Stadium Fartadium...

The last hour of Saturday. A week that left me like a broken ship that is about to reach the shore after a travel of storms and cyclones. I had painted a completely different picture about my summers in Surat. Yet, I sit with my palm on my cheek, my hopes still alive, breathing its last gulp in my dreams. I have a project titled TPM that helps in increasing productivity by decreasing waste. I have found solutions, remove that extra pump I debated, reduce the pressure inlet et al. With the whole week in work, the eyes of my mind see mirages, illusionary images of graphs going high, of bar charts gaining height. I feel something between my thighs, and I realize that my kidney is full. I go the toilet and…, well I pee, thinking meanwhile,

“Hmm, I can pee with one hand, why use both, why waste the energy, why waste water to wash both hands”

and then I start dreaming again of earning billions of dollars by teaching this One-Hand Pee Principle like those Japanese who teach companies the utter useless concept of TPM and earn such fortunes. I return to my cubicle, looking at the clock on the wall so hard, as if hypnotizing it to reach fife thirty. Ahh, I am tired, I feel like a dog that has been chasing some vehicle for two hours, and then giving up in vain, or like a tire that had been slap-pushed by some urchins on a rocky terrain. I had always debated sometimes, near people of “respect”, about how good is Solitude sometimes, infact better than company.

“Imagine a situation when you are in a room full of people, and the jukebox nearby starts playing your best song, well all I want at that time is to blow out my lung and sing like a rockstar, but I cant, I have some rules to follow, I have to behave with an utmost unadorned simple manner. Or why go so far, just imagine yourselves sitting in a crowded bus on a hot Delhi weather, when your private areas start demanding a little rub. It’s the worst torture I have ever come across yet”.

Yet, I hypocritically sit here, triple crossing my noble sermons. The clock had hardly rotated since my thoughts had turned maniacal. My spirits all dried up like my early morning mouth, I wish that all this ends soon. I am helpless damnit, it’s as if my worst nightmares playing live here. I try and try, yet I am not able to change my state of absolute misery, I feel like a victim of some voodoo gimmick, or like a dart-board being impinged by a sporadic machine gun attack of infinite darts.

“Come here all you safety preachers of this esteemed company, can’t you see my head is the most unsafe point in your factory now, it’s going to explode soon”.

I pass a few more minutes in this damned office. I try to scribble* something and end up writing a few lines, yet the clock has completely betrayed me, thirty more minutes, bullshit!! Ahh…well chuck it, ill end here, there’s nothing much to say, I just wish this ends soon.

I miss home, I miss my hostel.

*(Here’s what I scribbled by the way…..
A two dimensional snake writhes
A mouse movement competing with a bullet
Cackles from the back
A tea glass falling and turning cullet

I feel as if I am high
In a domain where it is all forbidden alas
My eyebrows so heavy
The images fly, the cullet turns to glass……

PS: Don’t waste your time by finding any meaning out of this)


IIL[EAGLE] said...

It was ultimate the way you spoke about explosion of the most sensitive place of office...

Surely, come on dude m going to help you in your energy conservation project. I will also pee using my one hand..

Abhimanyu said...

Nice changes bro !!

Kuch naya to likh