So Wednesday was the day I decided to forego sleep in order to finish up with my Political science syllabus. See, I wanted to avoid the fiasco that was my Geography board and well, let's admit it- Political Science makes much more sense than Geography anyday.
So once it was eleven in the morning on Wednesday, my brain stopped functioning and I decided to take a short nap. Now let's be clear about something- not all of us wear Gucci to bed. So obviously, my idea of an ideal bed wear is really short and loose shorts, super unkempt hair (Never really understood the concept of hair maintenance before bed time mostly because I had a boy cut for the first ten years of my life.) AND an old Lee t-shirt which has so many tiny holes that it may drive a trypophobe to suicide.
Oh, on a sidenote- trypophobia is the fear of holes.
Actually, I won't make fun of them because I respect and understand what they're going through. A lot of holes is just .... creepy.
Yep.. you learn something new everyday
Anyhoo, the reason I described what I wore to sleep isn't for the benefit of sexual predators, or to showcase my poverty. It is primarily to make you understand why the situation is comical. So, I was sleeping..sleeping...sleeping.
Let's do a flashback- I hate, absolutely DETEST anybody who troubles me when I'm sleeping. I don't sleep much and I'm perfectly capable of going without sleep for days but when I DO get to it. I don't like being disturbed. Even if it's like 15 hours straight and you fear that I'm dead- I DON'T LIKE BEING WOKEN UP.
Now, New Delhi has gone crazy for the past few days,the Municipal elections are due pretty soon and as usual Congress and BJP have gone nuts- Now them I'll make fun of in my new blog. I have a whole bunch of Congress- BJP jokes and criticisms. But the bottomline is- I hope some bloody day all those Congress top shots stop talking, (No, dear Manmohan that line's not for you- YOU should be talking. Infact if you want me to pay for your Speech Therapy classes or something I will pay for them without a doubt. Just open your mouth once in a while and see how it feels to verbally communicate with humans) and all those BJP maniacs just stop existing.
Now, in this situation insert some random, clueless Independent candidates. Out-of-job folks who wear garlands 24X7 for some mind numbing reason, parade around trying to fight the elections with no clear agenda in their head- now this I'm speaking from the small number of Independents that I have met in my short life, I'm sure there are many more smart ones out there who deserve to be elected, but I haven't really met many, so no fixed comment on that.
Anyway, so I'm sleeping... sleeping.. sleeping.. AND constantly woken up because of the stupid stupid rally outside my apartment. They're screaming at the top of their lungs, I don't know which political party it was, but everybody who was participating in it got cursed by me in English, Hindi, Malayalam and the little French that I rock B)
It was disturbing being woken up every half an hour in a 3 hour nap. So when, at 2 in the afternoon, the doorbell rang, I knew it had to be my mother as that's the time when she usually comes back from work. I was anyway going to the bathroom to brush my teeth (I had my law class in an hour), so I went to open the door- sweaty (it's hot in Delhi, turn the AC off for five minutes and the sweat does a heroic come back)) and wearing the clothes I'd mentioned above.
I open the first door- we have two of them- the wooden door and the iron grill door and just when I'm about to open the second one, I stop. Six men, are standing outside my door and grinning very hopefully. Obviously my first instinct was to grab my cellphone and dial the police But then, I saw the garland and I rolled my eyes, annoyed.
Me- "Lemme guess Congress?"
The oldest man in the group, shoved the youngest in the group forward on seeing me. Obviously, shoving cute/ super hot guys on badly dressed females who look less like the educated resident and more like the housemaid is the best way to garner votes and their humiliation.
As I mentally cursed myself for not having worn better clothes to sleep (Note to self- SERIOUSLY?!)
This smartass of a guy shoves his super white teeth on my face, wearing like these super expensive, branded clothes, (He was wearing a vest- A VEST IN THIS HEAT) couldn't have been more than two years older to me and said; "Guess again."
I swear to you- It was like a freaking toothpaste commercial in real time.
I frown - "BJP?" I ask.
Hot guy- "Guess again"
"Nope. One more try?"
"Okay... " I shrugged annoyed, I was still sleepy, why the hell should I try?
"Hahahaha" He laughs like this professional model and goes " It's an Independent"
"Great." I rolled my eyes though I doubt in my home glasses- the super humongous black frames that I wear at home- rolling eyes wasn't very visible.
Meanwhile, the other 5 men were STILL standing in the background with grins plastered on their faces, and absolutely mute. What the hell was with the happiness?
"So.. what's your idea?" I asked him.
"Idea?" he asked puzzled.. his accent was so fake, I could get plastic surgery using that accent.
"Yep.. you know the list of things you're planning to do around the place.. Your Manifesto- where is it?"
Still. Aware. That. I'm. Wearing. Torn. Clothes. Smelling. Bad. Unkempt Hair. Not brushed. MY FREAKKING TEETH. You have to appreciate me here. I'm asking about their manifesto with a WHOLE other train of thought running inside my head simultaneously .
He looked at me nervously, and then began a huge speech tracing India since ancient history, going on to the British colonial regime, onto the Indo- Pak partition..the wars,,,, launched into his birth..my birth.. (wth?).. internet.. millenium..New Delhi.. MCD.. corruption.. Anna Hazare..BJP- Congress and what a disappointment they've been and God knows knows what else. And I stood there, trying to figure out- a basic question- What the fuck?
Fortunately, he paused for a breath and I immediately stepped in, "Yeah dude, all that sounds pretty great.. But what has that got to do with your manifesto?"
"Er.. manifesto?" Good looking guy paused his grin.. "Oh.. it's actually gone to get photocopied."
