It was supposed to be a straightforward evening - go home, change, and climb 30 floors twice to get my dosage of physical activity. But it was not to be.
After checking the mail, I headed to the lift, thinking that the weather was kinda unsure whether or not to rain. I looked at the dead or dying cockroaches near the lift and thought that the stuff they used to fumigate the rubbish chutes was pretty potent stuff.
10th floor. The lift door opened. I walked to my flat and the sight that welcomed me caused (to use a Pri. 6 compo term) the butterflies in my stomach to flutter. More like, flutter until they exploded and came back as caterpillars.
4 black, probably slimy cockroaches were swarming on my Weinbrenners and India slippers. Upon closer examination, I saw that another two were hiding inside the Weinbrenners.
Many things were running through my head:
[In case you haven't figured out, I have cockroachaphobia]
This was crazy - to be blocked from my own home because of a few ugly bozos. I summoned all the courage I had, walked up to the meanies and gave the Weinbrenner and India slippers one hard kick.
The footwear flew. The cockroaches flew in different directions. They were probably shocked. I kicked the Weinbrenner again and two more ran out of the shoes. They tried hiding under the tyre of my bicycle, but I managed to make them flee for their lives. One came straight at me and got killed under my trusty Bata. The other went "tata" to the neighbour's house. The rest... well, they went away.
I wiped my perspiration and went home, and declared myself a winner. Or as they say in corny Hindi movies, a Tiger yaar! I deserve a bloody Olympics medal for this you know.
After checking the mail, I headed to the lift, thinking that the weather was kinda unsure whether or not to rain. I looked at the dead or dying cockroaches near the lift and thought that the stuff they used to fumigate the rubbish chutes was pretty potent stuff.
10th floor. The lift door opened. I walked to my flat and the sight that welcomed me caused (to use a Pri. 6 compo term) the butterflies in my stomach to flutter. More like, flutter until they exploded and came back as caterpillars.
4 black, probably slimy cockroaches were swarming on my Weinbrenners and India slippers. Upon closer examination, I saw that another two were hiding inside the Weinbrenners.
Many things were running through my head:
- I knew the Weinbrenners were stinking quite badly - but not this bad
- There goes my exercise routine!
- Crap - the butterflies in my stomach are multiplying.
- My mom's chicken briyani yesterday was damn good sia...
- Multiplying some more.
- What's Zayed going to think of me?
- Multiplying some more...
[In case you haven't figured out, I have cockroachaphobia]
This was crazy - to be blocked from my own home because of a few ugly bozos. I summoned all the courage I had, walked up to the meanies and gave the Weinbrenner and India slippers one hard kick.
The footwear flew. The cockroaches flew in different directions. They were probably shocked. I kicked the Weinbrenner again and two more ran out of the shoes. They tried hiding under the tyre of my bicycle, but I managed to make them flee for their lives. One came straight at me and got killed under my trusty Bata. The other went "tata" to the neighbour's house. The rest... well, they went away.
I wiped my perspiration and went home, and declared myself a winner. Or as they say in corny Hindi movies, a Tiger yaar! I deserve a bloody Olympics medal for this you know.
2 comments:
When there's something strange, in your neighbourhood, who do you call...?
"Roachbusters"!
(I ain't afraid of no roach).
LOL!!!
wimp.
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