Mayday Mayday Mayday
No I'm not cheering the day that is today, i.e May day. Why would I? When most of the rest of the world is out today enjoying the start of an extended weekend, I'm sitting here at work. And when I did complain about this fact, my father found it an opportune time to talk about how I'm the only person who actually is celebrating International Labour Day the way it should be - by working! Sarcasm runs in the family, I guess.
You'd think after working on Independence Day (Shocking, rite?), Republic Day, Election day (I'm pretty sure that at least one of these will invite criminal prosecution) etc that I'd have gotten used to all this. The empty roads, the closed eateries, the do-u-really-think-we'll-work-at-all-today attitude at office, yada yada. Despite the non existence of any kinda traffic on such a dreary day I managed to reach the office at exactly 12 noon. Courtesy, a couple of movies and a 3 AM shower.
Anyhow that's beside the point, my fast ending morning was already off to a winning start due to the very scarce public commute on a govt holiday. So I ended up waiting at the bus stop for quite some time and then finally got into a bus and sat down in one of those window seats. After giving the conductor the ondhu rupai change he asked for, I got my headset out and was ready to go Tubthumping with Chumbawamba.
Just then the gentleman, standing near the empty seat next to me touched me on the shoulder and said to me, "Seat ugierrshh ukksindhi".
We'll be singing
When were winning
We'll be singing
I went, "Wha ?". And then he did it again. "Seat ushierrggg usskkindddhi". Conveying a lot more urgency this time.
I did a vertical pan. Took the headset out. Looked him straight in the eye, pointed to the empty seat next to me and id, "Kannada Gothila". Geez! What is it with me and buses?
Again the hand on my shoulder. "Seat bwaaah ushhierggg uskkkindhi"
The newly introduced syllable, atleast 'that' should have alerted me.
He could take it no longer. He just dove right past me, put his neck out the window and puked his guts out. And I had the best seat in the whole bus, having what can be very readily described as a graphic visualization of the effects of badly brewed beer and/or a sensitive stomach. Or what the pros would call - a half boil. And then he went mattai in the seat next to me.
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