An even more embarrassing moment

Some give speeches with their flies undone. Others wear mismatched socks. I perform lap dances on unsuspecting women using public transport.

Inadvertently, of course.

It happened when I was 17 and returning home from school, weighed down by a bag that was bursting at the seams.

It must have been a pot-hole or the driver swerving to avoid a jaywalker, for whatever reason, the bus lurched and the jolt sent me sprawling across the laps of two middle-aged women.

For a split second, two pairs of eyes locked into mine. And then out of nowhere, their arms hit out at me, their mouths hurled abuse. I must have been heavy -- all 70 kilos of me.

I flailed about for support, but couldn't get up immediately, burdened down by the schoolbag on my back.

Eventually, I broke free and escaped to the back of the bus, unable to stem the stream of abuse that still poured from their lips.

And which part of all this embarrassed me the most? The fact that some passengers thought I did it deliberately.

RELATED POST
Most embarrassing moment

When Tony became Tara

Back in my Delhi University days, I used to do the rounds of college festivals, participating in the one event that I ever had any chances of winning -- creative writing.

At one such event, I registered with a girl sitting at the front desk, and she clearly had too much on her plate.

"Name?"
"Tony Tharakan"
"What?"
"T-H-A-R-A-K-A-N"
"Again please"
"Tharakan. T-H-A-R-A-K-A-N"

Tharakan is a fairly common surname in Kerala but in New Delhi, it never rolls off people's tongues as smoothly as it should.

An hour after the creative writing competition, the twenty-odd contestants gathered to hear the results.

The top prize had been won by Tara Khan. But no one came forward to collect the cash.

As the rest of us looked at each other, wondering who or where Tara Khan was, the lecturer-in-charge went through the list of participants, reading them aloud and ticking off the names of those present in the room.

I was not on that list. But the mysterious Miss Khan had the same registration number as my winning entry.

The problem was solved, I got the cash and Tara Khan was history.

ALSO READ: Tony Tattle

India Blog Mela - August 2009

Suchitra Krishnamoorthi encounters the casting couch.

Great Bong gives readers the lowdown on the Unputdownables.

Silverine went for a shotgun wedding of the Goan kind.

Mathew attends a hochzeit im Hamburg.

Ramesh Srivats is blogging about happenings in Pigland.

Kapil knows what brought on the drought.

Krish Ashok investigates the case of the attempted mango pickle kidnapping.

Thomas Sebastian is a power saver.

Banno is caught in rush hour.

Sidin muses on the alphabetical ardour of life.

That's all for now. The September 2009 Blog Mela returns early next month. But before leaving, do please vote for the best post in the August 2009 Blog Mela.



Did you just come across a quirky, interesting or something-that-tugs-at-your-heartstrings blog? If yes, feel free to nominate it for the September 2009 Blog Mela being hosted here on October 2.

How to Nominate
- Leave a comment on this post OR better still - Mail me at toeknee (at) gmail (dot) com


RULES
- Posts must have been written by Indians or have an Indian angle
- Only posts published between 1-30 September 2009 would be accepted
- If possible, please nominate individual posts, not the whole blog
- Feel free to nominate something you have written. Immodesty appreciated
- You can nominate as many blog posts as you like - provided you really like them
- Only nominations received before midnight on October 2 stand a chance to be featured in the Top 10 list
- No, you don't get any moolah for nominating or getting featured in the Blog Mela. That could change once I am a millionaire but for now you'll just have to bear with me
- Yours truly reserves the right to nominate good posts which you ignore

PREVIOUS BLOG MELAS
2007
March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December
2008
January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December
2009
January, February, March, April, May, June, July

And Delhi's favourite FM radio station is

The results are in. And the winner of the blog poll for Delhi's best FM radio station is 93.5 FM.

Red FM 'Bajaate Raho' is the flavour of the season, winning 38 percent of the votes polled on the blog. Radio City 91.1 FM was in second place with a fourth of the vote.

Full results here

Two years ago, the then newly launched Meow 104.8 FM was the surprise winner of this blog poll with 28 percent of the votes cast. Hit 95 FM finished in second place with 20 percent, just a vote ahead of Fever 104 FM.

RADIO TALK FROM THE ARCHIVES
Adam moos better than Amit Varma's cows
Delhi's "all talk" radio station
Getting high on Fever 104
Ten hits in a row, anyone?

The mysterious old man

When I left for work this morning, an old man was standing outside my house. He smiled as I walked past and asked me where I was going.

"Office"
"And where is that?"
"Connaught Place"

Normally, most of my neighbours are strangers to me -- even if they happen to be residents of the same block of flats.

I am one of a breed of laptop-loving asocial beings, for whom the four walls of a house are like cocoons spewing forth humans, only to accept them back when they return from office.

But this stranger, who seemed like a harmless little man in his seventies, continued to address me as if I were a long-lost friend.

Suddenly, he raised his right arm in the air as if to strike me and started mouthing obscenities.

Taken aback, I smiled, took a few steps back and then continued on my way. As I reached the colony gate, I looked back and saw the old man still mumbling, his right arm still outstretched in the air, a frailer version of the Statue of Liberty.

I am not sure what was wrong with him. Perhaps, he is suffering from Alzheimer's. Maybe he mistook me for some former office subordinate who had irritated him.

Whatever the reason, I wondered why no one from his family was near him, why he was left free to prey on unsuspecting visitors, and did he even have a semblance of normal life?

I am not sure I want to know. The next time I meet him, I may not stop to chat. Will you?

(For more snippets from Toe Knee's life, keep reading his blog)