A round and rotund figment of imagination…

Foreword: this piece of script bears no resemblance to any homosapien living, lived and going to live in this world.

Go on…..

Holding the “Stomach Puncture Restaurant – Menu” in my hand and browsing through it,

“ 1 roasted rava onion masala dosa with 3 cups of sambar, 1 sizzling vada pav with extra butter, 6 hyderabadi mirchi bajji, double scoop vanilla ice cream with hot choco sauce and almond topping and 1 freezing pista milk shake.

That is it for me.. Come on..   Tell your orders too.. it’s getting late” I said handing over the menu to my friends Radha and Sandhya..

Jaw dropped, they gave a 90 degree turn to their heads and looked at me in an open-mouthed rapture..

“Don’t be too modest. Why don’t you order some more?” blurted Radha slyly concealing an about to explode a 70mm laughter.

“I prefer light snacks as it ll be dinner time in 2 more hours. You know that our hostel warden unleashes sivathandavam if we skip dinner” I said rubbing my tummy with aplomb.

 “Ok. We ll have 2 plates of Idli with no extra sambar” divulged Sandhya as if recovering from a 5V shock and gazed into still space with expressionless face.

“take a bite at the bajji..spicy and succulent” I said handing a sauce coated bajji with one hand to sandhya and shoving vada pav into my already loaded mouth with another hand.

“N… O….”    they snapped as if they were on an agenda to help our Union Food Minister get India out of food deficit.

“Please keep coming to our restaurant madam… I guess your college-hostel is just 1 km away.” Importuned the overweight owner as he handed somph to my friends and bill to me..

“We are planning to open a second outlet soon.. bring your friends too…” he told with an insatiable glee as he returned a few coins for my 500 rupee note.

The hands in my watch came threateningly close to 8 so we hurried to the hostel lest I should miss dinner. I skyrocketed to dinner hall as soon as I stepped out of the auto.. Having pocketed five 2-cm thick aloo paratas and 5 cups of channa masala curry and 2 glasses of lassi in my stomach, I came back to my room suspecting that the cook filled only half of the fifth bowl with chana masaala curry..

              Licking my fingers and lips and wondering whether Radha and Sandhya had food, I crash landed on the bed…

.

.

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              I sprang back to movement only when the sunrays fighting through the glass windows tortured my eyelids. Huffing and panting.. I scurried off to college.. Because punctuality runs in my blood.

I joined the swarm of students already lined up in the class picking up an empty seat beside Radha.. “ I missed my breakfast.. do you have anything to eat” I inquired hoping for atleast a kingsize Cadbury chocolate in return..

 “Good morning ma’m” sang the class in unison as the lecturer walked in..

“Good morning to you all… welcome to this college… you have 4 years in front of you to frame a fantastic future.. work hard… Now, each one of you, introduce yourselves “ said she pointing the finger at me.

I did not realize that I was sitting in the first bench defying all laws of back benchers. Dismissing the Cadbury in my thoughts, I stood up, tuned my voice and said,

“ I am “…

“An elephant” completed a masculine voice from behind..

The class broke into a high decibel laughter which would easily win them a guiness world record.

Deflating the abashment, I said “Sonu” and collapsed into the chair…

15 minutes down the disaster, I sensed that the students were taking notes like parrots as mam scribbled something on the board.. but my mind still oscillated like a pendulum between the cadbury and the elephant.

              “Do I really look like an elephant?” I asked to myself shooting at the mirror at various angles and elevations. Definitely not, but may be an inch close to a new born elephant”. But the mirror too couldn’t hide the truth for any longer as I saw an MRF tyre bulging out from my stomach. To be crisp, I could put a fully grown sumo wrestler to shame..

              Sensing an impending peril to my reputation, I dialed up my uncle for some damage control.

“I am happy this day dawned. I shall harness the power of yogic energy to turn the floating fat to fighting fit. Yoga is divine.. yoga is eternal.. I shall cleanse your soul and body… the yogicized reverberations shall…“ my uncle, a yoga trainer chanted…

“when shall I come to practice? “ I interrupted saving myself from the free yoga lecture. 

“5 am”

“Done” I hung the phone. “Exhilarated, I stormed into a NIKE outlet and bought myself a shocking pink T-shirt and fluorescent green leggings. “ I already started phrasing taglines – “sonu stuns shakira..” ( of course, I mean the physique… what else did you think? ) as if I am put into a yoga machine and my uncle pressed the start button and I turned into shakira when he hit the stop button.

              I obeyed the rings of the alarm and woke up at 4.45am the next day. The delight of donning new clothes is alone responsible for me waking up at a blasphemous hour for a lazy lamb like me. In fifteen minutes I was standing among an army of yoga students swinging my head from left to right. 

“That is warm up exercise. Now lets start the main asanas. Palms and feet down, rest of the body in the air like an inverted V. Bring your body down putting all the weight on your shoulders. Now you are in parvatasana” glided my uncle.

“climbing a parvat is much easy “ I murmured rubbing of the sweat off my forehead which earned a dirty look from a neighbouring aunty who seemed like she is born into this world only for yoga..

“now we shall have a sitting exercise- padmasana”my uncle announced…

“finally some rest for my pained posterior whatever be the aasana” I comforted myself.

“Sit down. Fold your legs. Place the right feet on your left thigh and the left feet on the right thigh. Position your hands on your knees.. close your eyes and meditate” slipped into padmasana my uncle and his army.

“I could identify only the body parts-legs, feet, thigh, hands, knees, eyes and an exception- meditation from his speech” I dint know what to do with all of them…

My uncle’s assistant was doing the rounds and found me fiddling with my toe.. he came running to me when I was about to kick the aunty before me in a stunt to get the aasana right..

He helped me get into padmasana after a team effort of 10 minutes… I threw a successful smile at my uncle as if I can be his guru, given a chance.

“unfit” read the expression on his face..

I turned my head back to find if he meant that expression for the uncle behind me as if I am in the perfect posture.

After many such somersaults, nerve breaking asanas and patience of the aunties and uncles who received my free kicks, my uncle announced “Savasana”.

“you shall all act like carcasses without any movement, close your eyes and relax… relax… relax…”he said soothingly.

“what is the need to act like a carcass when I have already become one” I thought nevertheless slapped the yoga mat with my back.

……

Suddenly I sensed some jerky movements. I tried to open my eyes and found locked up in the rear seat of an automobile.

“Who is that? What is happening?” I shouted.

“Carcass in the car” replied the voice, a familiar voice… a fatherly voice…. FATHER… yes its my dad..

“I never thought you also wanted to learn yoga. When did you join the class?” I inquired pressing my aching legs.

“for every new yoga learner, there should be a follower to collect him/her just in case he/she doesn’t spring back to life after the yoga session. So I have become the driver to bring you back home after your 1^st class. Take a packet of sweets for naren uncle and swati aunty who helped me in couriering you in the car.” My father explained looking at me in the rear view mirror.

“Yes… you were telling something? sorry I slipped into sleep…” I questioned thrashing the mosquito which disturbed my savasana on the run…