The Thundu Guy

What is it with Indians and seats?

Right from the political big wigs battling it out with their coalition partners for that one last assembly seat. The wannabe doctor who shells out my entire decade's salary on 1 medical college seat. Or the much more easily observed species, the thundu guy.

Now the thundu guy is not easily identifiable unless he is in his natural habitat, which is either a railway station or a bus stand. The characteristic home stretch speed and the dexterous throw of the thundu through the window is a sight to behold. Over the years, our thundu guy has evolved into his post modern metrosexual equivalent, the paunch guy. So how do you identify this sub species.

1. Yet another Che t shirt? check.
2. Headphones? check.
3. Swanky laptopbag? check.
4. New fastrack watch? double check.
5. Nike shoes. check. Yup thats him.

Now we don't call him the Paunch guy for a purely numerical reason based on the items listed above.

The Paunch AKA Potbelly AKA (in our more expressive vernacular tongue) the thoppai.

Now how does this guy secure a seat? The power of the primordial belly is put to good use here. Since the laptop is too expensive to be used as a seat securer, it cannot be used as a substitute for the timeless thundu. So what does he do? He uses his belly. I kid you not when I say that on a crowded PTC bus, the power of the belly is too much to take. You will wilt eventually and vacate the standing spot right next to the aisle seat, in obeisance to the belly bearer. This way he gets the seat once the present occupant empties the seat.

Of course there are under developed variants which lack the vital belly but still make a fight for the seat. They use one of several techniques like the Pelvic push or Errant Elbow or the Slighly-risky-not-to-be-tried-at-home Salsa Leg Lock. Anyhow the moment I see one of these guys making a beeline for the seat, I get out of the firing zone.

In fact even if a seat right next to me were to suddenly be empty and even if there's no belly-bugger in a 10m radius I would still not take the seat. Not out of any misplaced sense of benevolence. Its not that I don't want to sit. The fact of the matter is most of the times I can't sit. The travails of the too tall traveler.

Footwear Fetish (2) - The doGs must be Crazy

I've already told you about how dogs and friends alike go crazy jealous over my sandals.

As promised I will now explain in horrific detail what happened on the three separate occasions.

Day 1:
Started off just like any other day, you know.
You walk out your door, trying to place your feet inside your sandals and rush out so that you can catch that 8:30 bus.
The only problem was there wasn't a pair of sandalS, there was just one.Sandal.

I did what any sane man would do, roamed around our apartment(that includes stairs, mind you) with just one sandal on.And to my very short lived relief there it was, outside one of our neighbours doors. Upon nearing the 'thing'(it was no longer a sandal), I realised something had gone to town with that sandal.Ditching the one sandal I had on,i begged my friend to wear his not-so-clean shoes so that I might have his oh-so-tight sandals.


2 days later:
After the usual lack of variety to choose from, I picked out a pair that looked 'unique'.I couldn't wait to get out of my friends sandals so I ended up wearing them as we returned home. Little did I know that I was tempting fate by leaving my sandals out.

The next morning:
DEJA VU.It was happening all over again.The same routine.It was the left sandal AGAIN only this time, brand new.

A month later:
I ended up getting my salvaged sandal sewn so that it resembled something of its former self. I wasn't going to tempt fate another time, so everynight I would leave my sandals within the house.One very rainy day, my sandals had gotten really muddy and I didn't want to get all the muck in the house, so I left the sandals on a pretty high window sill.Lets see you reach that you canine b*.

Today:
And yet it did.It is probably having a nice laugh somewhere right now, and discussing further plans to ruin my mornings in a more colourful way.

Footwear Fetish

I have always had a tough time with regard to footwear.
I have trouble getting one my size,I don't even know what size I'm wearing right now.

Usually I go up to a shop and ask for the LARGEST size that they have available and try to make my peace with what's available at that size, meaning I have to make do with stuff I barely like because its the only thing that fits me.

Another reason why I have a tough time dealing with footwear is the fact that, my friends are,how shall I put this, 'jealous' when it comes to my taste in footwear.They just can't get over the fact that I always end up wearing something 'unique'.

Lately the street dogs near my place have also taken up this fetish.How would you feel when you step out of your door in the morning, to find your sandals in tatters.Torn apart without any mercy whatsoever.

You don't want to be that guy. Yet I was that guy.Not once.Not twice .But thrice.(We'll come to why I let it happen thrice later).And its always just the left sandal , never the right.And its never one of my friends or neighbors , its always me.
I've been asking this question a lot lately in my life, WHY ME ?