Injecting fear !

Overheard today :

"I think I'll come later for the medicine. I'm really scared of injections."

I was taking an anti-tetanus injection at the local medicine shop and whipped my head around.

Guess who ?

It was a big, and burly but terrible-fear-in-his-eyes traffic sergeant. He reappeared 5 mins later, eyeing my hand cautiously. By then, it was all over and I was paying the dispenser.

Good God, and these are the men who control the movements of all those huge trucks, buses, SUVs and fine people for rash driving ?!!!!

I do feel I should be getting a bravery award soon :-D 

Getting class-y

With all the histrionics that I have to put up with relating to my class at school, it's a wonder that my sanity is still intact. Sample some details and you'll know why :

1) The boys and girls (roughly 2:1) are always at each other's throats. Only exception : Miss S.G. who all the boys insist that they not only like but also 'respect' !

2) The girls and boys also lack unity among themselves. There are several camps within students of either sex.

3) The best friends sometimes have such bitter quarrels that they themselves wish me to separate them, or in other words, change their seats in class.

4) If I change a certain Mr P.P's place several times for the simple reason that he is always talking with his neighbour, he bursts into tears in class and accuses me of being 'unfair'.

5) One girl narrates her secret fantasies about a certain eligible bachelor (one Mr slim and silent S.S) and the other girls come and complain to me that they don't want to hear about her dirty dreams'.

6) There is a certain Mr R.S. who is extremely delusional about being persecuted. If I believed him, his tormentors would amount to three fifth of the class strength.

7) Their favourite amusement (as observed by me during floor duty) appears to be to try to examine how many of them can possibly fit onto one bench and then push the extra person off at one end.

8) A certain Miss S.D, is the stuff everyone's nightmares are made up of. The ultimate threat they like to issue to each other being : " if you misbehave, ma'am will make you sit beside S.D !"

9) There is a certain Mr A.D.B who will confidently second all my instructions in class. And then proceed to systematically disobey all of them.

10) Mr A.P and Miss P.P are both excellent swimmers and often participate in swimming competitions. Exposure to too much of water, however, appears to have drastically reduced their auditory efficiency. They are always asking me to repeat the simplest of words.

11) Mr R.S. appears to have no experience worth mentioning in his own country. He has apparently seen the fruit called an apple first in the U.K. Surprisingly he cannot string together one grammatically correct sentence in English.

12) There is no dearth of musical talent in my class. It doesn't matter if there is no percussion instrument visible. The head of the person sitting in front of these rockstars is surface enough to hone their imaginary musical skills. And of course, it is to encourage their great potential that the hard surfaces of their desks exist after all.

13) Mr P.P. and his neighbour (the latter having been till recently, a variable) are always swaying up and down in a seated position in perfect sync.

Shall soon be back with more...keep smiling till then :-)

A poem I wrote...after a prolonged hiatus...

MEMORIAL

Did I think you were the answer to all my sorrows ?

I do.

Did I think you were the messiah of my tomorrows ?

I do. I do. I do.

I cradle you to the cross of my soul

A baby never to be.

My dreams beckon you into my sight

A river never to swim to sea.

And yet, despite you, I spite you

Because you were never my chosen.

I dare not wish for wisps of you

I myself have burnt and broken.

Will you ?

There are tears, there are fears

Bitter, battered years

As I mourn my own dead.

And yet I walk, how yet I talk

Scanning a senseless yoke

Legacy of a vampire undead.

Do you ?

Your touch is almost on my arm

A weapon of pain I cannot disarm

Your voice a tune I clutch in my palm

Your ghost the secret of my psalm.

And yet, before you ask me,

I must one day unmask me

And tell you the truth :

I do.