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Showing posts from April, 2017

Sundays

There was a time when I waited for Sunday. After a week of work, and I worked hard, a day of rest  was very welcome. I loved to sleep.  I am not an atheist, and I go to church maybe once a year for  midnight mass on Christmas eve. So I'm not a churchgoer basically. Therefore Sundays did not mean  that I was seated in the pews in church listening to the pastor's sermon.  The pastor, in fact,  would not recognise me until my sister, who goes more often to church, introduced me as her brother  after Christmas Eve mass. I also had a problem sleeping and would lie awake at nights trying desperately trying to fall asleep. I tried counting sheep and it never worked. I also tried those sleeping videos on YouTube. I listened  \ and felt bored. They were not music I was familiar with and they kept my eyelids firmly apart. Even a safe  tranquillizer that my doctor prescribed did not have any effect. The only thing to do then was to switch on

The New Maid

"Why didn't you tell me before?" asked the new maid confronting me. "Tell you what?" I asked. "Don't put on that innocent look!" she said sharply. "After sixty all men return to the Age of Innocence," I replied candidly. "Haven't I seen them all!" the new maid said contemptuously. "You must have good eyesight!" I said appreciatively. "I also have eyes in the back of my head when I work for duffers like you," she said mockingly. "I resent being called a duffer; at the most, I dodder and dawdle," I replied annoyed. "But why didn't you tell me earlier?" she admonished. "That I dodder and dawdle?" I asked. "No! No!" She cried, "You must have been doing that since the age of two." "Certainly not, I only tottered at fifty-nine and began to dodder and dawdle when I slipped on a banana peel two years later,&qu

The Cat's Girlfriend

"I think I have fallen in love," the cat said rubbing his head against my leg. "Who is it this time?" I questioned. "What do you mean this time?" he asked making his perfectly round eyes, rounder. "There were so many other times," I reminded him. "Mere passing fads," he said nonchalantly. "How many females did you go around with in your earlier lives," I asked. He began to count on his paws and then stopped. "I've just had three lives so far and I lost count." "You must be one hell of a Romeo!" I exclaimed. "There is no dearth of Juliets," he remarked twirling his whiskers. "Don't do that," I said irritably. "Big game hunters always do it," he said. "All you hunt are mice and then let them go," I said disgustedly. "I have lost my appetite for mice after I turned gourmand," he remarked. "Where

The TV and the Smart Phone

The TV gave me a wink. "Hey," he said giving me another wink. I ignored him as I kept browsing on my smartphone. "Don't disturb him, can't you see that he is busy?" the mobile phone said. "He is always fondling you," the TV said enviously. "Not always. Sometimes he prefers laptops," the smartphone replied. "Gentlemen prefer blondes," the TV said. "Not if they have a smartphone." "I know what they do with their smartphones," the TV said. "What?" asked the mobile phone. "They watch dirty pictures," the TV said. "Yes if their screens are dirty," the smartphone conceded. "And, smut videos too when no one is watching," the TV said knowingly. "They need to be watched!" the smartphone said. "Have you taken leave of your census!" exclaimed the TV. "No, baby booms take place only when there is no

Of Bald Men and Little Girls

I was in the shop looking for chocolates. The little girl who was there with her mother looked me up and down. "Hello baldy," she said by way of greeting. Her mother looked horrified."You mustn't say that!" "But he is bald as a coot. I wonder if he is toothless too!" The little girl wondered aloud. I cleared my throat. "I have a few left," I said. "Where is that?" she asked suspiciously. "Mostly at the back," I replied truthfully. "You can't have any left at your age," the little girl said contemptuously. Her mother looked helplessly at me. "Don't mind her. She is just precocious." "Is she Caucasian?" I asked in surprised. "I thought they lived in very cold places." "My daughter is not a Caucasian, she is just very intelligent," her mother said indulgently. "And, she likes chocolates?" I asked amused.

