conversations with my shower

Conversations with my shower

Have any of you ever had conversations with your shower? Ever? Ever wondered how boring it would be to see the same four walls, all your life, and have a commode, a geyser, a bucket, and a basin for company, with a bathtub once in a while? Ever wondered what it would be like to only perform one piece of useful work for the people around you, namely sprinkle a few drops of water on them every morning, as they get ready for work, school, housewifing (is there even a word like that? Well, Microsoft’s ms-word seems not to like it, so screw them!), and their otherwise somewhat purposeful lives, while your purpose seems so useless?

My shower was telling me all of this a couple of days ago…we’ve been having a lot of conversations in the past couple of days (yes, that’s why I’m so clean for the past few days…before that, never bothered about baths really, except once a week)…I first noticed him (don’t look at me like that, how many of YOU have even NOTICED your shower, or your bucket, or whatever? At least I took that first step, so screw you!) the day after I spoke to my girl at like 11 in the night. The shower chap, who’s called Emraan Hashmi (yep, I pity him about his name, too), by the way, punished me like the sick people up in the Alps, who shove a couple of marshmallows up your nose, and then have a great time trying to shove a watermelon up the other place, with no concern of your natural incapability of anything larger than a ____ up there (feel free to fill up the blank, coz I have no clue of the exact identity of the largest (unfortunate) thing that can make a journey up there)…only Emraan Hashmi decided that I will feel the “pleasant weather” of the Antarctic, and the Sahara Desert, within 10 seconds of one another, when the outside temperature is on the wrong side of twenty degrees, and your immediate concern is to go through all the motions of dressing all your body parts in the right order, and not becoming one of them superhero characters, with their under garments not deserving the tag of “under”, any more…all this beacuse i talk to my girl at round midnight, the guy becomes green with envy, effing bastard...

After that disastrous ice-breaker (literally!), we began to get along better…he told me about his friend, Hind-fiend, the commode, who has a very weird fetish for people’s –how shall I say this- wind tunnel-and has happily transmitted that oddity to Emraan Hashmi …so they have weird conversations, extremely smutty and lewd, to say the very least, and we shall leave it at that. Though they do have some literary tastes, thanks to Yours Truly maintaining a mini-library in the loo…they’ve read Three men in a boat, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, Catcher in the Rye, Inscrutable Americans, and pretty much all the titles I’ve read in the loo…and to my delight, and a lot of other people’s disgust, they’ve invited me to come and spend time with them whenever I’m feelin’ blue…so, I plan to keep a small fridge with a decent collection of drinks (the overuse of which causes me to write stuff like this, and have the audacity to put it up on my blog), a small music system, a bookcase and a good beanbag…maybe in a while, I’ll shift my computer in there, so I can post blogs from my new hangout. Any of you who have bothered to read this useless article till this point are invited to meet my wonderful new friends, and have good time, generally.
So, till next time…oh, by the way, if you did actually bother to read this article till this point, coz you actually believe that I had some reason behind waxing eloquent about my shower, or coz you’re too weak minded to stop reading, or you don’t wanna be in a awkward position if I ask you about some particular part of the article, or you’re from a planet where you’d turn into a potato chip, if you stop reading people’s articles, or…whatever your reasons may be, this is where you can heave a huge sigh, coz this is the conclusion paragraph…yeah, shut up, you can scream with joy after these few words…yeah, so, like I was saying, till next time, when I come back with more unadulterated bheja fry, here’s completebhejafry wishing you a very good morning to you, completely regardless of the time when you’re reading this, and kicking my own backside to my loo, to meet my dear friend, Emraan Hashmi and Hind-fiend…