Help Me.

Thank you.

For answering my cry for help. There are a hundred things going wrong in my life right now, and I am hanging from a precipice, waiting for someone… anyone, say Mr. Goyal, or Trooplijaah, or even Mom to pull me up and save me…or not.

But Mr. Goyal, as I noticed this morning, is busy with matters that are more important than helping a neighbor in need. Mrs. Goyal has still not learned to prepare tea per the taste of Mr. Goyal, and according to what half the block heard, Mrs. Goyal has been practicing the craft of tea-making and trying to poison Mr. Goyal for the last 35 years!

I cannot expect help from a man who’s being poisoned by his own wife now, can I?

Trooplijaah has developed a hatred for us earthlings, and we all have a certain Peeeyoookkkhaaa to thank for it. As I hang from this cliff, clinging to dear life; he watches me from the shadows, smirking and grinning. “When I needed your help, you sided with Peeeyoookkkhaaa, and now you want me to pull you up? When I wanted to meet her, you shut me in that carton with a copy of Bhagwad Gita! Isn’t it written in Bhagwad Gita – the soul is immortal – water cannot soak it, wind cannot dry it, fire cannot burn it – the soul doesn’t die, only the body does. Recall from your book of infinite wisdom that this body is just a fashionable piece of clothing for your soul; when the fashion changes, your soul too removes the old out-of-fashion dress and dons the new one!”

Tell me, how can I expect a uni-eyed man I wronged just a few months ago, to help me?

Mom comes right to the edge of the precipice, asks the maid to pull her a chair of gold, and perches herself upon it. Then she looks down at me and my bloodied fingers that about to slip on the stone slick and slippery with my blood, then waits for me to cry for help. “Mom, help. Pull me up,” I swallow my pride and cry for help. Her eyes drill deep into mine, then she snickers. “Lodh padi to aagaya maangne, (when a need has arisen, he comes requesting help,)” she says, chewing then spitting each word at me.

Her words, more than the sharp nudge of her stick on my fingers, throw me off – not just off the cliff, but off the desire to fight and to live. My fingers slip and I find my self falling into the gorge below – I feel the air scrape against my skin; I hear its roar through my reverberating eardrums; I see the ground rush up to meet me – and I close my eyes. Knowing that my life as I knew it was over – Knowing that even if I survived the fall, I’ll be maimed for life, in those few seconds, I pray that I die.

When I survive with my limbs gnarled and twisted from the fall, Mom looks at me, repelled by the sight of me, then tells anyone who’d listen, “I could’ve saved him, but he didn’t ask for help. I even had a rope with me, and I’d have held it for him, had he asked me properly. It’s his fault that he’s in this shape, you see.”

 

I shall be operational soon. I think my heart is beginning to beat again – the beat is slow and out of rhythm, but wifey believes that with her love and support, I shall soon be back in action again. Anandhotep to has sent me a get-well-soon card. (Who could’ve guessed that the man still has a heart under those rotting, stinking bandages?)

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About Anand

Parodist, Humorist, Caricaturist, Nerd.
This entry was posted in Personal, Satire and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

25 Responses to Help Me.

  1. Wandering Soul says:

    Bwaahaaaahaaaa! Serves you right for trying to marry me off to that one-eyed one-piece. By the way, had you asked me nicely I would have helped too. 😛 As always, I side with your mom 😛 Anandhotep, I always knew, is a kind soul under all those white swathes.

    A very entertaining read early in the morning. Thanks (That last bit is from Jadoo, not me )

    Liked by 1 person

  2. rumpydog says:

    Fear not! The dog will save you!!!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. oneta hayes says:

    Grandmother that I am, I do not trust your mother. She must be someone’s daughter-in-law! I’m right behind wifey passing the band-aids to her as she lovingly comforts and heals.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Anand says:

      Thank you, Oneta. I am grateful to have at least one of my blogger friends supporting me in my crusade against moms who had no business being moms – a politician, a mercenary, even an undertaker, perhaps! Wifey sends her gratitude.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Where is darling faithful dog and wifey? They can’t let you fall off the precipice. Thanks for a good morning laugh.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. rosemawrites says:

    Goodness Anand! HAHAHA. If my boss isn’t behind me now I could have been rolling on the floor now! HAHAHA
    This isn’t fictional right? So i hope your hearts beats faster now! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Oh my! Now I feel petty for whining over my own sick self when obviously you are in far worse shape than I! Hope you’re healing up well!

    Like

  7. Jackie says:

    My goodness! What did you do? Hope you’re having fun with us, and not really hurt!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Anand says:

      Black humor isn’t my kind of humor, but sometimes words just bubble out of the corners of your mouth and drip on the paper. The right thing to do is, crumple the paper up into a ball and throw it away – but I thought, why waste an opportunity to make people laugh 😀

      Like

      • Jackie says:

        Stinker! Thought something was really wrong! But glad to know it was just a laugh. By the way, had some Cardamon tea at an Infian restaurant here, except they called it Masala Chai. Yummy. Need to get some cardamom!

        Liked by 1 person

      • Anand says:

        Something was wrong, Jackie – but nothing that time won’t heal. Another decade and my wounds would stop bleeding. But as I said elsewhere, I love fiction because it overpowers reality and makes it part of itself. Thank you for asking – I appreciate it. About the masala chai – it has spices other than cardamom. Cardamom alone is too mild for the Indian palate – we spice up our tea with ginger, cinnamon, cloves, and pepper…among other things (for instance, the holy basil.) I’ll ask wifey for a cup of cardamom tea, now…and tell her that I didn’t want it but Jackie made me ask for it 😀

        Liked by 1 person

      • Jackie says:

        You do that, Anand! And ask her to stick one in the transporter to beam to me. Lol

        Liked by 1 person

      • Anand says:

        Sure thing!

        Like

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