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Jessica Alba was hugging me from behind & she was munching on my left ear, while Deepika Padukone was feasting on my lips & my tongue. I did not know how I got sandwiched between these two dream-girls, but let me tell you, in that second of timelessness, my heart must have set some Universal Olympic record in thumping. Pleasure was poisoning my senses & a 9 inch nail was being hammered through my head…
Wait, what? I swung my arm violently. I reluctantly rubbed my eyes & opened them, slowly. A horrifying scene awaited me. My manager was holding his cheek with his left arm. I must have slapped him when he tried to wake me up!
He was too shocked to say anything, for now. But he was an evil monkey. In this amazingly shitty world, he was Tom & everybody else was Jerry for him. When he was only 8, he had actually threatened his father, that he’ll burn the house ownership documents/bonds, if his demands were not met. His father needed psychiatric help from the trauma of raising a son like him. But now a pink palm print was decorating his face, like a tramp stamp- a butterfly tattoo.
I needed to calm down & think. No matter how much power he had, as a superior, over me, he was basically, an idiot. I could talk my way out of this.
“Boss! Calm down,” I said slowly, “Have you ever felt that a cowardly employee like me, who is afraid of your shadow, can even dare to think of even touching you?”
Normally he was a man of many, many words & he’d tell nice (read irritating) quotes every 5 seconds- but now he was too shook up by the impact of the powerful slap- his brain had rocketed out to some South American country, & was being used as a football by some sadistic kids over there.
He just shook his head, answering my question.
“There you go!” I said, “This is not reality, it must be a dream! Yes, it’s a dream! Now run along, and try to enjoy your dream. Don’t Worry, be Happy, Boss!”
“Dream!” he mumbled as he walked slowly towards his cubicle, “I am dreaming…”
I took a big sigh of relief- this really was a close one! He probably came here to tell me to have lunch, early & to call up Mr. Nakamoora, our Japanese client. I went to invite Achala for lunch, the really hot girl who had joined our team, 3 months, 2 days & 3 hours ago. As I looked for her, I kept thinking of what I would say to her. “Nice jeans!” or “Nice earrings!” when I actually wanted to say “Nice lips!”
She was standing near her cubicle. As I raised my hand to say hello, I somehow hit the plant pot. I started jumping on one leg, with my hurt left leg in my right arm.
She giggled & said, “You never disappoint me!”
Sarcasm from the girl, who keeps mesmerizing (read tricking) me into doing all her work, wasn’t welcome. Just when I was about to tell her that, she got a call…
“Hi Raamu!” she said, “No, not now! I’m in office! Don’t talk like that… I’ll blush! No, no… you will not do anything like that while we see that movie. So what if you booked the corner tickets of balcony! No, you will not do that… What do you think I am? What! No! The right answer is, I’m a decent girl! What! Really? Ok, ok, you can do that then… “
She was giggling & blushing & giggling again. Her face had turned red. To save my dignity, or whatever had remained of it, I wanted to leave her cubicle before the rest of her body turned red.
When I was about to leave, she called me. “Lunch?” she asked.
“No yaar, I have a meeting with Mr. Nakamoora, our Japanese client” I said.
“I cooked today & brought more than I could eat,” she said blinking her big innocent eyes, “Don’t you want to try even a little?”
To hell with Mr. Nakamoora, I wanted to find out how well my future wife cooked! “Just a bite!” I said, smiling nervously.
As it turned out, only one bite was enough. After having only one bite, my lips started to swell. There was a tingling feeling in my lips as I heard her say, “Your lips look like Mr. Frog’s lips!”
“I am assuming Mr. Frog is some celebrity?” I asked acidly.
“Mr. Frog is a frog- I dissected him in my Biology lab” she said giggling. I was really getting irritated with her giggling.
I gave away my plate of food to my dear friend, Dustbin. He could eat anything any number of times, that’s why we called him Dustbin. I looked around my table. People were talking about politics, terrorism, movies, sports etc. I couldn’t get involved myself in any of the conversations.
“It was a color movie!” said Dustbin.
“No, it was a black & white movie, I’m sure of it” said Achala. They were discussing some movie.
“I remember very clearly that a snake was sitting on the steering wheel & driving a yellow car” said Dustbin, “I was like, how the hell, does it change gears & apply brakes, and in that traffic!”
“It was a black & white movie!” Achala said raising her voice, “I have seen that movie so many times on TV”
“Maybe the TV, in which you saw the movie, was black & white!” I said smiling. Dustbin laughed hysterically. But nobody else did. And I was pretty sure Achala was mad at me.
“You know the girl who had a crush on you, Veena?” Dustbin told me, “She resigned yesterday…”
“Veena had a crush on me? That’s news to me!” I was pleasantly surprised.
