. Whatever I say goes in one ear and out the other ear, because there is nothing in between to stop them". Now we used to call him fat headed, but this void and emptiness Lalu referred to was never noticed by any of us.
Cherian did not have much time at his command. He was supposed to play guitar for one of the musical functions to be held at Kovalam beach. He was confident he could, though Lalu's comments like "that will be the day" were not exactly very encouraging. One more thing bothered Cherian. What if the guitar strings broke again, while he was playing on stage? He may not look it, but to be prepared for any eventualiy was Cherian, if not anything else. He ordered for some guitar strings, to be brought from England. He was very happy to know that his cousin in England bought, in an auction, guitar strings used by none other than the famous actress and singer, Barbara Streissand. Cherian proudly announced to everyone this fact. He could hardly contain himself. He told everyone to be present for his birthday, which happened to the day before day of college day celebrations, so he could show everyone this special gift.
We all reached Cherian's house at the appointed time and there was Cherian waving this package covered with a very brightly coloured paper. In front of about 100 of his friends, Cherian unwrapped the packet. And pulled out what looked like anything but guitar strings. It was an elastic band which had a few strange looking attachements made of very thin cloth.
"Those are G-Strings!!! Proabably worn by Barbara Streissand when she strutted around the beaches", someone yelled loudly. Until then I had never seen G-Strings in my life. I do not recall anyone using one either. Cherian grew livid with rage and confronted his cousin for playing the worst ever prank possible. But his cousin insisted that this was what Cherian had ordered and showed the letter Cherian send him.
"Dear Biju, I am due to appear in a function, to be held at Kovalam beach, clad as smartly as possible and even play git..er..this musical instrument. Could you send me some Gi...er G strings so I can use them in case I need them?"
Cherian could not spell guitar right and so he cut short the word guitar strings to g strings and I think he never expected to receive a piece of clothing that can be comfortably folded and packed in a match box.
All said and done, he is a great friend who will stand by through thick and thin [and it is not the reason why he is called thick headed, period], a real buddy to all who care to try and understand the complex personality, that is Cherian.
Friday, October 24, 2008
THE BLACK & WHITE OF THE MATTER
This is just a narration of an incident that happened when I was very active in an organisation called the PFA [People For Animals]. A few days after joining the group, I assumed the role of joint secretary of PFA. The secretary happened to be a very stern looking woman named Leela Latheef . She had this nasty habit of making me do just about everything she was supposed to do and take the credit for it. And on that fateful afternoon, my beauty nap was shattered by a telephone ringing, so furiously, as though shouting all profanities you could imagine at me. The only person who could bring about such conditions on inanimate objects was Leela Latheef.
I picked up the phone, " hello Leela chechi"
"how do you always know it is me?"
"never mind. What's up?'
"Now listen, dingbat. I found this strange looking ant which hasblack and white marking on its body in my kitchen"
"say what!!!"
"Yes, an ant with black and white lines on its...er...buttocks."
"Ant's buttocks !!!!!???"
"well, whatever you call its rear end".
" Chechi, are you sure it is an ant? As far as I know, only zebras have black and white lines on their body. Are you sure it is not a zebra?"
"listen you dingaling. I have that ant in the palm of my hand, righthere. You couldn't do hold a zebra in the palm of the hand, now could you? "
She had a point there, and a very pertinent one. She weighed about 15-20 kg less than an adult zebra and her palm couldn't be big enough to hold one.
" now what do you want me to do?"
"Now go to Prem's house, find out all you can about this particularspecies of ants. I think this is a very rare find..something that was thought to be extinct. The world could be in for a shock, Venu, whenI tell everyone of my findings. After Prem's, go off to meet thedirector of the zoo,Mr. Ravindran and report the finding to him and get back here, in my house, in five minutes, pronto".
Prem was supposed to be a walking encyclopedia on animals, birds,insects, and all creepy-crawlies. He was very short man, in fact, he was so short, he was always the last one to know when it rained. His face had a perpetual frown, acquired from years of squinting into holes and crevices made by insects. I always kept my nose tightly shut, in his presence, for fear of him poking a finger in there to check for anything that walked, creeped or crawled.
"hi Prem" I yelled. I never go too near him lest I get inspected with those fingers.
"Hi bud, what's crawling...I mean.. cooking?
"I told him the story.
"Never heard of any such species. Let's check it with Mr.Ravindran, anyway"
We were made to wait for an hour at Mr.Ravindran's office. He hated all the PFA members and needless to say we had this feeling we were Antartica, looking for penguins and seals. Ravindran was a tall, thin man in his early fiftees. Until you walked upto him, you couldn't be sure he was facing you frontward or sideways....he was that thin. He was always wired to his seat for fear being blown away if someone just much as sneezed and of course, he never switched on the tablefan.
"what do you want?" he growled
"Sir, we found this strange looking ant and an ant that...."
"Listen, Venu. I have my hands full of work this morning and I don'thave the time nor the inclination to listen to this story of ants.Make it very short."
