The Bad-Ass

Pigeons are weird. First, they are dumb. Then, they’re prolific procreators. That combination, in my (non-judgemental, cough) opinion, makes them quite perverted. There is a particular pigeon I know of, who sits on the sill of the tiny window of the equally tiny washroom of my office, and s/he is definitely voyeuristic. Given that it is a unisex washroom, we shall bypass any discussion about the said pigeon’s sexual preferences. Instead, we shall learn about the day I first met this absolutely valorous, fearless and badass creature.

So, it was a fine, ordinary day when I was washing my hands with the very pink, liquid soap (hygiene must be doubled in office loo, but that’s another story for another day) after my business, I heard this faint coo. My eyes immediately shot up towards the ceiling, for I’ve had previous, nasty experiences of aviary creatures stranded on ceiling fans and tube lights and even hooks on the walls, using your shirt as their washroom. Pushing aside the mental image of becoming a loo in a loo (ooooh, looception!), I tried to wrap up quickly. Coo. Again. I would have simply ignored the cooing if I did not finally spot a pair of sharp, beady eyes looking at me through the blinds of the window. I will not lie, it spooked me a little, momentarily. Coo, coo. “Shoo!” I said. Coo, coo. It bobbed its head, but stared at me resolutely. “Shoo! Shoo!” I said again, this time flapping my arms at the bird. Coo, coo. Oh dear god, I thought, it’s mocking me! I made a striking gesture at it. It made a pecking gesture at me. That’s when I realized, it wasn’t afraid of me. It was probably too stupid to know that I could throw a wet mop at it and drench its feathers, rendering it incapable of flying, leaving it to be preyed on by a stray cat or something. While I stood contemplating the various gruesome deaths I wanted to subject it to, it stared at me unblinkingly, making faint gurgling noises. “So, you think you’re some badass, huh? I’ll teach you, you pervert... Staring in through loo windows, shameless creature!” I muttered. I wanted to keep it distracted, while I gathered some water from the tap in my cupped palm. “Take that!” I practically yelled, jerking the water towards it with all my force. It hit the glass and dripped along the length in long, morose, grimy lines. The pigeon looked at me, almost pityingly, moved a little along the length of the sill, pecked at its feet and I swear I am not making this up, slowly curved its neck and gave me a patronizing nod.

Needless to say, I left the battlefield, head hung in defeat, while my adversary stood its ground with all its pea-brained pride intact. I was completely absorbed in my own misery, walking the walk of shame back to my seat of despair. My colleague and next-desk neighbour looked at me questioningly. “Stupid pigeon on the loo window. Wouldn’t budge. Was throwing some water at it.” I tried to make the whole episode sound necessary. She raised her eyebrows. “Mm-hmm.” was all she said.

9 Kinds of People You Don’t Want As Neighbours in an Aircraft

When you are inside a pressurized metal container, flying 30,000 feet in the air you would ideally want a stress-free environment. If the already cramped leg-space and claustrophobia inducing loos weren’t enough, you have these nine gems to ruin your flight experience, if you happen to sit next to one.

1. The Spread

He’s a spread, but definitely not the smoothest one in the market. This one loves to spread out as large as possible and occupy as much area, even the part he hasn’t paid for, as he can. God be with you if you are sitting at the window and the middle seat is hosting a Spread.

2. The Newly-Married Honeymooning Couple

Talk about kebab mein haddi, only it’s your Kebab and they are the haddis. And it is exactly as annoying as the way it sounds. They will make you feel you are invading private space, even though your seat is legitimately yours. The tinkling of the wedding jewellery, which the bride has adorned in copious amounts, the coo-chi-cooing... you’ll be especially unfortunate if you spot some PDA in your peripheral vision.

3. The Human Snorlax

Yes, you’re absolutely allowed to sleep in the aircraft, but if your neighbour is a Snorlax, you’re bound to be annoyed. This one starts the nap time as soon as he seats himself and after that, his vocabulary consists of only one sound - *snore*. “Could you please move your head to the other side?” *snore*. “Please let me pass.” *snore*. “Would you like some coffee?” *snore* *snore* *snore*

4. The Returning College Stud

He’s been away from parental supervision for the first time for so long. He probably has piercings and grizzly manes of hair and beard. Speaks in a fake accent and is so full of himself that he can barely contain it. Poor you is flooded with stories of college debauchery and self-proclaimed heroism. And oh, did he mention his bike, the one that flies faster than this aircraft?

5. The Wannabe Model

She will always be surrounded by a cloud of perfumes and powders, lest the papparazi strike, you know. She will make you feel underdressed and the same time, relieved that you’re not the one caked in compact and chained in brands. And you’re in for some accented verbal abuse if you happen to accidentally touch her Gucci bag or Prada shoes or whatever.

6. The Frequent Loo User

He will use the loo about ten times in a two-hour flight. He is constantly excusing himself, climbing over you to get to the loo. And just when you think he has finally expunged his bladders and guts, he needs to go again. The washroom sign is forever occupied because of him. You start to wonder why he bothers coming back to his seat at all. Oh, of course, to annoy you!

7. The Luggage Fretter

The Loo User must have learned it from the master, for this one is forever checking the overhead luggage to ensure his hasn’t been stolen. Seriously? Luggage stolen in an aircraft? But no, he is paranoid enough for both of you. He also needs something in the likes of headphones, tablets, tissues, moisturizer and so on from his bag, every five minutes.

