Sagar had tried to alter his schedule to hit the bazaar early. It had involved some near impossible feats like him getting up with an alarm on a weekend. This, in itself, had to be a true event of oddity he had partaken in almost a year. Notwithstanding the week’s fatigue at work, he had managed to drag himself out of his blissful oasis of dreamful slumber. A quick shower and a hasty breakfast later, he was ready.
Morning crowd slowly trickled into the brightly lit open spaced aisles of the supermarket. Every section of the society he knew was there, pushing their carts into the various columns of prosperous perishables. Sagar’s eyes were particularly aimed at the vegetables section. He knew it was the third Saturday of the month, and that meant only one thing – fresh bitter gourd. If there was one thing he loved more than cooking it, was buying it. There was something about the quiet victory in getting a handful of the farm fresh vegetable that gave him immense pleasure. Born into a culture that thrived on good appetite he wasn’t any different.
The squeaky wheels of his rusting shopping cart were headed to their destination. A few more meters of travel and he would have achieved the one thing that had made him get up at an unearthly hour on a holiday. A rapid yet well angled turn to the right and there it was. Heaped in a perfect little bundle, it was glistening under the brightness emanated by the lights around. A few curious onlookers hovered around making a beehive of hands and faces. He had to act quick. As he approached that section, his heart skipped a beat as a dull yet familiar emotion came over him. A few more steps and his emotion had turned into reality.
It was all over. Only ten to eleven sad looking rejects stared back at the sharp frown on Sagar’s face. ‘Take us or leave us,’ they seemed to say. He looked around at the soft giggle that seemed to echo from within the passers by who had once again gained access to his ambitious goal before he could. Three more Saturdays, he thought to himself as he gingerly picked up whatever remained and looked remotely edible.
The unfortunate part of his story is, however, larger than just this one episode. He has faced similar situations almost everywhere he has gone. Be it getting the good seat at the cinema or be it hailing a healthy looking taxi-cab on a busy afternoon. Be it wanting to chat up cute girls or be it fishing out the kind of T Shirt he always fancied. The good ones are always taken.
But being the perseverant example of a human being that he is, he pacifies and rationalizes his near success attempts by giving himself a bonus. ‘Good guys always finish last,’ he maintains as he gleefully boils his favorite spiced bitter gourd curry. His hope relies on the reverse concept, that since he is a ‘good one’, he will be taken soon.
We wish him all the best with his concept in 2007.
...ShaKri…
Morning crowd slowly trickled into the brightly lit open spaced aisles of the supermarket. Every section of the society he knew was there, pushing their carts into the various columns of prosperous perishables. Sagar’s eyes were particularly aimed at the vegetables section. He knew it was the third Saturday of the month, and that meant only one thing – fresh bitter gourd. If there was one thing he loved more than cooking it, was buying it. There was something about the quiet victory in getting a handful of the farm fresh vegetable that gave him immense pleasure. Born into a culture that thrived on good appetite he wasn’t any different.
The squeaky wheels of his rusting shopping cart were headed to their destination. A few more meters of travel and he would have achieved the one thing that had made him get up at an unearthly hour on a holiday. A rapid yet well angled turn to the right and there it was. Heaped in a perfect little bundle, it was glistening under the brightness emanated by the lights around. A few curious onlookers hovered around making a beehive of hands and faces. He had to act quick. As he approached that section, his heart skipped a beat as a dull yet familiar emotion came over him. A few more steps and his emotion had turned into reality.
It was all over. Only ten to eleven sad looking rejects stared back at the sharp frown on Sagar’s face. ‘Take us or leave us,’ they seemed to say. He looked around at the soft giggle that seemed to echo from within the passers by who had once again gained access to his ambitious goal before he could. Three more Saturdays, he thought to himself as he gingerly picked up whatever remained and looked remotely edible.
The unfortunate part of his story is, however, larger than just this one episode. He has faced similar situations almost everywhere he has gone. Be it getting the good seat at the cinema or be it hailing a healthy looking taxi-cab on a busy afternoon. Be it wanting to chat up cute girls or be it fishing out the kind of T Shirt he always fancied. The good ones are always taken.
But being the perseverant example of a human being that he is, he pacifies and rationalizes his near success attempts by giving himself a bonus. ‘Good guys always finish last,’ he maintains as he gleefully boils his favorite spiced bitter gourd curry. His hope relies on the reverse concept, that since he is a ‘good one’, he will be taken soon.
We wish him all the best with his concept in 2007.
...ShaKri…
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