Gawd I hate Monsieur Murphy. Why is he always right!!!
So things got screwed up BADLY. Everything went exactly the way it was not supposed to.
Plan B coming up for next weekend. This time the plan will be foolproof (despite my presence).
Naa.. this aint about the season summer or has anything to do with agriculture.
My early years were spent with my hair never even reaching half the length of my forehead. Agreed my forehead leaves a lot of ground to cover nowadays, but it used to be quite little back in school.
We had this rule in our school where boys were not supposed to have long hair. There was no definition of that “long”. The principal used to come and grab the hair and if it used to come over the fingers it was long. The punishment was she would tie the guy’s hair with a rubber band if it was way too long. There were also threats issued that she would get scissors and cut the hair herself, but I guess she never trusted her hair styling skills.
Now the way my folks used to deal with this was the magic words that they gave me. These magic words had to be uttered without blinking, no second thoughts given, no options no lifelines. These magic words were “Summer Crop”. They had to be uttered whenever I went to the salon for a haircut.
“Amma what should I say at the salon?”
“That’s it. What does it look like? “
“You don’t have to worry about it. He’ll know what to do.”
I used to go to the salon and say those words and the bhaiyya would give me a cheerful paan stained smile. He then proceeded to cut my hair so small you could see my scalp if you looked carefully.
Now these magic words served a dual purpose. Apart from saving my hair from the principals styling skills, it also made sure that I won’t have to cut my hair for the next 2 months. Yea, a penny saved is a penny earned holds true very much.
Gawd this thing became so popular that the salon guy started calling me summer crop.
But this was a thing of the past. School had to get over sometime and I now have full control of my hair. This hasn’t stopped my mom giving me a weird look and asking me “Are you sure you cut your hair? Or did you just pay the salon guy and forgot to get the haircut?”
Anyways, I am gonna party with my hair for now. Kisse pata kal ho na ho :)
SLAP!!! AARGH!! SLAP! SLAP! SLLLAAAP!!!
If there is one thing in this world that I hate, no wait, loathe wouldn’t be too strong a word would it? It has to be mosquitoes. I cannot bear the sight of those damn things. They have no respect for your privacy; they poke their blood sucking apparatus on any part of the body that is mildly exposed to air.
I cannot imagine a single reason for their existence. They are not a significant part of the food chain. Maybe 1% of them would end up as food for other insects and birds. They don’t help pollinate plants or hold a secret cure for cancer. They are worthless creatures who don’t have any purpose in this world. Maybe you can use them to encourage Rakhi Sawant to wear clothes again.
They buzz in your ears after you have turned off the lights and are about to save Priyanka Chopra from Shakti Kapoor and his goons (ooh.. that one still gives me goosebumps J). They hover around your head like millions of tiny vicious spacecrafts. They make you look stupid in front of gorgeous women as you try hard to get the one irritating you and slap yourself instead.
They kill poor innocent people who have caused them no harm. Malaria is the single biggest killer in the world. It has killed more people than wars.
The only way to stop this menace is to create awareness. People should know that the way they wash their car or utensils on the street can lead to a puddle, which can act as a playschool for the larvae of these tiny little rascals. A drive on the scale of the polio eradication drive by the health ministry would be an awesome start. Clean streets and closed sewers would be welcome.
Ah I still remember how we used to run around the fogger guy, who used to roam around the neighborhood fogging open drains. We never had any idea how important his work was. I miss that sight on the streets nowadays. There is no one to take care of this nuisance.
God I wish I could see the day when my grandchildren would be visiting a museum to see an exhibit called “Mosquito - A pest from the old world. Last living sample seen in mid-21st Century”.
I sit with my head in my hands.
How god!! How did this happen!!
I was not even near any chance of it happening, so how the hell did it happen to me.
I am sure at some time or the other you have been plagued with the syndrome called “Sticky Song”. It happens without warning.
There you are minding your everyday business, typing away to coding glory and making colorful excel sheets when suddenly it hits you.
Where did it come from? It’s been so long since u heard it. And it is not even in the charts currently. Hell you don’t even like it to begin with. But there it is now, inflicting you with its miserable company.
It’s a sticky one alright. You try and listen to something else that you like, something that won’t embarrass you if people know you are singing it, coz it has to be some cheap item number. But NO!! If it were that easy I won’t be writing a post about it.
The purpose of the song was to make you think about it at the most inopportune moment. When you are trying to decide if the “for loop” should be greater than or greater-than-equal-to, when you are at a meeting and people ask you for the weekly report. It doesn’t help that the song has lyrics referring to various acts that would have the moral police ready with an ass and a bottle of ink. But the tune is stuck to your head like the bubblegum you class mate put in your hair in 2nd grade. They had to cut your hair to remove it. Maybe you will need a head-en-ectomy to cure yourself of this disease.
So it sits there in your head now. You can’t do anything but pray. Pray if u cud switch lives with the bald 40 year old bachelor next cubicle who probably won’t know this song as he listens to only South Indian “aapu” paatu.
And there it goes. As suddenly as it entered your head, it goes, leaving you shocked. Did you actually like it? Naaah…. You try to put the song back in your head, cautiously. But it doesn’t stay. It falls right off.
It feels like a burden has been lifted from your head. Now life can be normal again.
But its not gonna be easy next time on!! The rate at which bollywood is going the frequency of the attacks are only going to increase.
BEWARE the Sticky song cometh!!