Jungtina Jamir
I wake up in the A.M; rub my eyes as I walk barefoot around the house looking for my tea cup. “Where did I keep it?”. About 8 minutes later I find it in the kennel. My dogs found something to chew on. “Darn, I must have kept it in the garden yestermorning”. After having a cup of tea, (in my mom’s cup) it’s now showering time. I find it quite amusing that when I sing in the bathroom the dogs howl and my mom yells from outside telling me to shut up. “Poor Dogs”. Anyway, after hurting some few ears, I dust myself in lots and lots of baby powder that sometimes I get lost in a powder storm in my room. I feel the walls with my hand for the fan switch. “Darn, no lights!”. So what do I do? I grab a copy of The Morung Express that’s usually on my bed, and I fan the small storm away. I get dressed in my old jeans, an old t-shirt and my favorite old Converse; mom swears to burn them all when I am not around. But I think I look and smell nice enough to break a few hearts on my way to office.
I stumble out to grab an auto, or better, walk to office. After reaching the junction I turn back home for my phone. I often forget that I have a phone. But only because I don’t get calls. Mom is the only person that calls me!! Mom grins as I come back home. She asks, “Phone?”. I say, “Yea”. Kissing her kissable cheeks I say bye-bye as I head back in the direction I was going earlier.
I reach Char-ali Junction. “Why is everyone staring at me? Hmmm… I guess I do look really pretty today. I see a barber shop ahead. They have huge mirrors. Maybe I’ll take a peek”.
“Goodness, look at me! My hair is brown, my t-shirt is brown; I am brown. In the words of the wise: I look like I have been dug out from grave just now. You see, our colony road is so bad that you’ll imagine walking the Sahara desert is but kids play. Clouds of dust on every step you take. No rickshaws or autos want to enter our colony. You’ll literally be holding your stomach even if you are in a car. That bad!
Anyway, I reach City Tower junction and I hear a car honking at me. I don’t look back. I keep walking; and the horn keeps honking. “Wow, some cute guy wants to give me a lift to office”. I look back! It’s our dear editor. The one face I see everyday! I smile lazily at the circumstance as I gestures him to go on without me
Not too long from what happened, deja vu again! Horn honking at me. “This time it’s a real cute guy who wants to give me a lift to office”. I look back. It’s my dad! I look up to the heavens and mummers, “Ok. Ok. Second time is not a co-incidence. God! You win”.
Working on the computer is something I like. That’s my job! It’s interesting to look at our journalists talking to big and important people on the phone. “Darn, even the supposedly big important people call up at our office asking if s/he could talk to one of our journalist. Lucky fools”. I wish I could talk on the phone like our journalists here.
It is said that there is always a saving grace to unfulfilled wishes. I did get to answer the phone in the office one day; especially the questions of a man who was too dumb to read a manual; only to find out that he dialed the wrong number and I was talking to the wrong person. I don’t pick up the phone anymore.
I spend the tea-break on thoughts of warm cheese pizzas (yummy) and ignoring the chitchat of people sitting around who are actually talking about me! “Look at her”, says one. “She is so brown today, look at her hair…its all fuzzy and blown out”, says another. “Hmmm…and I was still thinking that I looked really pretty”
At the P.M, I get called to the editor’s office, effectively breaking the pencil I was twirling as I remember what I forgot. I am supposed to make the layout for tomorrow’s edition!! So I listen to crazy metal songs again and again until it makes my colleagues puke. But who cares? *grinning evil*
I finished my layout in time.
I smooth down my fuzzy-blown-out hair (because of this mornings adventure + head banging on metal music) on my way downstairs, to the news and graphic room. Colleagues are yelling: news this and news that. I stare, wondering if they know they look like gorillas’ fighting over who is ugliest. I startle them when they hear me shout, “If you don’t shut up you’re going to be fired or we could make a deal.” I remind them politely that I am only kidding. They all smile carelessly, and I move towards the door, turning around to tell them, “I am not kidding”. Breaking the chair over my head is just an early Christmas bonus!!!
Its now midnight, I drag home slowly, enjoying the moonless night, never noticing that dog shit until it’s too late. Eesshh!!
My mom will be petrified to open the door to a dirty- fuzzy-blown-out brown figure on the porch. More over she’ll be annoyed to smell the pong on me.
What a tepid day! But at least the dogs will be happy to know that I can sleep outside with them.
