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I am Jinxed
by Tyr Anon Bookmark and Share
 
I think I am jinxed, NOOOO!!!! I am serious about this, how come disaster always strikes me first? Makes one wonder doesn't it? The other day I was just walking down the memory lanes and thinking about all the things I have done right and to tell you the truth I couldn't come up with anything worth mentioning.

Hell!!! I can't even dream right, a dream where I have succeeded in achieving something like win a prize or an award or a girl. The dream always starts off on a high note .. There I am, the holy lord incarnate, all rearing to go, with an aura of power and grace around me, people moving aside when I walk in and hushed whispers float around the room 'there is THE ONE', the invincible'. Now for example I dream of a running race, a 100 meters dash, and I am off the block like a flash of greased lightening, leading the pack by a good 5 meters or so and I sight the finishing tape, the deafening roar of the crowd as they scream out my name and I can almost taste the sweet taste of victory and feel the medal around my neck. THEN it happens, either my shoe slips off or I twist my bad ankle or I am waving to the crowd and run totally off the track or a sharp whistle is blown and the whole race is cancelled coz the umpires realize that it was a false start. And my dream ends. Till date I am yet to win that race.

It happens the same way if I dream about the perfect woman for me, I see this girl, just perfect, am infatuated with her, talk to her, make her smile, laugh and in general charm her off her feet (mind you its all in the dream), and then it happens just like a movie.. there's me straining at the leash like a dog, all eager to propose to her and she starts talking about how much she loves my friend, or how I am her best friend and how I have to help her out with this another guy, I tell you folks dreams sure can deflate very fast at times. Now this was just about dreams even in real life it has happened too often for me to discredit the idea about me not being under some wicked spell.

There I was playing a hockey match against a very mediocre team. It was the first match of the summer league, as usual I was showing off my superior skill and dazzling footwork when THERE WAS NO NEED TO DO SO. I was so involved in the intricacy of the move I had initiated that I NEVER knew when my opponent had taken the ball away from me. I found myself all twisted beyond recognition and something had to give.. My ankle DID, I was carried off the field on a stretcher by the Para-medics and spent the rest of the season hobbling around on crutches, watching the matches from the sidelines. NOBODY cheers for the injured players.

Physically I am not weak, have good strong hands but the women folks of my house don't trust me in the kitchen, if there is some rough manual labor to be done or some heavy furniture to be moved around the house, I am the one to be called. BUT.. BUT.. BUT . if a pack of flour or salt or sugar has to be lifted and kept in the shelf, they shoo be off, I don't know why that packet of flour hates me or maybe why my fingers turn to jelly in such cases, but 8 times out of 10 I am prone to spill the packet all over the floor. I DON'T drop heavy furniture but give me a pound of flour and I am doubtful if I can carry it intact from position A to position B.

I have always thought that I have been given a god gifted talent for arts (painting and sketching that is) so used to sketch fairly well, but when it comes to painting I never can keep the paint inside the stupid lines I have drawn, so I stuck to plain pencil sketching till one day when I had drawn a beautiful portrait of a female in all her bridal finery and was preening my feathers at the ultimate work of art man had ever created, when I heard my sister-in-law tell my 8 yr old nephew.. "See, your uncle has drawn such a lovely picture of a Red-Indian warrior" and all I could say in response was 'yeah, it's a Red-Indian warrior" and thus the world lost a budding artist who could have reached immortality given the right kind of appreciation. Maybe posthumously people will clamor for my sketches in the art auctions.

I love to tinker with machines, had a firm belief that I had a knack for mechanics. Once I dismantled my motor bike, it took me almost two hours to do so, there I was all greasy with a wide array of machine parts spread all around me feeling mighty proud of myself. I had even cleaned and polished the ball bearings to a shine, and then this thought stuck me out of the blue that I didn't know how to fit back the parts together. You should have seen the mechanic's face as I explained to him how and why I had done such a thing. Even now he bursts out laughing if he catches sight of me.

I sometimes think there is something desperately wrong in the space I move in. People sense it too, they are kind of subtle about it though like when I walk into my friends houses, I see a momentary flash of alarm in their eyes, I see them subtly clearing the tables of all glass wares, wooden artifacts are silently removed from sight or if it is too big they are shielded by human bodies. I have learnt over the years to get immune to this kind of behavior from my acquaintances. Animals however are NOT so subtle. Till date I have been butted by bulls, cows, sheep and goats, and all of the animals that butted me had been certified as the most docile creatures who ever lived on this earth. I have obtained sworn affidavits from the owners on this. The worst part is I had never teased these animals or gone out of my way to tangle horns with them either. I guess its their own quaint way of showing me how much docile and meek they are. Now dogs are an entirely different matter. I am thoroughly convinced that parent dogs teach their pups the art of hunting and stalking by chasing me. It sure is a sight seeing me running ahead with a mob of dogs at my heels and the puppies yipping away to glory be. I have actually seen parent dogs coaxing their puppies, barely able to walk straight, to come and chase me. There are rare times when I have walked casually home, it was always a case of stop. lookout for dogs . and run like the wind till you are safely inside your house. I am simply irresistible to the dogs. I think it's the way my butt moves which makes the dogs to want to take a bite at it ..

I guess I'll just have to live with it........

Note : the author is attending sessions in witchcraft and voodoo practices nowadays.    
8-Feb-2000
More by :  Tyr Anon
 
Views: 1705
 
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