Its seems like only yesterday I was sitting down and making a list of the things I wont miss about home. Yet here I am, in my new ilaaka, mooching wifi off 'Bucks. (Ooh, he calls it 'Bucks, must be a reg.) FYI, I was looked over for a complimentary Green-Tea-Frappacino-Shot yesterday, which I know for a fact is YUCK but it was complementary. (Very recently I came to know the true meaning of complimentary, thanks to a new vocabulary app. It doesnt mean free!)
Why was I looked over? Ok, technically, I was looked at, then it was noticed that there wasnt any 'Bucks mug on my table. Because I didnt order a coffee, all thanks to the suddenly turned achoot Rs.500 in my pocket.
I return from my vegetable shopping for one (Rs. 15 worth), there was is a rat rustling through my garbage packet. I quickly knock on my neighbouring aunty/landlady's door and inform her of the happenings.
She looked at me, her eyebrows raised in concern, her eyes widened in surprise.
"Chooha hai?!" she enquired, since she could've misheard me.
"Haan aunty, chooha hai." i confirmed, so that she's not disappointed when she comes in to check, which as my concerned land lady, the flat being all of 3 days into its lease, she is certain of doing.
As I opened my door wider to make way for her passage, she turned her head towards her house and shouts "Ae Pakhya! (not real name, identity protected) Chooha hai, kehta hai. Kehta hai Chooha hai." Though I dont know who this was directed to, the reply came curt and prompt.
"Chooha? Nahin." (as if he would've obviously known, as its a thing to share)
This was enough to convince my land lady.
"Nahin hai Chooha" she echoed.
"Aunty abhi maine dekha" I pleaded.
"Vo tumne window khula rakkha hoga na isliye...band rakhne ka window..uske saamne waala kholo." "Aunty udhar kabootar hai" I reply, having obviously checked what was outside every window. "Haan vo chalega na".
Conversation concluded. She shut the door.
So the count was one rat, two kabootars, and an army of ants, for whom I'd already drawn three layers of "LakshmanRekhas" but obviously these naastik ants have never read Ramayana.
I must recall the story of the attempted assasination of mine at the legs of a spider. I woke up one of these mornings to find a fresh, intricate, shiny spider web on my helmet that I had laid down a couple of hours ago, the previous night. Bhai, kya results.
As I came to my helmet to marvel at this spider-made marvel, I saw a spider, not the spindly malnourished ones but the healthy-festive season diet kinds, right above the corner on my bed. After having my space invaded on by a rat and the ant army, the water was now above my head.
So first, I picked up my shoe. But then I realised I wanted my walls to remain the neat parrot green and not be branded by Nike (showoff). Dropping my shoe which I realised was my only mistake, because it alerted his spidey senses, or to him, just "senses". I stealthily picked up a three day old Mumbai Mirror, on which my friend '184' had conjured a "Spinach Salad" the night before and had forgotten to clean up. I approached the wall with trepidation, but at the same time convinced of my triumph.
Right at the pinnacle of this emotion, the spider jumped me. And jumped right onto my torso. I couldn't tell where. So I did what anyone with two yellow and one orange belt in martial arts would. I shrieked, jumped and made frantic hand movements all over my self before this spider went into my ear and laid eggs in my brain. It worked and as soon as the spider was spotted again, it was squashed.
Now you might say ki Karan ab bohot hua. Gayatri Mantra bolo aur so jao. I wish O'friend. How I wish. I must, before I sleep, tell you about Lucy. About how much she hates me. Like "She f*^#ing hates me".
Its been 4 days since but her bark still rattles my knees.
While I was still enquiring about the flat, my landlady had warned me that they had a dog. I said it was a non issue with the feel of "Chill Winstaaan" (Ilustration follows). I told her I had a dog for 17 years (Hail Caesar!!).
So, on the fateful night of the morning, when I had already foiled the attempted assassination at the legs of the spider, I left my flat to buy 4 eggs of which 2 I would break while negotiating a bread for one. As I got out, Lucy stood halfway up the stairs.
I looked at Lucy. Lucy looked at me. Lucy growled. I played it chill.
Lucy charged, her teeth bared the only way dogs and hyenas do. I stayed still.
Lucy ran straight into my leg. No bite, just a bump. Something like when you confidently are leaving a garden party and walk in straight into the glass door.
I still screamed "Arre Lucy!!".
Lucy scampered back up the stairs.
So much for The art of War. So fail.
I was up late in the night, reasoning this failed attempt by Lucy to bite me. And it took me all the physics I had learned till 10th grade and the physics I had slept through in Junior College and one year of engineering. I took a splash of Tsun Zu as well for it to all make sense.
Lucy, is a street dog, with street manners and street skills. No judgement being passed here. Meet her and you'll know. So Lucy is used to fighting on the streets. That is, level ground. Or pavement level, max. I dont think Guerrilla warfare was its forte. It had ever mounted an attack from an elevation like the stairs. So before it could bare it fangs to bite me, it had already squashed itself flat into my leg.
