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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 on...
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Ambition

“Do you have any ambition?” asked my friend the politician. “No, it’s not within my ambit,” I replied shaking my head. “Ant bite?” he asked puzzled, “where did it bite you?” “It’s not within an ant’s ambit,” I said stiffly, “to be able to get away after sucking on my hoard of lollipops.” “Are you any wis er for being such a miser?” he questioned. “I’m not a miser, black marketeer or a racketeer,” I protested. “You mean none of the above,” the politician asked disparagingly, “That means you suck on your big toe to make ends meet.” “I can see a lollipop end to end,” I replied. “You mean the end justifies the means?” he asked. “I believe in happy endings for lollipops,” I said. “Are you herbivorous?” he asked suspiciously. “That’s an asinine thing to say,” I protested. “Are you calling me an ass?” the politician demanded. “Not if you chew the cud,” I replied. “Are you calling me a cow?” he asked ann oyed. “Not if you take the b...
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Party Time

The politician was sitting with a glum face. "Why are you so gloomy?" I asked. "Not much partying these days," he replied with a sigh. "But you were thrown out of two late night parties very recently!" I exclaimed. "Not those parties," he said shaking his head morosely. "You mean the birthday bash of the film star?" I asked brightly. "Don't remind me of it," he growled. "What happened?" I asked mildly. "My false teeth got bashed up!" he said peeved. "Then you must have done something really wicked," I smirked. "What's that to you?" He retorted. "Therefore no partying," I concluded. "I meant I am feeling lonely," He said. "Then simply call your women friends," I said. "Not that, I'm feeling stifled," he said. "Choked?" I asked incredulously. He nodded his head fe...
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Red Light and The Politician

I was alarmed at the loud cries I heard from within as I knocked on the politician's door. "Boo! Hoo! Give me your shoulder to cry on," he said unlocking the door for me. "What's wrong?" I asked genuinely concerned. "What's wrong?" He exclaimed, "They have taken away my greatest treasure!" "But I thought all your ill-gotten gains were in Swizz Bank deposits," I said surprised. "No, no they are trifles to what I have lost," he cried beating his chest. "Don't do that," I said alarmed, "or your heart beat will go up." "Let my heart, liver, stomach beat about the bush for all I care!" he howled inconsolably. "Shall I call the doctor?" I asked not knowing what to do. "No, there's nothing he can do," he shook his head dejectedly. "There's always hope," I said soothingly, "At least he can recommend that y...
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The Law and the Politician

"The Law will take its own course," announced the politician pompously. "And, you will take your own, won't you Sir?" His adviser asked anxiously. "I have all courses ready," the politician grinned, "three years, five years, 12 years and ad infinitum. I particularly like ad infinitum. His adviser smiled reassured. "I was worried for a moment, Sir. I'm very worried about the press." "Huh! Fourth Estate! Some day, I will add them to my vast estates," the politician said with contempt. "Why don't you do that, Sir? It would tell them! " "The press are puppets and I'm the puppet master," the politician retorted contemptuously. "All you have to do is buy majority stocks in newspapers and you can then easily become a slave master," the official said obsequiously. ""Driver," the politician interjected, "I did a driving course once." ...
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Boredom

Cupid you must have heard of, the impish little fellow with a bow and arrow that is forever shadowing lovers. He has a cousin who is less well known. It is Boredom. He wields a blowpipe with which he wreaks mayhem, shooting darts at people who have little to do but twiddle their thumbs all day. The day came when the office was able to see my boots darken its doorstep for the last time. There was also a chorus wishing me a ‘happy retired life’. I nodded happily all around little knowing what I was letting myself in for.  At home I unpacked the goodbye presents and was thrilled to see that one was a microwave oven and another a dinner set. I also got a box of sweets. My elder daughter immediately confiscated them saying that it was too bad that I could not have them. She does not like sweets either, so I did not know what she did with them. The day after was glorious. The alarm did go off, but I put in on snooze. I put it back on snooze again after it rang. Then I swi...
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The Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

I was amazed to find a sheep baying at the moon. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Shh!" he hissed," I'm imitating a wolf." "I beg your pardon?" I asked. "I'm imitating a wolf," he repeated sheepishly. "Why?" I asked bluntly. "Because wolves prey," he said. "They say their prayers, do they?" I asked amazed. "Baa! "And, you like the moon?" I asked. "Baa," he snarled going back to the wolf routine. "So you are a sheep in wolves clothing?" "It's the latest fashion," he replied. "Do you always horn in?" I asked wishing to be illuminated. "No, I only honk it," the sheep replied. "I meant do you gatecrash parties?" I asked. "Wolves love to," he said. "Oh! Wolves have a love life!" I exclaimed. "They love sheep," he said morosel...
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Middle Distance Again

There is a middle distance one stares into when the mouth opens slowly and the jaw drops to the chest contentedly. There are many moments in life when this happens. There are some who are very gifted in the art. The head drooping also occurs on public transport in Kolkata. While you hang onto the bus handle as the man behind you pushes forward with his paunch and the chap to your left treads sadistically on the little toe, the person sitting on the right seems to go into a trance. You look at him fiendishly and wipe your brow for the nineteenth  time. The man remains thus even when you are unceremoniously ejected back onto the street. Then there are others who stare out of the bus windows at nothing in particular, except when their eyes alight on a pretty woman. You cannot mistake that look. It is the middle distance gazer at his best. He is unperturbed as you sway and get pummelled by fellow travellers as the driver tries to think he is in a grand prix. It’s not ...
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