OVERNIGHT STAY AT CHANDIGARH

“Of all the things that tax a man’s patience, there’s nothing to compare with a stuck zipper.” —anonymous.
Unlike many people’s opinions, I am very much human and harbor my own little fears. The last thing I shall talk of is the night spent at Chandigarh.
At 4o’ clock Saturday afternoon I was at “Neelam”, (movie theatre) Sector 17 Chandigarh, straining my sensory organs real hard while watching “Fashion”. I had never expected to find such atrocious screen and sound systems at a theatre located in one of the most posh areas of Chandigarh. Now, those of you who have seen “Fashion” are aware of the deprecating comments made in this movie on this (erstwhile) “beautiful” city and I very much concurred having been made to sit on one of those torturous wooden chairs which that theatre sported.
However, the movie was well-made and the fact that so many models had been stacked up in a two and a half hour movie was a treat for the eyes, whatever be the screen quality.
Once out of “Neelam”, we had no more complaints against sector 17. Our roving eyes found no rest for the rest of the evening. What Calcutta lacks is a decent “SQUARE” like the one in sector 17. It has a large number of showrooms and food courts as well as serves as a perfect evening hangout for one and all. We stuffed ourselves with pizzas n sundaes, rare delicacies for residents of Kurukshetra. (The last time I had asked for pizza in Kurukshetra I had been offered sliced “pyaaz” by the waiter…with a smug smile of course). At another shop, booze was being sold off at reduced prices. What more incentive would anyone have needed to let the “Gandhis” fly out of their wallet? But…
(Now in life there’s always a But and of course the other butt too). My friend Kamal (whom I had mentioned in the Amritsar trip) was the cause and effect of both the “buts”.
Kamal out of a morale breakdown (or should I say awakening), at the end of the movie “Fashion” was so petrified by “Kangna ranawats” state that he resolved to abstain from alcohol for the rest of his remaining days and with all his heart n might(read butt), prevent us from doing so too.
I got my left ear pierced. Kamal joyously went for the right. I didn’t even try to ‘butt’ him out of it. After all the holes had been created and filled, Kamal gave me a huge smile. He had never looked so gay indeed. (Pun most definitely intended)
BUT my joys didn’t last long for I had to share the room for the night with Kamal (and yes, his butt too…)
(Now----Earlier in the day…)
The gorgeous psycho-analyst returned today to once again stir up all those unfelt emotions and let alien sensations run all over my body along untraveled paths. She was to take our psyche-stability tests today. It was to be a written one. She had a sore throat and she said it hurts when she spoke. I offered her a strepsil. She reluctantly accepted but nonetheless gave back a hearty smile for which my classmates could’ve even resorted to killing.
We were then divided into groups and had to perform a small skit. I wrote the script. All went well. My group performed decently. She commented “Badal you write well…”.
It would’ve all been perfect but for… (There’s always a But…to understand what had happened read the quotation in the 1st line).