I guess we both walked away from it hurt. Lucy, her failed attack and her swollen snout/nose, and me, knowing that clearly Caesar's boo had worn off.
P.P: I was told to bribe Lucy's affections with Parle G or Icecream. Ghanta.
Why was I looked over? Ok, technically, I was looked at, then it was noticed that there wasnt any 'Bucks mug on my table. Because I didnt order a coffee, all thanks to the suddenly turned achoot Rs.500 in my pocket.
I return from my vegetable shopping for one (Rs. 15 worth), there was is a rat rustling through my garbage packet. I quickly knock on my neighbouring aunty/landlady's door and inform her of the happenings.
She looked at me, her eyebrows raised in concern, her eyes widened in surprise.
"Chooha hai?!" she enquired, since she could've misheard me.
"Haan aunty, chooha hai." i confirmed, so that she's not disappointed when she comes in to check, which as my concerned land lady, the flat being all of 3 days into its lease, she is certain of doing.
As I opened my door wider to make way for her passage, she turned her head towards her house and shouts "Ae Pakhya! (not real name, identity protected) Chooha hai, kehta hai. Kehta hai Chooha hai." Though I dont know who this was directed to, the reply came curt and prompt.
"Chooha? Nahin." (as if he would've obviously known, as its a thing to share)
This was enough to convince my land lady.
"Nahin hai Chooha" she echoed.
"Aunty abhi maine dekha" I pleaded.
"Vo tumne window khula rakkha hoga na isliye...band rakhne ka window..uske saamne waala kholo." "Aunty udhar kabootar hai" I reply, having obviously checked what was outside every window. "Haan vo chalega na".
Conversation concluded. She shut the door.
So the count was one rat, two kabootars, and an army of ants, for whom I'd already drawn three layers of "LakshmanRekhas" but obviously these naastik ants have never read Ramayana.
I must recall the story of the attempted assasination of mine at the legs of a spider. I woke up one of these mornings to find a fresh, intricate, shiny spider web on my helmet that I had laid down a couple of hours ago, the previous night. Bhai, kya results.
As I came to my helmet to marvel at this spider-made marvel, I saw a spider, not the spindly malnourished ones but the healthy-festive season diet kinds, right above the corner on my bed. After having my space invaded on by a rat and the ant army, the water was now above my head.
So first, I picked up my shoe. But then I realised I wanted my walls to remain the neat parrot green and not be branded by Nike (showoff). Dropping my shoe which I realised was my only mistake, because it alerted his spidey senses, or to him, just "senses". I stealthily picked up a three day old Mumbai Mirror, on which my friend '184' had conjured a "Spinach Salad" the night before and had forgotten to clean up. I approached the wall with trepidation, but at the same time convinced of my triumph.
Right at the pinnacle of this emotion, the spider jumped me. And jumped right onto my torso. I couldn't tell where. So I did what anyone with two yellow and one orange belt in martial arts would. I shrieked, jumped and made frantic hand movements all over my self before this spider went into my ear and laid eggs in my brain. It worked and as soon as the spider was spotted again, it was squashed.
Now you might say ki Karan ab bohot hua. Gayatri Mantra bolo aur so jao. I wish O'friend. How I wish. I must, before I sleep, tell you about Lucy. About how much she hates me. Like "She f*^#ing hates me".
Its been 4 days since but her bark still rattles my knees.
While I was still enquiring about the flat, my landlady had warned me that they had a dog. I said it was a non issue with the feel of "Chill Winstaaan" (Ilustration follows). I told her I had a dog for 17 years (Hail Caesar!!).
So, on the fateful night of the morning, when I had already foiled the attempted assassination at the legs of the spider, I left my flat to buy 4 eggs of which 2 I would break while negotiating a bread for one. As I got out, Lucy stood halfway up the stairs.
I looked at Lucy. Lucy looked at me. Lucy growled. I played it chill.
Lucy charged, her teeth bared the only way dogs and hyenas do. I stayed still.
Lucy ran straight into my leg. No bite, just a bump. Something like when you confidently are leaving a garden party and walk in straight into the glass door.
I still screamed "Arre Lucy!!".
Lucy scampered back up the stairs.
So much for The art of War. So fail.
I was up late in the night, reasoning this failed attempt by Lucy to bite me. And it took me all the physics I had learned till 10th grade and the physics I had slept through in Junior College and one year of engineering. I took a splash of Tsun Zu as well for it to all make sense.
Lucy, is a street dog, with street manners and street skills. No judgement being passed here. Meet her and you'll know. So Lucy is used to fighting on the streets. That is, level ground. Or pavement level, max. I dont think Guerrilla warfare was its forte. It had ever mounted an attack from an elevation like the stairs. So before it could bare it fangs to bite me, it had already squashed itself flat into my leg.
I guess we both walked away from it hurt. Lucy, her failed attack and her swollen snout/nose, and me, knowing that clearly Caesar's boo had worn off.
Look at those eyes, just brimming with rabies.
P.P: I was told to bribe Lucy's affections with Parle G or Icecream. Ghanta.
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