“She resigned, that’s the news, buddy” he said.
It was getting late, so I went to the conference room & dialed Mr. Nakamoora. He answered with a sunny “Mooshimoosh” or something. He was a happy man & I liked him.
I said “Good Morning!” in Japanese.
“Whaat deed yooo say about my seester?” he asked in a shocked voice.
He probably misheard me. So, I said “Good Morning!” in Japanese, again.
He started yelling, some of the choicest abuse words in Japanese, no doubt, in a very manly and menacing voice. I must have pronounced it wrong because of my swollen lips. I tried to apologize, but he never stopped yelling, not even to take a breath. I tried to send him a mail to apologize, but I was unable login my Outlook account.
I called Dustbin. He looked at me like I was the man who stole his lollypop when he was a baby.
“What happened?” he asked, “I was sleeping, you know!”
“I am unable to log into my Outlook account” I said, “It says my password is wrong & I am sure the password is correct!”
He looked at the speaker-phone & said, “That Japanese dude is telling that your wife is bald & has a moustache, much manlier than yours!”
“Let’s go to the next room” I said in a distressed voice.
“Well, I think I said something to Mr. Nakamoora” I said when we reached the next room.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but he was very upset about it!” I said.
He started laughing. “You go to the doctor & get your Angelina Jolie lips checked up. I’ll take care of things here.” he said.
A friend in need is a friend indeed. It maybe that I could never understand girls, but Dustbin was a guy I could understand & trust. He really was a nice guy. Life would have been so much better if I was gay. I wouldn’t have to worry about understanding girls!
“Dude, I’m getting gay vibes from you!” he said in an alarmed voice.
“I was just thinking that if I was gay, & if you were gay & if we both liked each other,” I smiled, “Life would be so simple!”
“Dude! Stay away from me!” he said, “Life would be simpler, only if girls were not just a binary executable. I mean, where’s the source code, man! They have too many bugs & no source code to debug & correct it & no compiler to rebuild them!”
His technical analysis was worse than the technical words used by my Japanese friend, Mr. Nakamoora. I flashed my employee id badge at the conference room door, in a thoughtful mood. The light turned green & I walked towards the lift. I flashed my badge at the lift button, but it didn’t turn green. I was baffled. The lift must be malfunctioning, I concluded.
The security guard came & pressed the lift button. It turned green. I smiled at him & laughed at myself. Was I doing the same thing with people, with my loved ones & my life? Was I flashing my identity badge, when I was just supposed to press the damn button?
I walked into the lift. As the 2 doors closed I could see that someone had drawn a man on one door & a woman on the other door with a permanent marker, with great effort. When the doors closed, the 2 sketches merged into a single piece of beautiful art- the man kissing the woman.
“Even the man in the lift door sketch is having more fun than me!” I thought.
Really, the man in the sketch was having a better time. He knew exactly what was going to happen. No matter how long the door wasn’t in his favorable position, it was going to change, & soon. He’d kiss the girl he loved, eventually & repeatedly. Sure, she wasn’t Mona Lisa or Shakunthala in her beauty of art, but she faithfully waited for him, understood him. She loved him & every time he was lonely, she gave him the best of her hugs & kisses & made him happy. No wonder the man loved her, & never looked at other girls in the lift!
Man, what am I thinking! I really must be going crazy! I managed to laugh at myself & headed towards the clinic.
At the clinic, Veena was sitting at the visitor’s lounge. She called my name in a happy voice, though she coughed like three or four times while she called my name once, but her delight was evident.
I greeted her too.
“It looks good on you!” she said.
“My Angelina Jolie lips?” I smiled.
“No I meant your shirt. It’s new isn’t it?” she asked. She was the only person who noticed I was wearing a new shirt. Not even Dustbin noticed it.
“It is!” I said, with a rare genuine smile on my face, “How did you know?”
“Well…” she blushed.
I thanked God that she didn’t know how insecure & lonely & how big an asshole I really was.
Well, the fact is I didn’t really trust Dustbin to take care of things for me, so I went to office at 1pm. I couldn’t come earlier because of my date with Veena. I’m sure you are all wondering how it went. Fortunately, I broke many of my trademark traditions & it was a big success!
As I was saying, I went to conference room & I could clearly hear Mr. Nakamoora still yelling.
“Mr. Nakamoora Sir, it’s 1pm in India,” I said, “It must be very late in Japan, or rather, very early, maybe it’s morning already…”
“Rearreee?” he asked, “We continue tomorrow?“
“I would love to!” I said & gulped. I also said Good Night in Japanese.
“Whaat deed yooo say about my seester’s seester?” he asked in a shocked voice.
“Oh God!” I exhaled and pressed the button of conference room…
write by Amory