Friday 12 January 2007

Do Porpoises Have Arms?

The Symbiosis Institute of Mass Communication, Pune, will be conducting its culturals from the nineteenth to the twenty first of January. The people at SIMC may have to do without the not inconsiderable prescence of the chaps from the Visual Communication department of DG Vaishnav just because of one incompetent buffoon at a counter in the Central station.
We needed to get a form stamped by someone at that counter. That someone was not to be found at the counter. The closing time for the counter was 1730 hours, and we were there at 1715 hours, IST. Unless these blokes were following time from a totally different time zone, we had every right to assume that we would get the form stamped, and get our tickets to Pune and back. Well, things don't work that way.
Finding nobody at the counter, I went to the door through which all the inner sanctums of the counters are accessed, and stood just outside, wanting to ask someone what to do next. A lady appeared, and I asked her. She said she was new there, and she didn't know. I cursed silently, and stood there, looking like someone with a runny nose who's just discovered his hanky lying underneath the feet of a horde of rampaging rhinoceri.
A surly, miserable looking man appeared out of nowhere, waving his arms about like a drowning porpoise (He may not have looked surly and miserable to me at that point in time, but subsequent events have clouded my ability to state events in an objective manner... and I'm not too sure whether porpoises have any arms to wave about). On closer inspection, he appeared to be saying something to me. He walked up to me, and told me to come back the next day at ten.
I'd got through about half of "But Sir, we need to book these tickets today..." when the surly, miserable man interrupted haughtily and said:
"We do not care about that."
... and shut the door in my face.
Now I do not know how one is supposed to react to that. I suppose people would disapprove of ramming the door open with the left fist, and saying 'fuck you!'.
Well, I did just that.
All I can say is, it was a spur of the moment thing, and all it would have done is make that buffoon firmer in his view that I was just a spoilt kid, too used to having things his own way. Any feeling of guilt (okay, I'm expecting finer emotions from someone unlikely to possess them, but that comes from a belief in the general goodness of the human race, and a feeling that there are way more good people in the world than bad ones) for his insensitive action of shutting that door in my face would have evaporated.
To all the chaps in Symbiosis waiting with bated breath to see us...
"Blame that surly, miserable @#$%^&* if we don't turn up."

2 comments:

Vin said...

Finally! a blog post!

Well, dude, only thing to be done now is to erase all memory of this incident from your mind.

KK Iyer said...

nah... i have no problems with memories man... good for a chuckle with my grandkids, someday...