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.
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