Summers are finally here. And you know what that means....free tan! Okay not exactly.
This space has been a bit inactive of late. Curse this sudden onset of the dry season which has in all probability depleted me of my enthusiasm to write. Hence I've sought to remedy this predicament by seeking a guest writer's help. Without further ado, let me introduce you to Pratul Bagri who blogs at Another World and who has come up with this fine humor post at my behest. Thank you Pratul. Over to you.
For the likes of Barney Stinson it is the season of exposed skin. It is the time when females would be sighted during the daytime in trademark spaghetti straps and short skirts, causing a hormone-induced state of unrest in the male species.
As for me I am gearing up for the heavenly experience of being stuck in a traffic snarl at 2 p.m., when the holy fumes of petrol hinder my otherwise normal breathing processes and the unnecessary honking of horns provide unwelcome music for my ears. Some hot-headed, moronic drivers also present me with a golden opportunity of improvising my slang vocabulary at such a time. The headache from the heat gives me the time to think about the headache from the heat.
It is the time when I discover to my utter dismay that some clothes don't fit me anymore due to the weight I have gained lazing around in the winters. It is the time when I seriously consider the idea of jogging, then think about actually doing it and eventually give up on the ambition.
The thing I hate most about summers is that we have unwanted guests. Like.... Lizards, Cockroaches, Ants. Aunts. Did I mention LIZARDS?
You must be wondering about the deal with lizards and me. Why do I hate 'em? Well the incident dates back to a few months in the past.
On a pleasant afternoon, I entered my room and saw a lizard leaning on my wall. MY WALL!
Me (Like a boss): Hey creep get outta here!
Lizard: These yours?
Me: Yeah, mine. Why am I answering you? Get outta my room.
The lizard kept looking at me. From the evil glint in its eyes I knew it was planning something sinister. I realized immediately that the lizard was a JB fan. Just my luck! There was no escape now.
A couple of unsightly pair of reptilian feet let go of my wall and the thing fell on me. I lost my balance and fell down in turn. The lizard caught hold of my neck and started strangling me, like a madman. (although technically speaking it can't be a man) The torture didn't stop there 'cause it started banging its head against mine as well. The pain was unbearable. My brain tried thinking of every escape route possible and then something clicked.
I spit on the lizard. Disgusted by my action it got off me. I grabbed the opportunity and kicked the damn thing in the shins. *silence*
Revenge will be taken...it will be.
Next thing I saw was the lizard on its knees holding its crotch, immobilized by the pain, unable to even scream. I was panting, it was time to finish this off. I turned around to grab a big book to hit the lizard. As soon as I turned my back it was gone. I searched every where but couldn't find it. This incident instilled insecurities in me, sometimes I feel I am being followed, sometimes I feel that my phone has been tapped. Maybe I am being paranoid or turning into a conspiracy theorist.
But I know one thing for sure, the next time we meet only one would survive. And I've been patiently awaiting my chance ever since.
It could also be that my hatred for lizards is a concept that has been incepted into my subconscious by Dom Cobb.