Of Timers, Morning Blues and Laughs....

I glanced at my watch and immediately quickened my pace. 15 minutes. I punched imaginary buttons mentally. Thats 900 seconds to go. Damn! Why do these coaching institutes give you a feeling that there is timer-bomb ticking away somewhere.

I took a deep breath and decided to sprint the remaining distance to the bus station. My friends have often told me that I look like a clown while running. They said, 'When you run we get the feeling that your pants are going to fall off any moment'.

It never did make sense to me. They were plain jealous. I had thought so then.

But today, I felt there was a grain of truth in their observations; because, the two feet something toddler, a little devil who terrorised the entire neighbourhood, who usually made faces at me as a form of greeting, smiled like a cherubic angel. But I wasn't in a particularly forgiving mood. Especially not today. So, as I turned the corner, I bared my teeth and growled savagely at him. As I looked over my shoulders, I saw the angel toddle furiously towards his mamma. I don't know, dear reader, if you have noticed this before but there is an element of mystery while you are turning a corner.

Crash! For one brief second, I saw bright stars in broad daylight. I had collided against .... Wow!
She flashed a smile that could clear the weather. 'Are you hurt?' she asked sweetly. Thats brave, I thought, she was asking me if I was well after I had knocked her off her bicycle. 'Am fine ... Thanks', I managed weakly. Pangs of guilt tugged at my heart strings as I watched her extricate herself from underneath her bicylcle. I picked myself up slowly and resumed my running.

I then passed an old gentleman who smiled serenely and said,'You must be running late. I can see that'. I was about to retort with something clever when I recalled a wise man's saying : Politeness is the art of choosing from among your various thoughts. I wished him a 'Good Morning'. 'Hurry Up!', he urged.

I responded by lengthening my strides. A quick glance at my wrist watch showed me that the timer-bomb had only 600 seconds more. My feet now pounded the asphalt. As I powered ahead, I heard someone shout out my name. I ignored the voice. A moment later, a biker pulled up alongside me, and smiling mischieviously, told me ' You can have mine'. I noticed that he was pointing at his belt.

'Thanks', I said wearily before jumping into the bus. The conductor examined my pass mechanically. 'Running late again', he boomed as he handed back the pass. Everybody in the bus now turned to look at me. Strange, I could swear that a couple of women averted their eyes hurriedly as soon as they saw me. Now what could have made them do that? The conductor patted my shoulder and told me, 'The traffic is thin today. You will make it to your institute on time'. He spoke with the authority of the Fuhrer. Hope spread its wings in my heart once again. The rest of the passengers nodded their heads and gave me encouraging smiles. But a nice girl in the seat ahead of me turned around suddenly and looked daggers at me. Now what could have made her do that, I wondered. The bus screeched to a halt. I flew off the bus and aimed myself towards the institute's gate. The wind rushed through my hair as the institute's gate came into view. Home Stretch!

When I was ten yards away from the gate, I signalled furiously to the watch-man to open the gate. I did not intend to stop until I reached my class-room. The watch-man was either blind or plain impertinent. He did not open the gate but instead held his lathi in front of the gate. I screeched to a halt. 'You cannot go in today', he informed me curtly. 'But I am well on time', I told him brightly, pointing at my wrist-watch. He looked at me in a strange manner. There was a question in his eyes.

And, it was then, dear reader, that I felt it. I sensed the temperature around me drop at an alarming rate. 'Odd! Very odd!', I thought absently. An icy draught of air clamped itself around my legs. I shuddered involuntarily. The chilling reality struck me with extreme force. The world swam before my eyes. I looked down hopefully. My pants were missing!

First published in print media on Oct 18, 2000. Written by Avinash Menon.