Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Close Encounters with the Third Kind

After the MICA interview, I had the leisure to mull over several existential questions while sitting on a filthy berth on a train to Bombay– primary among which was how on earth Bangalore is such a babe factory.

It fills me (and most other males in Chennai) that just 350 kilometers from where I live, there exists a place which bears a strong resemblance to the land of the Amazons. (I’m thinking more on the lines of Wonder Woman here, and not Xena, in case you were wondering!) After arriving upon the conclusion that it must be something to do with the weather or some magic depilatory (or whatever else they call it) available only in the city, I dozed off. I was woken up with a start when someone placed a rough hand on my head.

In my half asleep stupor, I wondered whether it were some pretty Bangalorean girl who’d come to thank me for my flattering views on her oomph factor. I turned my face upward and opened my eyes. And promptly wished I hadn’t. It was ‘Close Encounter with the Third Kind’ time again.

The aforementioned creature clapped it’s hands loudly on my face, and told me how it would be better for my health if I complied quickly with the demands of the 6 foot tall, well muscled extortionists that had surrounded me. A quick dip into my purse later, they left, but not before conferring me with blessings for a bright future. (Oh yeah! Now watch me. Armed with their blessings, there’s no question that I’m going to be the next occupant of Race Course Road)

I was understandably miffed at having my purse lightened by the matter of around thirty rupees by the end of the journey. But upon arriving in Bombay, I got to listen to the Sisto horror story. Apart from shelling out lots more, Sisto also had the honour of being squeezed in the wrong place by the same characters - an experience which, according to him, not even the most gay among us, would have enjoyed.

I seriously think that this pestilence has tormented us long enough. I understand that these people are offered no alternative avenues of employment, and they do this to survive. I understand. Completely. But can you please keep your grubby paws off my &(_*& please?

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