Many Murphys have walked the face of earth over the sands of time. A couple I can recollect include Zimbabwean leg-spinner Brian, and the American superstar, Eddie. But, no one can get even close to the genius of Edward, the brain behind the Murphy's law. If anything can go wrong, it most definitely will! I promised a friend that I would make a post this Saturday, but I least expected it to be about this law, until it came and plagued my life today.
Off to the start of the day, bad food at home, a total rarity. Bland sambar, and an awfully tasting kootu, the day began badly. I puked just before leaving for institute. There, I get the keys of room ESB 127, and wait from 9 to 10.30, desperately in wait of the TII intern recruiters. They'd asked me to be there at 9.30, and they came at 10.30, the time of start of the exam. The exam goes on for an hour, and after correcting the papers they go for lunch.
I go to Tiffanys for lunch. Lunch planned being a thayir-vada, due to acute cash crunch. Status at Tiffanys, thayir vada unavailable. Pissed off, I return to the DCF and sit in front of four computers, which don't work one after the other. Following all the disappointment, I walk back into ESB 128, where the interview is scheduled.
By this time, the interviewers are back. They give me a list of 8 people to interview, and tell me the interview process will go on for 6 hours. This pisses me off even more. I stay on, outside ESB 127, "cheering" people up, and "infusing" confidence, as they go in to attend their interviews. All I get in return, "Macha, Vout is 22V in that analog second question, not 28V", the same dialogue repeated by every passer-by such that the dog standing outside ESB 128 might have gotten affluent with the value of MuNCox by the end of the conversations.
Following that I leave for Richi street, to go and collect my laptop. Laptop switch repaired, but frame damaged, battery gaali! I somehow manage to make a temporary fix, save 50 bucks on 1800, and get scooty onto Mount road. Scooty stops, push begins. Piston gaali, oiling poor, vandi needs to go for an overalling. I push the vehicle to 6-7 mechanic shops, all say some or the other variation of the same core idea. The last shop I ended up in, was at the end of a slum, with people in the slum mindlessly watching a revenge drama on Kalaignar TV, while I am left to my own thoughts wondering as to who I need to take revenge on. Vandi got towed back to a mechanic shed in Mylapore after waiting for an hour outside Express Avenue, for the mechanic to come.
In all, Piston gaali, vandi gaali, laptop frame and battery gaali, no food for 10 hours, whatever I expected cupping, a terrible day!!
2 comments:
Dei Ritchie street spelling wrong in your post.
Dei mayiru, na enna feeling la post panna nee enna kevalama comment panre.. Adhuvum, it is not Ritchie street also anyways, its Narasingapuram 1st street!! Poi muttiko!
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