Bondage

A recent acquisition of mine has been a talisman. Apparently evil spirits crowding around me complained of the increase in their number that consequently reduced jobs for each one of them. Since I am very partial to those affected by job cuts an amulet was procured, a suitable thread was found to bind it and on a full moon night with owls hooting in the background while I knelt drenched in a pregnant mammal’s blood, it was tied.

What I did not bargain for however were the spatial constraints. Now I am a fairly lean person and so I have a visible neck. However since I am lean (refer aforementioned statement) it is not a very capacious neck and with some other objects jostling for space, contention was bound to occur. Let me explain.

Like any good tam brahm boy my eccentricities, apart from smearing copious quantities of geometrically inclined ash on my forehead is the wearing of the sacred thread( poonal) around my torso. Now this thread may appear to be simple cotton the likes of which Gandhi advocated but looks are deceptive. It costs a bomb, has to be replaced amidst stringent conditions and is composed of 3 strands (which upon my marriage will double).

The next morning displeasure was announced in form of an intense coiled very twisted structure the likes of which would have made Watson and Crick crick their necks in horrendous displeasure. I spen the better part of an hour separating them coaxing them into individual strands. This became a daily routine for me. May be it was God’s way of telling me I’d have arthritic fingers and hence the practice. Some nights were good, some ok and some scarily bad with my T shirt joining the fray. The last straw came today as my ipod earphones somehow found their way in, along the way enticing the watchamacallit things that dangle from the sweatshirt hoodie ( what’s it called?). Anyone who knows me will right away attest to the fact that nimble fingers are not my strongest asset. And so as my wretched fingers worked their way around, my chest resembled a warzone out of 300.

Now I rest scarred without any protection as evil spirits zoom in merrily. Earphones be damned too.

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9 Comments

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9 responses to “Bondage

  1. What to do, thiruthave mudiyadhu!

  2. ippo ennangra? best thing, go ask amma- she who manages thirumangalyam, nombu saradu, and probably a couple chains, apart from the random other strings- for advice 😀

  3. liberalcynic

    Haha…I remember us calling the poonal the ‘world’s costliest back-scratcher!’. I was so naive, I had asked my mom, ‘Neenga poonallodu panathavechundu enaku computer vaangi thaangolen!’. That led to a bad scolding!

  4. this was howlarious 🙂 🙂

  5. drenched in pregnant mammals blood was an absolute clincher!

  6. I agree with max. Loved how you described useless things in your life so vividly. Life teaches you a lesson everyday no? 😛

  7. ROFL!! Unbelievably hilarious! ‘my chest resembled a warzone out of 300’ is my personal favorite!! And yes, I empathize with you on the challenges of poonal wearing! It’s a daily battle!

  8. Saranya

    How you describe it so well..something so silly!
    I guess you have some talent..love your writing! 🙂

  9. Karthikk

    too much effect for nothing… question: do you have it on now or not?

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