Balance Puleeeeez...!

Now we are going to deal with a very tricky situation. You are half- sitting, half- standing in a bus about to stop, looking at him. Your eyes search for him, desperately. You long for a glimpse of him, clad in khakhis. He seemed content closing his eyes and half-asleep the last time you saw him, it was not a fortnight ago, just a few seconds back. He knows you are going to get off in this bus stop and he probably likes playing hide and seek! Who would not love to play with you, a lovely woman in her thirties, escorted by a handbag and a mobile? You look like a telescope gold fish with your eyes dilating beyond your head. And you do finally have a glimpse of him busily writing away a ticket. He seems very absorbed, not even thinking remotely of looking at you. But oh....you want IT right now! You signal to him, with your eyes, sorry, hint not taken. You wave your hands frantically, a typical damsel in distress which if seen on a Bollywood movie might have brought a dozen Amir Khans and Salman Khans dashing for your help. But here, its of no use, our Vishwamitra is busy with something. Finally you decide to yell at the top of your voice, when the shrill whistle drowns out your sound. Sorry, you have to get down now, or wait, get IT and walk a full stage back in the scorching sun. Doing your arithmetic, you decide otherwise and shoulders drooping, you give a sigh of surrender and get down from the moving bus. As the bus moves on, you find him looking at you mockingly, he now has pocketed your IT- Rs.2 balance.

Cursing your bad luck, you walk doggedly to your office. Your day starts in a black mood and your super-"visor" isn't helping you either. Your head seems to be fuzzy and dizzy and you are suddenly craving for a cup of chaai. Calling the office helper, you request ( read with utmost respect) for a cup of tea, giving him a Rs 5 note. He gingerly accepts the note passing through his scanner ( eyes, of course!) and heads to the canteen. The hot tea arrives by your table after a good hour, not steamingly hot, but barely warm. Biting back your tongue- beware, your tomorrow's tea depends on good behaviour today, you sheepishly accept the drink from him. He hands over the cup and walks back without a backward glance, oh no, again your IT is gone!!! This time, IT is Rs.2 again. Your mild, dull brain murmur has now ballooned into a full blown headache, demanding Anacin immediately.

Sulking, you now plead your friend for help, a couple of anacins, handing him a Rs 10 note. He graciously accepts the note and leaves for your pill and is back after half an hour loitering and hobnobbing, with your pill. You get it and gulp it down with a glass of water and lucky, he still stands beside asking you how you feel. You tell him its getting better and he starts a small talk on his file. You chat with interest on all issues, including the weather and by the time he is gone and you settle in your seat, you remember one thing- again IT is gone, this time, you don't know how much. Cursing dear lady luck again, you start working. During lunch time and till you finish work, memories of IT comes flooding back and you feel like an ass on a loosing spree. You vow to get your money back some day and return home losing another IT- Rs 2 in the evening bus. IT is being lost everyday, how much ever you try to save it. It simply cannot stay on in your hands and slips away to khakhi clad gentlemen. May be IT likes khakhi clad men to a thirty something women with purported dementia. When the whole world is talking about IT, you simply do not like to even call IT as it is- "Change". So from now on, you take an oath to ask boldly for IT, let them think you are insane, you are a miser, you are miserable...Don't forget to say your tagline- " Balance Puleeeeeeeeeez!"