Showing posts with label Comment / Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Comment / Humor. Show all posts

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Obvious Agent Arumugam




(Obvious Agent Arumugam is a comical character which I have planned to portray in my upcoming work of fiction. Here is a portion from the write up)

‘The arrogant and the crocodile hardly let go what they have at their hold’ Mimya used this adage when once I was so adamant with my silly argument that had pushed her to the verge of accepting defeat. Obvious Agent Arumugam was one such crocodile I often came across. Obvious Agent Arumugam as his name suggests had no secret operations or missions at his keep but his own living with tantalizing intellectual absurdity skirting freaky pragmatism bundled in pseudo philosophy.


The eloquent Mr.Arumugam was not a typical chatterbox, but a well tuned jukebox and all we needed was to drop coins of innocent questions which would kindle him instantly. He would play his intellectual tunes nonstop. He was dead sure that in the world things were just  the way  he had envisioned them and he had not an iota of doubt that they were the other way around. He loved to talk like a caged parakeet which had starved in self-imposed silence for aeons. Whatever was the matter, he never hesitated to open his mouth and unleash the barrage of words.  His knowledge included everything from Communism to Cannibalism, Adolf Hitler to Haruki Murakami, Arthritis ailment to Automobile expertise. We asked and he said, explained, elaborated and enlightened us without his enthusiasm dropping off a bit.  He had his wits alive as an owl which had its gaze fixed on a prey. He would tell us that how Jenny led an embattled life with Groucho Marx, the meekest of us would ask meekly ‘wasn’t it Carl instead of Groucho, Mr. Arumugam?’, then the owl of his wit would come into play. ‘You know Carl is synonymous to Groucho in German, very few people in history knew that Carl had been affectionately called as Groucho, even sometimes as Khrushchev’.

Arumugam was known for his uncompromising tidiness, for him godliness was next only to cleanliness. He was three times more cleaner when compared to any one of us. He washed his plate once before eating and twice after the meal. He would just sniff at the cup of steaming hot coffee and say that the cup had been washed only twice. Self-trumpeting came so naturally to Mr. Arumugam but he had the ability to sheath it in seemingly uncontrived humility.  When Obvious Agent Arumugam gets hold of a fart which can’t sting even the humblest of noses he would make tall claims to the levels of holocaust gassing and the never found WMD of Saddam Hussein’s Iraq. Yet he dared not to let go the fart through the butt portion of his pants beneath which, as some of us strongly believed, he had his divine brain. ‘You have your souls in your butt cleavage’ a poet wrote and Obvious Agent Arumugam chose to have his mind there for reasons not so obvious to us. For him the fart that passes through as a fart is something unacceptable since it was from his butt hole.

Without the likes of  Arumugam the world would be a place of acute oscitancy, so we are much indebted to them. By being so obviously sober they cause us our discreet laughs. 

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

The Dragon Ticklers

“If you can't take the heat, don't tickle the dragon.”- Anon.

For me this is a burning issue and even though I wanted to put it in the cold storage I was only able to keep it in the back burner for some time and now it has come out simmering. This summer the heat is unbearable as it was in the last and in the previous one and in the summer before that and… as our beloved ancient Freak philosopher, oops, Greek philosopher Thermalonics quipped, we never sweat it out for the second time in the same summer. Every time we step out of our house it is not the same old sun over our head.


The other day there was a heated argument between me and Mimya over the causes for this ever increasing level of heat. She accused me of releasing above normal amount of Green House Gases into the atmosphere. Bamboozled I told her that I do not own  a Green House, let alone a small house of any other colour and due to the acute shortage in LPG bottles supply the only gas  I release into the atmosphere is what that goes off when I use the loo. Dejected and angry she went out vrooming her bike and saying that I was such a moron who could never be taught the reasons behind the soaring mercury nowadays. I was so baffled to hear that Mercury is soaring; I guessed it is going to go up, up and up and into another galaxy thus leaving our solar system with just seven celestial bodies (I am not that bad a moron to have not known of the recent demotion of Pluto). If Green House Gases could drive a planet away from its place I thought it is indeed a matter of great concern.


Eating meat is one thing that adds to the planet’s temperature, I came to know. The reason is so gnarled and crooked like cankered ivy. It takes about some 20 kilos of plants to add a single kilo of flesh in a slaughter house animal. So whenever you have a mouthful of juicy beef or mutton it is actually 20 mouthfuls of green plants that goes down and vanishes into you. As we eat the cattle that eat the plants that protect our planet from heating…. you got it. So behold meat-eaters! You are all culprits and you are always denied a warm welcome into our eco-sensitive world. (‘To give up meat or give a fillip to the global heat’ is what our eco-friendly meat-eaters are contemplating hard now.)


If the sun goes on baking us folks at this rate we better equip ourselves to get prevented from being grilled like pepper bacon. The electrical gadgets like fan and air-conditioners are of no use in our land of never ending power-cuts. Our scientists (not the ones who involved in making cryogenic engines, Cry-O-Genic?) should come out with appliances which would not require power to run. Huge windmills at whose sight Don-Quixote drew his sword to fight will come handy. Windmills not only have wings like fans which would facilitate the blow of wind but also help in grinding flour and drawing water  from well. We can produce even electricity with the help of a windmill. The problem is we need enough wind to move the huge wings. This too can be solved by felling the remaining, sparse trees in our habitats to pave way for the free blow of wind. (If some political party, taking a cue from me, announces in its manifesto for next year’s assembly elections to issue free windmills to all Family-card holders, I won’t be responsible for that. Yet, the sight of having windmills strewn all over the Tamil landscape will indeed be a sight unmatched. This will eventually lead to the sprouting of Cervantes’ and Marquezes in our literary arena and branching of magical realism in all spheres of life.)


As I go on typing this note Mimya reads from behind and murmurs, unscrewing an imaginary nut from her temple… ‘The heat has got its first victim here….’.