Putrid Fresh Digits

2010: Happy New Year

Was that something great? Every year the message comes in the form of SMS, Personal mails, Spam mails, Forwards, Attachments; Happy New-Year! Huh! The only thing I noticed or came into my mind was that the last two digits have changed. It struck me hard; I was only considered about the last digit that has to be changed under my sign every year. (I started to sign authentically just Ten years before), now the Zero has to be altered into Numero Uno.

What had happened with the transformation from ’09 to ‘10. Any routine change? Any drastic or dramatic change? The sun rises in the West or the crow grew breasts to feed its siblings? No! The sun comes from the East and the crow carries a dirty earthworm. ’10 never stopped the people to slow down their pace unless it increased a bit. The Psychology of the society hasn't changed much. 

The aroma that carried over from the last pages of ’09 was the immorality drama of a politician. The jackals won’t allow a politician to spend a night with his lady cadre, but roar out loud without a proof of a money transfer for sexual pleasure or a live sexual activity show. My Left Foot!

A sharp ultrasonic wave passing through my ears shook me up from all these crap. It was originating from a child who was crying as loud as he can; he might have lost his plastic toy while the vehicle went pass the speed breakers of massive proportions. Forty-five minutes in the bus; from the railway station to my home town, almost fifteen times both the buses have gone past each other on the highway race course. Each of the buses was whooshing past each other barely missing the pedestrians, mo-bikers and even the side mirrors of the cars. They are the Goliaths nick named as LIMITED STOPS. The horns were like twenty trumpets blowing, Aahhh! Kurukshethra War! A lemon played its role by rolling between the legs of the passengers finding its way back to the sack from which it has fallen off.

Except for me it was common and no one was in a panic situation; especially seeing the conductor moving his way through the crowded pathway collecting money and distributing tickets with this saliva smeared fingers. The whistle dangling from his left little finger was talking to the currency notes that where entangled between his forefinger and middle finger. The pen sitting on his right ear made some obnoxious comments too.

Was it a revenge to get more trips after a three day Bus-Strike? Hartals, Bandh, Bus-Strikes... 2010! Giggle! It would not be rude if you whisper “GOD wanted to see Hartals and Strikes, so made PARASHURAM throw his AXE” (...that's what the epics say!)

Thanks to the driver who drove expecting the unexpected, the conductor who whistled the same time your first foot landed on the ground from the foot-board, or the unknown power; Thanks to whoever has the highest vote.  I landed on my home town walked towards my house.

Tail Piece: Thank GOD! For the next Ten years I just have to consider only the last digit.
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