Ever wondered why the phrase ‘Let’s go out for a bite’ brings about a commotion in your house similar to the ones preceding the commencement of a fashion show.
You probably wouldn’t have if you were one
of the models. But if you are that lone wolf spectator then you would surely
find the upheaval if not irritating enough to be on your nerves then
certainly funny.
In those immensely tiring 50 minutes (it
should have taken just 10) you witness
A Storm of Scarves, Apparel and Metallic
Things. How’s that for a title of my personal growth book you
wonder.
You’re out in the lobby in 5 and the rest
are still negotiating terms and signing treaties over borrowed(without asking)
clothes.
You are going out for a snack, not invited
to The Queen’s for dinner for God’s sake.
In the midst of many adjustments of
appearances you finally reach your destination.
Then just as you reach the door to the
restaurant your eldest cousin pulls you back and makes a pot face. In all their
self absorbed fretting they had overlooked your baggy trousers and hooded
t-shirt with the phrase “I am not fluent in idiot, so please talk slowly to me”
threaded across it.
Well you don’t give a damn about her
disapproving stare and so you release yourself from her grasp and dash inside.
Two non vegetarian pizzas are ordered,
pasta, garlic bread. For drinks four cold coffees and four chocolate sodas.
Just 2 minutes into the eating and the well
practised tst tst tst starts. I look up and there’s my sister glaring at me and
signalling me to stop using my hands and pick up a fork and a knife.
I’m like ‘Opposable thumb bitches’; knives
I could use for other things. You might as well get a demonstration if you keep
telling me how to eat.
What is up really? And I look at the faces
of all of those sitting inside the restaurant. And I realise the smirk on my
face and these thoughts in my head:
Should I be conscious of the man sitting in
the next booth looking as if he is about to piss himself?
Should I be conscious of the woman who
smells like H2S?
And worst of all should I be conscious of
all the others who are dressed exceptionally and eating royally here but back
at home whose ability to make their farts trail for a whole minute are their
biggest achievements till date.
How is acting like oneself so different
from a dare? All teens start jumping even if they hear the term ‘TRUTH or DARE’
being softly whispered 50 yards away. If the dare was to burp in public they
would concentrate all their energy in carrying out the act, but
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO otherwise we can’t even say the word in public.
I guess MAN was always a slave to The High
Lords of The Land CONTRADICTION.
Well the list of public consciousness (and
it being a bitch) is long:
Ø Mr/Miss X: “I can’t curse people in my mother tongue now that I am a
famous doctor. So what if they spoke monstrously about my mother.”
He’s right people. His meagre knowledge of foreign swear
words will crush his bullies ego to the ground. (NOT)
Ø Mr/Miss Y: So what if it is 48 degrees outside I must wear a pant
suit.
He’s right folks. What if his imaginary ghost fans ‘bump’ (See what I did there)
into him at the movies? You are gonna be in a dark room FOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ø Mr/Miss Z: I hate ‘THE NOTEBOOK’ it was a pathetic movie and I did
not understand its stupid concept. But I’ll have to vouch for it if the popular
schoolmates ask me about it.
Dude even the “Popular Gang” hated it.
Ø Mr/Miss L: I can’t take a piss while in the shower. I have to travel
to the pot and risk falling on the slippery bathroom floor and getting my hip
bone fractured
Forget Public, Private consciousness is on the rise now.
Who’s looking at you in the bathroom??? Last time I checked GOD was a descent
soul.
It all boils down to the singular question
of WHO You really are?
Because only UNIQUENESS brings CHANGE in
the WORLD
So answer me this
Are You One among the HERD or One among the HERDERS??????
Comments
Post a Comment