8. The Gossip Girls

It’s okay to gossip, we all do it, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Only, it is acceptable in closed quarters. You don’t want to find yourself privy to the scandalous lives of some aunty or the lecherous habits of the old man you’ll never have to meet (thankfully). These chatterboxes also don’t seem to have volume control and will continuously give you mini heart attacks with every peal of shrill laughter.

9. The Curious Aunty

The most annoying aircraft neighbour ever. You’re travelling alone; she’s travelling alone, voila! You’re now the best of friends. She will ask you questions with the authority of a visa interviewer. She might also want to stuff he ghar ka khana down your throat. And then ask for compliments on her cooking. Sorry auntieji, this one’s not for you.

Too Weird to Title

Specimen #92512

Traits:

Vision - Based on movement, rather weak.

Anger management level - Zero.

Roar - Deafening.

Social skills - Awkward.
Hmmmm, that's sounds like a T-Rex.

Oh, wait. That sounds like me too. Sigh.

Dog Pound

There are a lot of dogs in my University campus. The strangest thing about these canines, and mind you, they ARE a very strange lot, is that they hardly bark.

They're just so used to people petting them, feeding them (from chicken leftovers to curd-rice) and cuddling them, they just don't feel the need to bark at anyone. They know very well that no one's ever going to hurt them. It also probably never occurs to them that some people are actually rather afraid of them. If they recognize you, they will quietly trot up to you and graze their noses against your feet or shins. Sometimes I almost expect them to actually say, "Hello! How are you today?"

Of course like humans, some of the doggies are more popular than others, like Lelu and Tommy. Lelu is your mutt-next-door. He will not mind if you pull his ears or make him wear a paper hat. He will still come wagging after you next day. Tommy, on the other hand, is a regal one. He is definitely well aware of his prowess over the other dogs and is proud of his bushy tail. But you should see him when he stares at your food while you are eating. He can make the saddest puppy-dog eyes you can imagine.

There's another one, we call him Lelo. That one's totally bonkers. He runs aimlessly, then stops  randomly, sleeps on his back with his limbs in the air, lolls his tongue out all the time. Sometimes he will come to you for a cuddle and just refuse to leave. At others, he will not even see you, even though he's looking your way.

Them you will find all over the campus. And when I say all over, I mean ALL over. I've seen Lelu in the corner of my washroom. I've seen Tommy on the first floor of the Men's hostel. They are the cafeteria too. The strangest encounter yet was the time when, in my Twentieth Century American Fiction class, in strolled a dog. No one was much bothered to chase it out. It sat quietly in a corner and listened to the rest of the lecture. And then it came out with us, wearing the expression "what're you looking at?" on it's face.

It's not a dog-eat-dog world out here. We all are living peacefully. Besides, they are really good entertainment.

The Non-shopaholic

Believe me or not, I don't enjoy shopping.

I've noticed how others go crazy over sales and some of them must shop every season or they go into spells of morbidity that are too much to take. Compulsive shopping is something quite alien to me. At times, people even view this as a disorder. "What? You don't like to shop? And you're a girl?" they say to me. Ignoring the particularly overtly sexist overtones, I find myself strangely disinterested in indulgent-shopping.

It's not like I don't shop. There are loads of items of daily need that must be purchased: soap, toothpaste, pens and stationery. However I cannot share the sentiments of some of my friends who feel filial loss if they fail to participate in the ongoing sale season.

My shopping is limited to requirements. If I don't need a new pair of shoes, I don't feel like buying one. Unless my watch stops beyond repair, the prospect of buying another simply does not occur to me. Likewise, If there's no definite purpose, I hate hanging out in malls, looking at stuff I'm never going to buy (or need for that matter) in large glass windows.

Recently I'd been to the shoppers' heaven in Delhi, Janpat, with a friend. There was so much on sale - silver earrings, multi-coloured scarves, hoards of bags of all sizes, shoes, trendy tshirts, home decor and what not! My friend reckons I'm the only person who went in and out of Janpat without having bought anything. It was weird.

Yet, there is one place my inner-shopper comes out - a book store. I spend my entire year's savings in the annual bookfair in my city. I could spend all day in a book store, be it in College Street (the book lovers' paradise in Kolkata) or the fashionable Starmarks in South City Mall. I never run out of the need to but books. I buy books I don't need  and badly need, books I like and highly detest. Only when I come home laden with books that weigh more than myself do I have that glowing smile on my face like Isla Fisher in Confessions of a Shopaholic.

I wonder what this makes me, a bookaholic perhaps.

On Going Through Someone's Holiday Album

You'll find it surprising how interesting people's albums can be, even if the photography's terrible.


There are these people who only take pictures of the background they have located themselves in. The forest. The hills. The sea. The sunset. The hotel. The bathroom. But be sure, there will be NO people in those pictures. There might be a cow or a crow occasionally.


I've been surprised many times by discovering the holiday clothing of a particular person. When you meet them in town they wear the simplest of skirts and unpressed shirts. In their albums, whoa! Mini skirts and halter tops! And those huge sunglasses too! Where were those feather ear-rings and funky rings hidden all this time?


Then there will be the foodie group, who will include endless pictures of themselves (give or take a few friends) hogging. Cocktails. Mock-tails. Beef steaks. Maybe even squids and octopuses. Honestly, I'm grossed out regardless of the kind of food I see.


Some people have the same pose in all pictures. They must have realized that this angle on them works. They  will smile the same way, look at the camera the same way, even do their hair the same way... It looks like they've photo-shopped their faces into different pictures. In some cases that's true too.


I like going through pictures - sometimes they speak more than they were meant to.