Sweaty at 7 PM

Disclaimer : This here is a story of my last week. So either don't read or don't complain.

Yes, In chennai even when you walk back from the beach at 7PM, you sweat. It was that stumid
*. But before we go into that, let's rewind a week of my life.

...................

The one where everything went bad

It all started with the old bread that mom had left for me in the fridge in case i needed an urgent fix for my breakfast. Apparently, old bread attracts mould. Fungi baffle me. How they can spawn from virtually everything, is something amazingly trivial, yet amazing. Then I try the dosa maavu(batter) that my mom had kept int he fridge. It has small airholes and a colorless liquid has collected on top. If only it were odorless. But to hand it to it, it was over two weeks in there. And then the vadu mango (ask me or google it if you don't know) got fungus-ed because it wasn't stirred once in two days. Now how did I not know that! :. Next up. Rice. Rice turns yellow-ish. And smells. But it doesn't beat milk. Milk slightly smells AND turns curdy which is helluva lot tougher to wash. I lost a litre and a half of milk. You know what beats milk? Adai(Ask me or google it if you don't know) maavu. Trust me with this. If you have adai maavu more than 10 days old in your fridge, throw it away without looking at it or smelling it. It was about to spawn some living thing and it smelled EVIL. No kidding.

The one where he ironed his shirt while wearing it.

What do 20 year olds who sleep late the previous night and forget alarms do when there is no one at home for a week? Wake up late and find out he has no clothes to wear to college if he doesn't iron the shirt he washed the previous day, among other things :P. So first I have to search for the iron box because my mom trusts me so much that she hid it, only to tell me where when an irritated-me called her up. Then I started pressing it when I see it is useless because the hands are all over the place. So I decide to wear it after pressing the back alone. I look a the mirror. I look at the clock. Mirror. Clock. Mirror. Clock. Tick.Tock. I switch off the power, and press the front of the shirt while wearing it. Yes, it was a little hot but the result was better than before.

The one where he slept while all hell broke loose.

There are some moments in life that you'll never forget, like the first date, the first kiss, etc etc. Now this is one moment, of a totally different genre altogether, that I'll ne-he-he-he-he-ver forget. (Thank you Dr.Cox for teaching me how to change a two syllable word to a six syllable word) It goes like this. We guys at class have this movie making contest, and a movie to shoot for our lab (Media lab). And we have to submit it the next day. Result-> Staying awake the entire night. And also, since I'm the one who knows editing, I have to stay awake the next day too, while all the others sleep. And I don't take bath the nest day either, because then I wouldn't have time to finish it. So in the end, a tired and disgruntled me comes home at 2000 hrs and has a nice hot bath after 37 hours of continuously staying awake. And then I put my pants on.(Something which might seem insignificant but you'll understand as the story goes on). And then I lie down to let my overgrown hair dry. And then, I doze off. Ok, doze is an understatement. I slept like a LOG. Umm, probably a log that won't break even if you hit it with an aze because it is titanium coated, even. See, I get 12 calls from mom on my phone which is near my ear, plenty more on my landline, and by this time, mom and dad, who are in chennai, start worrying. Dad asks his friend to check on me, and he sees that all vehicles are at home and the door is locked from the inside, and three lights are on. Yes, I switched three of them on before "dozing off". He rings the door bell for like 2 minutes continuous, and I was impervious to that also. So dad calls up a few of my friends and Shiva comes to check on me too. He calls the secretary of my apartment, and to cut a long story short, after half an hour more they use ladders, and peer into windows and finally, on the third window attempt, find me sprawled on the bed, dozing away to glory WITH pants on, (there!). He shouts out my name, and then it happened. One mention of my name did what a dozen missed calls, 40 or so calls on my landline, and 2 minutes of door-belling couldn't do. I woke up. And was surprised to find heads peering in through three windows. I opened the door, and asked my friend to come in as though nothing was the matter. He asked me to look at the time and I go "WOAH! 10.30? What are you doing here?". Thankfully, he didn't feel like hitting me, because he was laughing at how idiotic I looked. The next hour was spent explaining this to the people who'd called and were mightily pissed before breaking out with laughter. I had dinner after that, yes.

................

After those few days, I came to chennai where I am, now, for the 13th day of my Patti's last rites. It's been like a reality show in here; Relatives, having the mother of all baseless arguments originating from virtually nothing, like fungi :P, which make me appreciate my sanity; 4 hour scrubs marathon; A ROFLing account settling session among my relatives, where confusion reigned supreme, and when I stated the vazhappazha joke analogy, everyone, yesEVERY single ONE had to say that joke, one after the other, so that in the end there were 8 renditions of the same joke, and I hit myself for saying it in the first place; Food at 98/79, Padmanabha nagar, NOT made by patti; and an evening walk to the beach at 1800 hours because I was bored, are few things that had transpired, before now. I sat at the beach in front of the waves for ten or so minutes and listened to 10000 days by Tool, while the sky was orange. And when I walked back, it was sweaty and windy.

Really.

*Stumid - (adj) A portmanteau of stupid and humid meaning stupidly humid. Chennai is a stumid city.

P.S : Knock-Knock joke fans, this way, please.