Friday, June 09, 2006


I was in downtown today to visit the IRS office. IRS is out to get me, they sucked a good percentage of my pay check last year and it looks like that didn’t satisfy their rapacious appetite. The IRS auditors believe that I did not report a certain 320 dollars and 21 cents profit I made from the sale of a certain EBAY stock. So they sent me a warrent that I owe them a total of $9160 and 16 cents. They are after me viciously. I think I am screwed. Rape seems inevitable at this point, so I will as well lay back and enjoy.

Here are some scenes from downtown.

I see two drug addicts at the train station, a fat black man and a skinny white woman. Let me call them Jessie Jackson and Cindy Crawford. They are connected at their lips by the power and beauty of French kiss. They strike a pose which make them appear suspended in mid air and arrested in the stillness and tranquil of eternal love. They occasionally detach themselves from the grip of emotional paralysis to enjoy a puff of smoke.

I see two other bums right opposite to me . The woman is leaning on the man on his seemingly flabby but somewhat buoyant and uncompromising chest. She is sobbing. She is also munching from a bag of cholesterol free nacho cheese Doritos. Her sobbing has left two independent trails of slimy thick mucus on his bare chest. One terminated at his wrinkled right nipple, while the other took a slight deviation, maneuvered a hair-pin bend at the suburbs of his beer belly and disappeared into his navel base.

The girl in tight jeans and tight tanks is undoubtedly a candidate for the Guinness book of world records. She will have no rivals in the tightest dress category. Looks like she put on the tiny dress when she was barely 6 and had been growing inside it ever since. Her furious, vigorous, hyperactive body grew over the confines, over flew the limits and continues it’s uncompromising obdurate growth. The specimen is now on display in front of Old Joe’s deli near downtown station.

There is a guy on skateboard wearing a muscle-T. He is skating the length and breadth of the light rail station, clearly aggravated by the monotony waiting for a train. He has a tattoo on his left biceps. In fact he has a couple of tattoos on his left biceps. No, he has a couple of tattoos on both his biceps. No, he has a few tattoos. In fact he has quite a lot of tattoos. In fact he is covered in tattoos head to toe. I think he even has tattoos in his soul.

I never knew the meaning of the word downtown till recently. During my first year in college, I had a friend who was very well exposed and spoke quite decent English. But I was very embarrassed to ask him the meaning of a seemingly ordinary word. So I plotted some ingenious ways to garner this information from him with out ever having to embarrass myself by asking him directly. When he says something like : “They have good Biriyani at Bimbis restaurant”, I would pretend uninterested and as if to engage him casually, I would ask him with a burst of fake enthusiasm “Oh! You mean in downtown huh?” That way I could figure out from him if Bimbis was in fact in Downtown Ernakulam, and if so I hoped to figure out from the geography of the place what “downtown” meant.


Blogger Injikadan Mathai said...

hehehe...that was an interesting narrative..the taxman cometh...well arent they always on the prowl???...and downtown ernakulam..that was so funny..imagine me asking my friends, "okie folks lets head towards downtown chennai"...hmm well from Parry's corner to tambaram, everything looks pretty much the same...hard to distinguish under any capacity, with the exception of mebbe distance to chennai central or distance to the airport...

8:39 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Great site loved it alot, will come back and visit again.

12:32 PM  

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