"Sir, it is very rare species of ants"
"ok, put it along with the other insects".
"Now Sir, if I may point out.. we do not have any other insects".
"Whatever happened to the other members of the PFA?"
We came out dejected and depressed. I was going to mortally ruin all chances of Leela chechi's dream of getting into history books withthis rare find. I decided to confront Leela chechi with my findings on the issue.Leela chechi lived in a big house, half of which known only to the dogs and cats that lived there. I mean it took an excruciatingly painful, long search of the surrounding to find out where she was in the house. She was in the company of Sarala, another PFA member, whose husband was a building contractor. Sarala was what you called a 15 year old boy's dream, I mean, she had big muscles and even a faint ghost of a mustache. She and Leelachechi greeted me with wide grins, Leela chechi's being wider and broader. You would think if she didn't have ears at the side of her head, the ends of her lips would meet each other behind her head.
" know what, Venu?. Sarala's workers were painting the windows white and iron grills black. This irritated a colony of ants, which had colonised the crevice on the window. You know, these ants... when they are angry, they raise the back side in a show of temper, which rubbed against wet paint on the grill and window sill, leaving those black and white marks on their body. And I thought...hi..hi.. And youdingbat, you told the entire world that I made this silly mistake. You have a big mouth".
Yes, I needed a big mouth because that is where I kept my foot.
I picked up the phone, " hello Leela chechi"
"how do you always know it is me?"
"never mind. What's up?'
"Now listen, dingbat. I found this strange looking ant which hasblack and white marking on its body in my kitchen"
"say what!!!"
"Yes, an ant with black and white lines on its...er...buttocks."
"Ant's buttocks !!!!!???"
"well, whatever you call its rear end".
" Chechi, are you sure it is an ant? As far as I know, only zebras have black and white lines on their body. Are you sure it is not a zebra?"
"listen you dingaling. I have that ant in the palm of my hand, righthere. You couldn't do hold a zebra in the palm of the hand, now could you? "
She had a point there, and a very pertinent one. She weighed about 15-20 kg less than an adult zebra and her palm couldn't be big enough to hold one.
" now what do you want me to do?"
"Now go to Prem's house, find out all you can about this particularspecies of ants. I think this is a very rare find..something that was thought to be extinct. The world could be in for a shock, Venu, whenI tell everyone of my findings. After Prem's, go off to meet thedirector of the zoo,Mr. Ravindran and report the finding to him and get back here, in my house, in five minutes, pronto".
Prem was supposed to be a walking encyclopedia on animals, birds,insects, and all creepy-crawlies. He was very short man, in fact, he was so short, he was always the last one to know when it rained. His face had a perpetual frown, acquired from years of squinting into holes and crevices made by insects. I always kept my nose tightly shut, in his presence, for fear of him poking a finger in there to check for anything that walked, creeped or crawled.
"hi Prem" I yelled. I never go too near him lest I get inspected with those fingers.
"Hi bud, what's crawling...I mean.. cooking?
"I told him the story.
"Never heard of any such species. Let's check it with Mr.Ravindran, anyway"
We were made to wait for an hour at Mr.Ravindran's office. He hated all the PFA members and needless to say we had this feeling we were Antartica, looking for penguins and seals. Ravindran was a tall, thin man in his early fiftees. Until you walked upto him, you couldn't be sure he was facing you frontward or sideways....he was that thin. He was always wired to his seat for fear being blown away if someone just much as sneezed and of course, he never switched on the tablefan.
"what do you want?" he growled
"Sir, we found this strange looking ant and an ant that...."
"Listen, Venu. I have my hands full of work this morning and I don'thave the time nor the inclination to listen to this story of ants.Make it very short."
"Sir, it is very rare species of ants"
"ok, put it along with the other insects".
"Now Sir, if I may point out.. we do not have any other insects".
"Whatever happened to the other members of the PFA?"
We came out dejected and depressed. I was going to mortally ruin all chances of Leela chechi's dream of getting into history books withthis rare find. I decided to confront Leela chechi with my findings on the issue.Leela chechi lived in a big house, half of which known only to the dogs and cats that lived there. I mean it took an excruciatingly painful, long search of the surrounding to find out where she was in the house. She was in the company of Sarala, another PFA member, whose husband was a building contractor. Sarala was what you called a 15 year old boy's dream, I mean, she had big muscles and even a faint ghost of a mustache. She and Leelachechi greeted me with wide grins, Leela chechi's being wider and broader. You would think if she didn't have ears at the side of her head, the ends of her lips would meet each other behind her head.
" know what, Venu?. Sarala's workers were painting the windows white and iron grills black. This irritated a colony of ants, which had colonised the crevice on the window. You know, these ants... when they are angry, they raise the back side in a show of temper, which rubbed against wet paint on the grill and window sill, leaving those black and white marks on their body. And I thought...hi..hi.. And youdingbat, you told the entire world that I made this silly mistake. You have a big mouth".
Yes, I needed a big mouth because that is where I kept my foot.
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