Skip to main content

The Bathing Prelude

I loved water before schooling taught me about oxygen two-timing hydrogen. Bathing was an exercise I particularly reveled in. Needless to say, the foreplay preceding it was a customary ritual I seldom skipped.

The stripteasing began at home in full glare of all the occupants. First to be removed was the shirt. Not very entertaining for anyone. Gradually all the remaining garments would come off until it was time for the shorts to be dropped. This was the moment of great reckoning, the climax of my useless art.

Since I was very skinny, unbuttoning by shorts would make gravity greedily pull them down my bamboo-thin legs. I carefully removed one foot from the 'hole'...and kicked the shorts high into the air with the other. The joy of catching them as they descended was immeasurable! Since the 'kick' wasn't exactly masterly, there was no predicting which way my shorts would go or where they would land. This uncertainty added to the fun. The descent has a rather illustrious history owing largely to the trajectory it traversed.

Running after a dropping pair of shorts had become a recreation for me. Sometimes they would go up steeply and drop right on my head. At others, they were flung almost horizontally and I had to dive to get hold of them. Of course, I failed on many of these awe-inspiring avionics. My shorts fell in all sorts of places like behind the bed, underneath the dining table, in the kitchen, behind the refrigerator...and on the fan!

The fan deserves a special mention in my hall of fame. Each time my shorts were trapped in one of its blades, I had no option but to switch it on and let the swing loosen them and let them fall. Of course, where the shorts fell this time was anyone's guess and catching them required the practice of a maestro. That's me.

My just dislodged shorts cut through air like crazy and I ran after them with commensurate zeal. The acrobatics could have got me qualified for the Olympics. There was one risk involved though. The dislodged shorts sometimes swung out of the fan, out of the open window and finally out of our house. That's when mom would chase a semi-nude me (I had to put something on) out and order me to bring back the treasured possession immediately. I had to meekly comply. I ran down the stairs, went around our building, probed for my fallen and dirtied shorts, found them and brought them back. Didi especially loved these trips of mine. Getting rebuked by mom was a spectacle she wouldn't miss for the world.

Anyway, retiring to the bathroom brought on its own set of joys. More on that...later!


Anonymous said…
Good one!!! Get ready to get into the editor's pick of the week again you obscene little rascal.
Anonymous said…
Aah so you were young then! :p
Deepanjan said…
It's substandard and too trivial to be even spotted by the editor.
Jahnvee, how was your first day @ work?
Anonymous said…
The first day was not was not too bad actually. Just tiring. Will write about it in today's blog entry. Got 2 more job interview calls. I'm likely to get hired. Now I'm in a pickle.
Anonymous said…
By ur article u can put Demi Moore to shame ;)
Deepanjan said…
Madam Moore can still learn some nuances of her trade from my page. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be too arousing!
Anonymous said…
It wud be if u replace ur shorts by her dancing pole ;)
Deepanjan said…
How could I wear the 'dancing pole'?

Popular posts from this blog

The year that was

I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still

Post Christmas

The workday didn't have the sweetest of starts. After being made to wait for almost half-an-hour for breakfast in the cafeteria, I was told only when I enquired that there could be no omelette since the heater wasn't working properly. I lost my temper and aired my annoyance not because the heater was out-of-order but because I was needlessly made to wait for something that was just not about to happen. The onus was on them to intimate me and they failed to own up to their responsibility. I find this attitude very irksome. Anyway, the rest of the day was smooth sailing except for a minor glitch that had to be rectified just when I was about to head for lunch. The bay was mostly deserted since most of my colleagues had volunteered for a training. I'm self-taught...thus my being an exception to the mass exodus! Nilotpal is on a fortnight-long leave and I missed him dearly today.
I'm learning the hard way not to trust anyone. Even the one you revere the most may be scheming your downfall. By no stretch of imagination may this seem logical, but who said imagination is limitless?