THE DAY I MET MEDUSA

I stared at the big black threads of ink like hair sprouting out in all directions. Their serpentine like movement hypnotized me. I couldn’t look away. My brain screams out at me, “Look away Priyanka, look away!” But it was like my mind was disconnected from my body. I knew the repercussion. I knew I would soon face the wrath of the monster. Despite that I was unable to pull my eyes away and inevitably turned to stone. Yes, I met ‘The Medusa' and I am happy to say that I live to tell the tale. Friends, it is only out of concern for you that I write this tale. So let’s start the horrifying tale about the day I met Medusa.For all the people who don’t know who Medusa was I’ll let you know. Medusa was a monster in Greek mythology. She was identified by her hair which were serpents instead of actual hair. For those unfortunate souls who looked directly upon her, a second later they would turn to stone. She was killed by Perseus, who beheaded her. (Reference: Wikipedia my Ramayana.)Now let’s start with the unfortunate event. It was 7:00 pm IST. I reach the station from college, tired. The trains are packed with women. My claustrophobic friend and I look at each other. We are used to it. We get on the train and find a spot for us and our bags. We talk. We laugh. We fall silent. The next stop arrives. I get an eerie feeling that something is going to happen. Suddenly she arrives. She looked human. She smelled human, a stinky human but that’s moving away from the story. Suddenly she raises her hand to catch hold of the handle for support and finally reveals her true form. Her armpits are filled with a bouquet of black, serpentine hair. About an inch in length the hair aka serpents were a centimetre away from my face. I know what will happen when someone will push her towards me, the serpents would ‘bite’ my face. I try to squirm out of there but there is no place to budge. I now know my fate. I know the serpents will eventually turn me into stone out of shock when they ‘bite’ my face. I can’t help it anymore. The serpents lure me into their trap. I keep on staring at them. Time stops all of a sudden. I try to save myself but the process of my turning into stone had already begun. My face was static and I could feel the rest of my body turning into stone. The only thing I could think of at that time was “What would Perseus do now?” and the answer echoed into my mind, “He would bring a razor and shave off the hair.” “SHIT!” I thought, “I wish I had a razor with me”. Defeated I started thinking about my maa, my dad and my sister. “I’ll miss you guys!” Then suddenly something miraculous happened. The monster sympathized with me and put her hand down immediately after which two things happened. One, I turned back to normal. I felt like I had been thawed out like a block of ice. Second, someone pushed Medusa hence making her fall on me. Pissed, Medusa glared at the culprit and raised her hand to turn her into stone. I couldn’t believe my good luck. I could live. Though I felt bad for the woman, I was too happy to care. I finally got down from the train before warning my claustrophobic friend to be careful. The world never looked so beautiful.So friends this was my short but terrible tale. I have done my part. Now it is your turn. If ever you meet Medusa, though I pray you don’t, please use your razor (which I hope you will carry everyday) to shave off the serpents. Please be the hero of 2009. Please be the Perseus of 2009.

The Incredible Bulk

Today I, Priyanka Joshi, will be reveling my one and only true identity. Yes, at home or at college you might call me “The girl with the short hair” or “The girl with the average height” or “The girl with the chipped tooth” but that all changes when it comes to me on the road.The moment I’m stuck in traffic or am being pushed around by discount craving, mall hopping, Sunday shopping women, who just can’t apologize, my true identity is reveled, “The Incredible Bulk”.The fury starts from my toes and in a flash reaches my cranium and the blood bath begins and the arena is in my head.A choke slam to the auto wala who just overtook my ride.A kick to the mid section to the man who is crossing the road in a blur, though any minute now a vehicle will kill him in a second, and yet gloat while going to the other side (I have seen more intelligent chicken).A punch in the jaw to the sorry excuse of a woman who just can’t stop screaming out to her kids to grab the last bag of discount rajma so that she can fart on their faces the next time they cause trouble.A knife through the intestine of the auto walas who communicate in 3 ways when you tell them your destination:1. If the answer is yes then they just stare at you expecting you to understand that the stare means a yes.2. If the answer is no then nod their head and go away.3. And the worst of them all, the ones whose answer is no and don't even bother to tell you if they will go. The simply dash away without saying anything, like they are the reincarnation of speed racer himself.However, since these things can send me to court, leading to imprisonment, 70 years in jail through trial and finally a death sentence I perform these acts in my head. It is a sorry excuse of a life I know. Yet, if you ever find me glaring at you, flaring my nostrils, shaking my head and clenching my jaw you know that you are currently being mutilated.

Why I love the bus

I "love" the bus! Everyday is a new experience!And why do I "love" the bus so much you ask? Well, here's why!Although the bus is always full, the best time to travel is during the afternoon and office hours. The bus is packed, the sun is shining with all it's glory, the oh-so-sweet fragnance of sweat is in the air. Everyone's pores are on overdrive. Ah! can't you just smell the warm, pungent air? The glory of someone's sweat falling on you is just something, ain't it?And then suddenly the bus stops at another stop and a new batch of freshly baked and moist passengers enter the bus. Oh no! The seats are full, looks like we'll have to catch hold of the steel rods on top and simultaneously dry out our arm-pitts. Oh wow! I am standing in a crowded bus with people's sweat on me with an additional surprise of arm-pitt odor, can I really be this lucky?!Hark! What do I see in the distance? A ladies seat being empty and that too a window seat?! I start running..no no.. flying towards the seat before my other worthy copetitors take it. Along the way I see the woman's bum being rubbed across the girl's(who is sitting on the seat) face. Her expression....priceless! I finally race to the finish and get my well deserved prize.Oh yes! I look at the girl giving me an angry stare, with a mental smile, I won fair and square! But wait the glory is not yet over. As I'm basking in all of my victory, I look out of the window. An old woman eating paan is sitting in front of me. She has too much of the liquid in her mouth. Time to release the merchandise. Puch! There goes the red liquid with a beautiful aim. Oh no! There's a barrier in the middle. A strong wind blows and changes the route of the spit.Yes, you guessed it right! In a few minutes I find the freshly spat red stuff on my face. So should I burn my face? Fight with the lady or take of the tasty stuff off my face? Well, I dont smoke, so I cant burn myself yet and hence, have no matches or a lighter. So that takes burning my face off the list. Fight with the lady? Well, she's old and old people have a place in my heart! Ah! forget it. I take out my handkerchief and rub my face till it's as red as a baboon's behind.Oh! My stop has come. I get up in a frenzy,leaving my competitors to start the race again. As, I get down I glance at the bus again and hear the conductor and a passenger starting up a fight. I hear the swearing and the shouting! Damn! I missed it!