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| The Police Dress |
| Monday, February 18, 2008 |
Last weekend, a friend of mine went to this shop near Marathalli,(a place notorious in the pub capital for spoiling your shopping glee by putting up items on sale which you are wearing right then). He was looking out for a trouser that he could wear and go to the gym. He had already bought a water bottlel that breathes, a cap, a band, special deospray and leather gloves. Inspired by the girls in the gym.Nothing bad given he doesn't follow them while working out.
Okie, so he zeroed on to a trouser which looked straight out of a combat US ranger legs. Dark green leaves designed for camouflage.
He asked me: " Howzz this, dude?" I hurriedly pushed the shirt i was examining deep into the pile realizing I bought the same one in a brand shop and threw an honest remark.
"That suits you."
"Cool. Chal."
I heaved a sigh of relief . One of the most demanding, tiring pastime is to accompany a friend for shopping.Luckily, It was he, by the virtue of which I was immunized from either paying for the bags, caps,( can some validate if there is a sadist pleasure in forcing men to buy freakingly expensive accesories and not wearing them anytime) or holding those hefty and annoyingly noisy carry bags out of american chivalry.
That trouser actually unfolded a few event of my childhood.
I used to derive utmost pride and gratification in emulating someone's dress when was a kid, swear I'm kid stilll in more than 1 way.
Easiest and Prime victim of my whim was my elder bro. I made sure I accompany mom/sis when they went shopping on festivals for us. This was to ensure we wear same clothes on Holi/Dushera or whatever.
My poor bro, who was in his early teens i suppose, was pissed off. I wore the clothes early enough to be spotted first by relatives/friends/neighbours.
Now, when my bro went out .. he used to hear the jigs
"Why did you wear Dheeraj's shirt?"
"Hey look same dress as his bro".
Bro hasbeen sweet. He simply either continued or changed the dress. His angst came only during games we play. I was always discarded or given special discounts which used to hurt my ego.
Police dress episode:
I was in my village when everyone was surrounding me to hear a 7 year old kid is delivering his intro in English. My dad was seemingly excited in anticipaton of his son's praise by the jealous villagers.
He stooped low to my face and said" Dheeru Beta, give your introduction in English."
"mmmmm,, Na". was beta's sweet reply.
"Dheeru: You not scared of me?" Thunders the wind over my wavy hairs.
"mmmm, My police dress" My latest demand after the dark red tanned disco dress has sweeped off my feet.
Afraid of embarrassment and blasphemy, he conceded. "Will buy you while getting back to city. Ok?"
" Iam Mr. Dheeraj Kumar. My fathers name is Y K pandey. mmmm. Mr. Y K Pandey.
Closing my eyes with full force and commanding others to Erase all. Restart.
"I am Dheeraj. My father's name is Mr. YK... I read in.. My hometown, district,.. Post.. Police station..." Perfect shot.
I din't given a damn about the praise being showered on me or the scintillating dad's face. All i was dreaming was the "police dress".
On the way back home. I managed to catch a dress- a police dress hanging outside a shop. The board was so soiled that I couldn't read out the name of shop.I was on Priya scooter, standing on the foot-rest in front. It came involuntarily to me and i switched off the running engine.
Before dad could ask me why i did that, i screamed with childish lisp.
"Police dress!!!!!!!!!!!!" I almost stood on my thumbs , moving my hand right against his face, taking attention of his eyes towards the dirty, paleolithic police dress.
"You promised, buy now." Right in face. I am still same, straight.:) .
"hey, it's really bad. I will buy in the city." came the learned voice.
High on the heels already, I did a Mithun jump and "THUDD" on the dusted road and started rubbng my butt on road in anti-clock wise direction making semicircle on its locus and my little head in polaritically opp direction. As if trying to create an induction current.
"My dad being so genteel, picked me up from dust and gave those little good-boy doses..
"You are so sweet. This is an act of uneducated low classed kids. See , everyone is looking , Stand up and show them that u are obedient kid."
Motions -- faster, stronger.
Slap on the face and engine started .
My dad left me craving for attention and started driving away. Fearing my cries will be quashed by the engine sound, I enhanced the volume levels. Seeing no signs of mercy. I changed the frequency. "Sorry... mmm"
Here comes my dad and there goes my Police dress.
P.S: I got it eventually though.and a few more, Nehru dress and Jitendra shoes.
~DLabels: Humor, Turn The pages |
posted by Dheeraj @ 8:19 PM   |
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