"So," I said, "Let me get this straight- You come here knocking on my door- you six men asking me to vote for you in the Municipal elections, without a manifesto in your hand and a speech about India ?"
"Well, I can tell you what's in the manifesto!" He replied indignantly. His accent was slipping.
I laugh "Sure, go on right ahead."
Now if you ask me why I was laughing, i's because of this- I'm 17, will be 18 in two moths. The legal age to vote is 18 in my country. Technically, I should've just closed the door in the beginning itself. But EHHHH you know, I lurrrrve to screw around people's time and head. ESPECIALLY when they've seen me wearing my sleeping clothes. OH AND SUPER ESPECIALLY when they're short of time and contesting the elections. -_-
So as I stood there, congratulating myself, for being so smelly and evil, the guy began racking his head for manifesto pointers.
"We have ambulance!" He declared all of a sudden.
I raised an eyebrow
"Ambulance? Huh??? Why?"
"We'll have ambulance in every corner and every street!" He declared proudly.
I laughed and asked, "Who's dying?"
He was confused at my question so I rephrased it, "I meant, there is a shortage of ambulances in this city to respond to emergencies, where would you get these ambulances in order to post them at every street? More importantly, why the hell would you need ambulances at every street?! What's the use?"
"We'll also get you continuous water supply!" He quipped randomly as a come back.
I smiled my fake understanding smile which basically means, 'Oh-My-God-You're- so -dumb- hence- you're-SO-MAJORLY- screwed". In this particular smile, the process is such- I will pretend to understand and sympathise with everything you say, then I go ahead and try to make you feel worse about yourself and your very existence.
"Er, Mr..these apartments- the colony that you're in has no troubles with water supply or electricity and does not have a death rate above normal. You're gonna have to give me something better than water or ambulances"
He stammered while the five men still stood- disturbingly enough- smiling behind him. To be very honest, more than the conversation it was those men who were upsetting me.
"Oh we have more wonderful promises.. I don't remember them but....I'll get you the manifesto..IN fifteen minutes! How 'bout that?"
"Cool.. Get me the manifesto. Then we'll talk." I replied curtly. I still smell bad. Need to take a bath. Can't be late to class. Holy shit, why is this guy smelling so good!?
"Wait!" He interrupted me as I began to close the door.
"You'll vote for us?" He smiled hopefully showing his complete set of teeth.
"We'll see.. Hey" Something had struck me. A very important question- "By the way- Who's fighting the elections from all of you?" I asked indicating the five men standing behind him- still happily smiling.
"Oh, my dad is!" He replied and jerked the oldest man in the group to the front with a look that meant only one thing- He's my dad, you need to impress him to get me. Now I don't know when exactly in this conversation I had expressed any sort of interest in him to him. So I was puzzled and again I gave him my fake understanding smile.
The candidate- the man in question- was thickly covered with marigold garlands, and was smiling incessantly.
OH MY GOD STOP! I could literally feel my eyes getting harassed with all the smiling.
"Oh.. Okay.. Hello uncle." I said smiling my cheesiest best, and kept on smiling at him, staring pointedly, trying to get him creeped.
But lo behold! I didn't even think it was possible, but the man widened his smile. I could see his intestines through his mouth. I smiled. He smiled. I smiled wider. Till the time I felt that my cheeks were going to be ripped apart. He kept on smiling, radiating his crooked at me. I sadly inform all of you who were rooting for me in this smiling contest- I lost it with a pretty bad margin.
Anyhoo, so I dropped it, while the canidate's son still clad in branded stuff asks me again- "You will vote, no?" He tried a real douche bag move that I think he thinks works on women, but I don't really think it works on anyone but his mother.. He did an eyebrow twitch.
Hey, 1970's? I think you misplaced a guy.
So I did a donkey laugh. A donkey laugh is a laugh that I reserve for situations to indicate that whatever I just promised to do, I'm not really going to do it.
Anyway so I said, "We'll see.. oh, what's the candidate's name?"
All the six men paused.
"Oh, you won't remember the name beti! Just remember to vote for the cylinder." the candidate said.
I cocked my ears.
"Arre-" The candidate's son stepped in again "You won't remember the name..but our symbol is cylinder.. here-" He shoved a pamphlet in my hand- the pamphlet was a garish sight with random colours hazily splashed in the background, and this candidate- doing what he probably did when he was born- SMILING with the clichéd folded hands. And a HUMONGOUS gas cylinder with many hands.
A gas cylinder with many hands.
"So- you have a pamphlet with the candidate's photo and your symbol- A GAS CYLINDER with hands, and you give people that instead of the manifesto?" I asked the whole group.
They happily nodded in unison.
I felt myself smile in pity- Even the shit I was wearing seemed less funny now.
"Let me guess.. you're the campaign manager?" I asked the well dressed guy.
"Yeah I yam" He said in a super fake American accent.
I laughed, and replied, "I hope your dad wins."
He winked at me. WINKED at ME. He had some BALLS doing that.
So I did what I could do to ruin his wink- While they were all leaving I said, "Hey,. candidate sir? Thank you so much for spending twenty minutes explaining things to me- somebody who is not even eligible to vote. I hope all of you gas cylinders get a majority"
Satisfied that their smile had vanished, I closed the door.
Crazy shit man. And if he comes to power, which I sincerely doubt from the bottom of my heart- but if he does- I will ..
Oh and I never even got the manifesto. What a bluff! He never showed up after that with the manifesto.
A gas cylinder with hands, bro, a gas cylinder with freaking hands. How can anything that stupid win the elections? But it's India- anything is possible here. Even gas cylinders.
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