Murphy’s Law has proven itself once again. Something could have gone wrong and like always it did go wrong.
After a rather forgetful end semester examination it was that time of the year which is most cherished by people of my ‘type’. It was summer time and it was certainly going to be an extremely eventful summer. With a very important phase of my life coming up this summer was ‘do-or-die’. I mean I had to pull up my socks, kill all the doubts, rise above everyone’s inspection and try to touch the sky. Yes it sounds too melodramatic and clichéd but I am an optimist (or at least I believe myself to be one) .
But who could I have dared to dream, how could I have forgotten that I am cursed like Murphy. So one bright summer morning I discovered a tiny red inflammation near my neck. Being the ignorant I am I ignored it. It took a visit to the hostel barber where it was pronounced ‘aap mein maa agaye hai’, which upon translation means to have got chicken pox. So I did the obvious and ignored it once again. But my body could not ignore it any more. They doubled, tripled so much so that I started to loose count. With no potion left I accepted the truth and was reminded once again that I have Murphy’s luck. So bags were packed in record speed and a train headed home was boarded, so much about ‘touching the sky’.
Well Murphy did not leave me so easily. Mr Lalu also disappointed me. His brain child ‘The Garib Rath’ left its passengers even more garib. The train was 3 hours late. This was surprising as mine was the starting station. So restless, sleepless and irritated I decided to roam about the train. For some weird reason all the passengers keep looking at my face. It was as if some were shocked and the rest were frightened. Thinking there was something wrong with the people around me I returned to my berth. As I was about to be seated I caught a reflection of myself in the mirror. Holy @##! I had transformed into mirror cracking material (pun intended). My RBC’s and WBC’s were falling against the might chicken pox causing verisella virus. My face was like a crater field. There were lumps all round, at least a hundred of them. No part of my face was untouched and I had a feeling that the rest of my body was no better (a feeling validated in the near future).
So afraid of not being chased and called a Frankenstein I head for my berth, pretending to sleep, I laid face down covering it with my hand. But I still had no peace. I am Murphy, remember? The TT was the first strike, then numerous junk food vendors but the height was when a group of eunuchs woke me up and demanded reimbursement in their own ‘tantalizing’ manner. The night became darker but there was no sleep for me. The train rolled on. No matter how fast it went it was not fast enough for me. All along my berth wobbled, the guy nest to me snored louder than a full strength orchestra and I developed a great feeling, an uncontrollable feeling, an insurmountable feeling to ITCH my wounds but I could not do that.
The train finally rolled into the destination station a good five hours late. My dad was there to receive me. The only thing good about the journey was that it was over. I was very happy to be back with my doctor-mother. She is my magician and I was desperately hoping that she casts a spell which frees me of Murphy’s curse.
Poor Murphy….correction poor me.
I must thank a friend who on knowing of my condition kept calling me and inquired of my health. Her voice was the only relief during the journey
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