The Bald and the Beautiful

The former is my fear, the latter is my dream! :)
I mean, when your hair decide to fall off like suicidal lemmings, you can't help thinking about them. Its real bad I must tell you. I am hoping that I won't have to get my shadi.com photo clicked wearing a wig. I have even started wearing more and more of Axe deo, to the point where I was offered bulk discount on a carton. You know na, it hasn't helped! Some people gasp for breath, while others just ignore it. Nobody has jumped on me. Not yet.

But I feel happy today. I had at least a part of the revenge on a certain Mr Kots. Kots and Momo, my next door neighbours, suddenly seem to have ganged up against me. They allude to imaginary incidents, fictitious conversations and nasal songs to embarass me."It's all in the family" they say. Today at the dinner table, Kots accidentally revealed one of his secrets. And I couldn't have been happier. I used it much to my heart's delight, and we had a good laugh. I am sure the lactymase[or wutever it was they taught us in Class IX!] enzymes in my alimentary canal had an easy day today.

How many times in a day do you get that weird feeling called "Not Yet!" ?
The maggy ain't cooked, not yet.
The assignment ain't complete, not yet.
The dark night isn't over, the rakhi hasn't arrived, Preity Zinta hasn't kissed me, Bill Gates hasn't adopted me, I haven't got my visa, I haven't learnt to keep my mouth shut at times, I haven't grown up and nobody has jumped on me. Not yet.

Meanwhile, the Pavlovian experiments have turned out to be disastrous. Picture this:
You are sound [but silently] asleep in the classroom. It feels like you are floating in heaven, and all that stuff about menakas and apsaras. Suddenly, you find them running around, talking in a hush-hush and scampering for textbooks and casemats. You see the projecter screen go down and weird figures begin to appear on it. The laughing buddha is having a hearty laugh. The menkas and apsaras turn into familiar faces. Then it strikes upon you that the prof has announced a quiz, and you join the running-around batchmates, trying to find someone to share the casemat/textbook. You somehow try to ward off an impending zilch. The daily quota of sleep is debited [or credited, whichever makes sense] to the next lecture. As the prof laughs aloud, you begin to wonder if you would make a good he-rudali.

As each day passes by, there's still less of life left to enjoy.

"...Chal, soche kya, choti si, hai zindagi,
Kal, mil jayein, to hogi, khushnaseebi..."

Ref: "Pyar ke pal..."
Artist: KK