This had to be done... There aren't enough cynics around

Tower and Inferno

It was one of those extremely rare mornings where there was no compromise… Now that I have run out of excuses (read entrance exams) to skip anything coming even remotely under the purview of physical exercise, everyday dawned with a debate. Often, I ended up compromising walking with just waking, but today, that possibility was ruined. No matter how hard I tried, I could not feign sleeping past 9AM, which by my standards is midnight and in my religion blasphemy.

Once my phone was fully charged, I set out to challenge my BMI which now placed me in ‘mortal peril’ (interested medicos are requested to check the new guidelines). A few steps later, the right speaker went off…sathiya sodhanai.  Thanks to the bad omen I instantly returned home, but promised myself I would take another shot later. After reading a couple of confessions each from the multitude of ever mushrooming pages, I felt sorry. School kids wanting to ‘get physical’, whimsical college proposals, hate messages, bitch fights… it was a typical K. Jo scenario-minus the cue music.

As much as I wanted to ‘confess’ to the kids that ‘getting intimately physical’ at 15 was a punishable offence that could land the guy in prison for 20 years and leave the girl at risk of carcinoma cervix, I realized it was none of my business and I certainly did not want abusive expletives from the ‘skewl’ going ‘kids’. Brunch time meant I could keep up my physical exercise on my way to get burger and fries (ironic eh?) and as I stepped in the park (again), I could see the romance in the air, but it smelled like bird shit. Seriously, guys? At Noon? So much for people investing so much faith in us...

After helping a lady get on to her feet after a fall, and prescribing her a basic drug for pain, I sped off when she questioned about my ‘specialty’. Sarcasm was not the answer she was looking for, and I was too angry to sit and explain my predicament. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that in India, might is right, but not as right as money which is almost as right as a few fundamentalist organisations that are interested in head counts-as votes or otherwise.

The way back was just as much fun. Not having retired bureaucrats talk about the bad system was rather relieving. One of these evenings, I am planning on asking those half trouser uncles about what nail they plucked when they were IAS officers-a point they proudly state and rather loudly too. No seriously, if you walk past them for 2 seconds, you will distinctly hear one of them say ‘…in my days as a secretary to MGR…” so loud that you wouldn’t miss it 20 feet and 10 seconds later.

There were no abysmal badminton players and Nehwal wannabes making a seasoned campaigner like me (?!) want to gouge my eye off. There were no third wheels, or chaperones as I like to call them… I missed watching their discerning effort to not look out of place. There were no cute kids that despite their nil effort were the ones that lit up the park and brought life to the BGM played. This time there were just the college bunkers, pairs that had time to kill in the present with possibly no idea for the future. And then there was…