Those TEN Minutes!

[A fictional story written by me]

Ten minutes ain't supposed to last any longer than ten minutes.. Unless ofcourse, your seated by the window side with a honey bee on the pane. The pane is shut. And yes - the bee is very much on your side of the pane!

This morning, my rendezvous with Mr.Bee lasted that very ten looooooooong 10 minutes!

Lets begin with the beginning..

When you happen to board the office bus in the wee hours of the morning with a long journey (and I'm using the word L-O-N-G here) ahead of you, you'd have a natural inclination to plop in on the first empty seat and plug yourself back to dreamland. Unless ofcourse, you crashed a production build the previous night and your manager has nice pair of biceps (yes. we all have our share of black eyes!).

So there I was - slouching on the front-row single seater and snoring away when all of a sudden..

Buzzzzzzzzz.. Buzzz.. Buzzzzz

Ugggh.. Now what ? I slowly opened a single eyelid and caught a glimpse of this vague black-and-orange blot, buzzing about on the window pane. Couple of seconds later, when my vision cleared, I finally saw it(need i say it ?) - a bee!!

Yikes! I dropped my jaw.

They say, in the face of an eminent threat the third natural reaction is to shield yourself (the first being - denial of believing the threat's inevitability; and second being - dropping your jaw in shock and acceptance). So, I jerked myself up against the seat and pulled up my bag against my chest (as if it's cover would do me any good).

Right. Now that the defences are all set, I started evaluating the alternatives out of this predicament...

Me-I could open the window and let it find its way out.
Myself-Yeah right! At the speed with which the bus is zooming ahead, opening the window would blow the bee smack on my face.
Me- Ooops.. ok how about I smash it to pulp with my bag?!
Myself- Hmmm.. good idea. But then, it has an inherent risk- you got just 'one' shot. You miss, and you got a pissed off bee thats hell-bent on just one thing...
Me- Yeow.. no way! We'll keep that as the last option.
Myself-How much time to reach the office?
Me-Ten minutes..
Myself-Ok. The way I see it you got two options.One, you jump to your feet and get way away from the sting.. er.. bee, as far as you can.
Me-Huh.. you crazy? I'd draw attention. Wouldn't wan't to be called a scaredy-cat! No way! (When it comes to bugs and bees, we guys have big fat ego of putting up a braver front)
Myself- Ahem.. righ then. That brings me to your second option. Sit tight and don't take your eyes off it. And yes, While your at it...do pray!

Tic toc.. tic toc.. tic toc..

My eyes are glued on to the bee for a while now. Too busy to even check the time. I watch it buzzing about, banging against the pane every now and then, as if hoping to break it open with its fury. (Sigh!.. Of all the bees in the world I had to get this wild one..)

And then it happened..

The worst part of a hitting a speed breaker is the potential of being air-borne! I still recollect that fraction of a second when I was in mid-air grabing on to my hand-rest with one hand, the bag with other and clenching my teeth in fear as I watched the bee swing to my side (I fancy picturing it in matrix style, three dimensional slow motion). It did a 360 maneuver in mid air , half an inch from my nose.. before it swung back to the pane..

Phew! That was close.. I gulped in fear and pulled myself back up to position.

Wiping the sweat beads of my forhead, swearing the driver silently by the side of mouth I went back to my business of wait-and-watch.

[20 minutes later]

As I sipped my cup of coffee at my desk I smile and ponder- how effective a theistic influence, fear can have.. i pause the thought..

i take a deep breath.. place the cup down.. and take time to..

rub the 'bump' on my left cheek.. before completing the thought- ..and how futile 'opportunistic-theism' can tend to be!

The devil stung me on the eleventh minute :(

Wrong room!

Squueeeeeek!

I wonder if there exists a physics law (with a fancy name ofcourse), that explains the unnatural spike in the acoustic ability of a door-hinge, in the event of your entering a wrong room! While the hinges tend to be mild on occasions that your entering the right room, they do nevertheless hit an insanely high note when you have goofed up. So there I was, standing dumb, facing a room full of we-are-all-so-important people staring right at me.

NO IDLIS please !

Some people just loooove idlis. Idli-addicts - I'd call them. A mere fleeting sight of its royal presence in the company of its loyal compatriots -sambar and cocunut chutney, makes them drool all over the plate.

Some other people are idly-pacifists. They aren't that ardent lovers of idlis. But nevertheless, wouldn't mind if Mr.Idli paid a visit to their tummy once a while.

And then.. there are those who hate idlies. I repeat - HATE idlis. Got it ? Good. And yes, incase you haven't guessed it already - I fit this bill.

Now, imagine an idly-hater (Yup! Even our lot has got a name!) opening his(Or 'her' for that matter!) snack-pack for breakfast.. And..Wham! He gets hit by the ever-so-innocent gaze, of a bunch of no-gooder idli's, staring right back at him !

Get the picture? Yes, it was me! (Boy! Aren't you brilliant!)

It must be said at this point that an idli-hater's biggest traitor has to be none other than his loving health-conscious mom. (And boy aren't they pro's at tricking ya!) No matter how many times you try to get your 'NO - IDLIS' point across to them , you'll never get across their mind's Pro-Health Firewall!

Sigh... Anyways, so here I am, breaking my head and trying to figure out how to make those idlis go down my oesophagus(Er.. thats what the call your food pipe).

Anybody game to trade snack-packs ?