Thursday, January 04, 2007

I Will Remember This Day

As the day I stood in line for one and a half hours, in the presence of 500 rowdy driving school representatives - one of them breathing alcohol breath down my neck and trying to engage in polite chitchat - until I thought I would collapse from stomach cramps [here is where you give my uterus a standing ovation. Better late than never, as it were.] and decided to let money speak. I went up to one of the men behind one of the million counters and having contorted my face through the excruciating pain into some semblance of charm, I slipped him some money to let me get ahead of around 70 others waiting in line to get their driver's licenses. I have a valid excuse, I was getting late for class. I bribed a man to be able to make it on time for my Publishing course. Is Tintin Da in the building?

It worked. I'm not proud of it. I'm a little disgusted that it worked. Disgusted with myself, that is. But my driver's license will be renewed. For 20 years. And I will go back to having a license and never going near the steering wheel of a car. And, I made it to class on time.

Stop judging me. You'd do the same if you were sandwiched between men singing Pardesiya on your left and Crazy Kiya Rey to your right, while the one behind you reeked of alcohol and the one in front kept turning around and making snide comments about the contradiction in terms that is 'women drivers' to his friend across the room. Especially, if you had to do this twice on the same day. Uncannily enough, this also happened to be the day when all other women motorists requiring a license renewal chose to stay away. It shouldn't matter, I know, but it felt awkward being the only woman there the entire time.

Moving on, the faculty member whom we all love and who is loads of fun, now that most of us don't have to learn Old English declensions and more importantly, seeing as how he has stopped masquerading in our collective pre-exam nightmares as Grendel's mother- on enquiring about my next theatre production [read: acting fiasco], and being informed that it has been my lifelong wish to do jatra in Garchumuk, has expressed a desire to see me in "Kobore Kaadchhe Konkaal". It is a frightfully attractive proposition. :-] Our professors, ki volvo.

I haven't wished you guys, have I? Have a fabulous new year, all of you. I'm going to quote someone from the New Year's Eve party, and say, " I don't remember a thingle thing!" about the celebrations. *cough cough ahem*

8 comments:

Arundhati(Bob, in case you'd forgotten that as well) said...

will madam mataal allow me to refresh her memory?will make for a rather entertaining read.
*nudge-nudge,wink-wink*

"sen"sational said...

Koborey Kaadchhe Konkaal?

Dear Go..*unable to type anymore as falls off the chair, laughing*

Ghoton said...

Congratulasonsh on becoming lishensheeawsh (or should it be becomingly so?):-]. But for 20 long years!! Ami aar kolkata jachchi na. Aar Konkal ki kobor thekey kendey kendey Shakespeare aurabey - You are the cause, you are the cause ???

Dhruva said...

:D

rainbeau_peep said...

bob,
how can I forget you? it was your firm grip on the scant strands of hair on my head that saved me from flushing it down athena's loo. but how, bob, how, are you going to live with the guilt of yanking the hair off an alcoholic's bean at a moment when she was most vulnerable? all the perfumes of araby ...

"sen"sational,
yes, wonderful, isn't it? they repose such confidence in our calibre, these profs of ours.
:-D

dan,
ki jhamela bolo to? erom protyek ta post e tumi baaje bokbe naki? ey ki dhoroner resolution!

druva,
kya bey? dNaat kaiku kyalata hai? :-]

Dhruva said...

(big grin)'twas hilarious...btw, you stay away from the wheel by choice toh, I too, do that. But my choice is such a technicality. My parents insist that the chauffeur(okay, okay...'driver') should be in the car, if I'm to drive. And I have a licence.Thus I opt out.Sheesh.

(lokjon amar naam eto misspell kore, I kinda like it now...it's grown on me :) )

rainbeau_peep said...

dhruva,
e bawa. sorry sorry, that 'h' just vanished somewhere! i despise having my name mispronounced (u couldn't misspell it if u tried) myself.
aare kono choice toice na vye, my mother starts screaming hysterically in an unknown language everytime i so much as breathe on the steering wheel. it's very unfair, i tell u! and i've only ever just broken a couple of numberplates, and rammed the car into a pillar when i was backing up at 30 km/hr. just ekbar, mairi. it happens.
:-|

Deepali said...

'tis late a wish since Dee stopped by and read as always but donned her lazy hat when it came to commenting.

but : Happy New Year :)