Conversation with the Cat Again

'Another Sunday', I told myself as I crawled out of the bed on all fours. I scuttled sideways as the Cat also got off the bed. "Watch where you're going mate," he said giving me a left hook. "Hooker!" I exclaimed indignantly. "I'm a Southpaw," he exclaimed treading on my left toe. "Watch where you are going pal," I said as I watched the toe turn purple. "I'm going to get breakfast," the Cat said. "I don't have mice in the fridge," I said sourly. "I don't like leftovers anyway," said the Cat. I was still on all fours trying to disentangle myself from the bed sheet. "And, switch off the AC," I told the Cat. "Nah," he replied, "Just have a look at the thermometer will you?" "I'm not sick," I replied miffed. "You will be if my breakfast is not ready in ten minutes," the Cat said piqued.

The Dragon and Adam and Eve

The Dragon arrogantly swelled his chest as he had a look at the apple orchard in Paradise. "This was historically mine," he said covetously. Eve came out from among the apple-laden trees. "What are you mumbling about, swine?" "I'm not porcine by a long shot," the Dragon snarled wisps of smoke coming out from his nostrils. "You are not pig-headed then?" Adam asked genially joining his better half. "Never," he hissed. "Then why were you eyeing our apple orchard with your avaricious little slit eyes?" Eve asked sweetly. "That was historically mine," the monster said greedily. "You read history do you?" asked Eve. "Yes I have a large library on World History," he replied snobbishly. "Ha! Ha! Cackled  Eve. "He! He! Chuckled Adam. "What are you two giggling about?" the  Dragon asked annoyed. "History hasn't been creat

The Ghost and I

I finished reading the ghost story and switched off the night lamp. I sighed and adjusted the bed sheet before settling in. "Hi," said the spook materialising slowly in the corner of the room and drifting towards me. "Are you a ghost?" I asked alarmed wishing I had kept the night lamp switched on. "Yes, I'm a spook," he replied proudly, "and a barber to boot." "Were you a hair stylist?" I asked a bit apprehensively wondering what sort of an apparition this was. "Yes I was," replied the spook dressed in flowing white robes. "Then why did you leave such a profitable business?" I asked. "Most of my customers were bald and only wanted a shave," he replied regretfully. "Bald patrons are not good for business then?" I questioned. "The Bald came before the original egg," he replied informatively. "You mean before The Big Bang?" I enquired,

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Ambition

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Sundays

There was a time when I waited for Sunday. After a week of work, and I worked hard, a day of rest  was very welcome. I loved to sleep.  I am not an atheist, and I go to church maybe once a year for  midnight mass on Christmas eve. So I'm not a churchgoer basically. Therefore Sundays did not mean  that I was seated in the pews in church listening to the pastor's sermon.  The pastor, in fact,  would not recognise me until my sister, who goes more often to church, introduced me as her brother  after Christmas Eve mass. I also had a problem sleeping and would lie awake at nights trying desperately trying to fall asleep. I tried counting sheep and it never worked. I also tried those sleeping videos on YouTube. I listened  \ and felt bored. They were not music I was familiar with and they kept my eyelids firmly apart. Even a safe  tranquillizer that my doctor prescribed did not have any effect. The only thing to do then was to switch on

The Lunatic

“Are you looping the loop again?” I asked the neighborhood lunatic. “Yes, it’s hard work,” he said wiping his brow after climbing down the lamp post for the eighteenth time. “What do you see up there?” I asked him. “I ensure that the lamp posts are going out on regular dates,” he said. “Do they go out? They can’t be of much use at night then,” I remarked. “No, no,” the lunatic corrected me, “they go out dating.” “Lamp posts go out dating!” I exclaimed. “They all have their secret love lives,” the nut said nodding his head, “they can’t always be like the young cad who stood on the burning deck.” “Do lamp posts burn the candle at both ends?” I asked eagerly. “When the bulbs kick the bucket, they have to get candles from the grocers at a premium,” the fellow said, “the grocers make a quick buck  when the lamp posts are fumbling about in the dark looking for loose change.” “You can spare some loose change for the lamp posts,” I suggested. “I ca