About monkeys,circus,(p)oop

Thought for the day: We are what we pretend to be, but we better be very careful what we pretend.

Do you like monkeys? Can you catch them? According to a report in today’s local papers, there are many vacant posts, in our capital city of Delhi. There are around 15-20,000 monkeys, and only 3 monkey catchers. There have been tenders put out, and no-one responded. Finally, a team of people has been sent around the country, to look for these ‘specialists’. Imagine this line being part of the vocations up for grabs, when the 12^th standard results come out. Like, mechanical engineering, Arts, Fine Arts, Monkey Catching, Medicine….

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Life is a circus..LOL…In my previous company, I’d earmarked everyone, as being a particular member of the circus..right from the ringmaster(That’s easy), to the lions to the usually docile parrots who suddenly let off a mini-cannon in the circus, to the friendly pommies to the clowns. So, look at it this way. The day begins with your getting into your cage(Be it your car, or, your company bus), and going off to the ‘big top’.(Your place of work). You enter the ‘ring’(reception), and people are smiling, wishing each other and you, as you walk to your place of work, since they’ve just been ‘fed’(breakfast), a la, happy satiated animals at the circus. You see all sorts of acts going on in the ring, right from trapeze artists(people who take risks), to the clowns(who don’t know whether they are coming or going), to the jugglers(like me) who try to juggle tasks from one to the other. Then, of course, are the agile horses who keep running round and round, with their trainers jumping on and off their backs, and getting the credit for what is actually the horse's hard work...think,think...which other circus situations can you liken to daily life?

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How conscious are you? Let me add-how conscious are you of your,err,poop, especially when you use public conveniences? There’s this loo in our office, and I feel appalled since three days. Whenever I enter the cubicle, there’s lil pieces of the previous user's poop floating around.(Ewww goes Red..hehe)…and, I have to push the flush button immediately. That’s what made me wonder- since this,err,undissolved/floating poop is usually the result of a flatulent tummy(At least, I guess so-I’m no doc), does the person who exits from the cubicle have a look back to see whether,err, everything’s spic and span for the next user?

Well,I shouldn't complain- it’s still much better than some of the public (in)conveniences I’ve seen in our Indian trains and at places like railway stations, where the stench makes you want to run a mile away,or, revert to the good ole days(Before my time, of course..LOL) of using a lota (pot) and going out into the fields, where at least fresh air is prevalent.

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Another letter in a Friday mag of one of the local papers. And, it’s a letter I wrote in response to ‘The Art of Conversation’, and my views on blogging. Have a look.

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On to the endjokes:
Bridegroom: "How much do we owe for the room?"
Hotel Clerk: "Three dollars apiece."
The bridegroom gave the clerk twenty-one dollars.
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Once upon a time a Sultan had nine wives. Eight of them had it pretty soft.
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Little Artie, aged 8, was walking through the school corridor in an indecently exposed condition. The school principal stopped him and asked for an explanation. "It ain't my idea," spoke up Artie, "I raised my hand in class this morning, and the teacher asked me to stick it out until lunch period."
(Innocence,thy name is children.LOL)

Till next time,keep smiling.