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 on...
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.
The girl shook her little head vigorously. "I don't accept chocolates from strangers, especially bald ones."
"You shouldn't call the gentleman bald," the mother said, "his head only looks like the moon rising above the earth!"
"Are you the man in the moon?" the little girl asked surprised.
"No Neil Armstrong was there first," I told her informatively.
"Was he bald too?" asked the little girl eagerly.
"I don't know. It's hard to say what he had under his space helmet," I said thoughtfully.
"Do they send baldies to space?" asked the little girl inquisitively.
"I wouldn't know, they didn't tell me," I replied truthfully.
"They wouldn't tell bald people anyway," the girl said reproachfully.
"But that would be discrimination!" her mother cried.
"Yes the West is known for discrimination," I sighed and asked the little girl, "Don't you want a chocolate?"
"No, I told you I don't accept chocolates from bald dodos!"
"I still have a few hairs left and dodos don't," I protested.
"How many?" she demanded.
"About seven," I replied.
"Do you count them every morning?" the little girl questioned.
"Yes meticulously," I replied.
"You have a face just like a horse," the little girl said carrying the conversation forward.
'You mustn't look at a gift horse in the mouth," the mother told her hastily.
"His face does look like a horse," the little girl said with certainty.
"No, he looks more like an ass to me," her mother said peering closely, "might also have an asinine streak."
"And, coughs like a sheep! Heh! Heh! The little girl said gleefully.
"Ha! Ha! The mother said mirthfully, "we can give him some cough syrup too!"
"But you threw it away because it was past the expiry date," the girl reminded her mother.
"It must still be in the dustbin, the maid forgot to clean it," the mother said remembering.
"Shall I get it?" asked the little girl eagerly.
"It would be better to get a vet to inoculate him," her mother replied, "They have syringes with five-inch needles for that sort of thing."
"You can't inject cough syrup!" I tried to get a word in.
"It can be an experiment. Don't scientists experiment?" she asked.
"But not on bald eagles," I said hastily.
"Eagle, my foot, you couldn't see as far as the doormat!" Her mother said accusingly.
"I can when I'm wearing my glasses," I replied heatedly.
"But he can see shops selling chocolates," the little girl pointed out.
"No, no, I can sniff them from a mile," I corrected.
"Senile, more likely," her mother said sarcastically.
"I will not see the Nile, I don't like Egyptian sarcophagi."
"I meant senile," the mother said.
"I won't," I said stamping my foot and accidentally trod on her foot.
"That's molestation," the mother exclaimed uncouthly.
"Help! Police!" shouted the little girl as I took to my heels.
"You forgot the chocolate," the shopkeeper shouted after me.
"Stuff it up the backside of the man in the moon," I yelled back.
"I can't, its posterior is always turned away from earth," he said shaking his head in disagreement.
Comments
Post a Comment