THE CAT AND DOG STORY

THE CAT AND DOG STORY

I caught her paw and kicked some dust,

While our enemies eyed us with disgust!

They have dogged us since old times,

Coz I hogged the limelight with my crimes!

A notorious dog I have always been,

And in my company she is evermore seen;

Beginning from the day I heard her meow,

When we had a row but my heart I did endow;

Because love was a spark and made my tail wag,

Her smile was a mark that I earned the ‘lover’ tag.

Soon we were partners and made matters aggravate,

Because we were law-breakers, I and my doting cat;

Together we robbed many of the town,

Never spared a kitchen of any banker or clown!

Thus we made many foes, both canine and feline;

And they envied us for not falling in line!

Their jealousy grew over my fame and Katy’s charm,

So they all teamed up to cause us utmost harm;

Chased us in every nook and corner till today,

And we had walls on three sides to our dismay.

They all laughed wildly to find us thus confined,

Planning to hear Katy’s whimper while I whined,

Lying in my death bed when they fired every gun,

But I can never see Katy crying and thus I was not done!

I caught her paw and kicked some dust,

While our enemies eyed us with disgust!

And thus we escaped the trap because we are,

One romantic couple you can't put behind the bar!

THE FISHY STORY

THE FISHY STORY:

            I am working on an expert suggestion to empathize with a fish by looking into its eyes before it becomes the victim of my atrocious appetite. Once in the middle of the fish market, the task of hand-picking one out of the many varieties is confusing and thus difficult. I have very little knowledge about fish and none whatsoever about the local names of its types. I confess that I know only a few names in my mother tongue!

Today’s venture proved a little bit more exacting because the task was to find a big-eyed fish! After a cursory glance in every direction, I pointed my index finger at an array of sleek flattened fish flashing a silvery body, wet with thawed ice, and with a small head bearing a protruded lower jaw like a bull dog. The eyes seemed bigger than the other species. So I decided to buy that. But before I told the fish-monger to chop, weigh and pack 300 gms, I looked into the right eye of my dead prey! It was circular with an inner black dot and looked no different from the eye of a living fish because it was constantly staring at me! The fixed look not once appeared bereft of life!

I also bought prawns to add variety to my buy!

            Once at home, I became curious to know names of fish types found in India and after an hour with Google I believed I was fairly educated. Images of Mackerels, Carps, Catfish, Sardines, King Fish and Lady Fish appeared familiar. They escaped being my choice today. The protagonist of my story was probably a Herring! As I looked into the eye of its fellow in an enlarged JPEG image, it appeared like a target every time! Arjun too had famously hit a fish in the eye!

            I made the final nod of acceptance about the name of my buy and I recalled the term “herring-bone pattern”! It made me greedily imagine a pile of fish bones! I cooked the pieces of the Herring and also the less mentioned prawns and ate a sumptuous meal.

Dave Matthews' Big-eyed Fish:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ZTD1QfSmHc

            

THE ALTERNATIVE

THE ALTERNATIVE

            “What is the alternative?” The Boss thus thundered! He had his reason. And the stare allowed no room for anything other than an abject surrender by nay saying! When the question is differently put, the uniformity of ayes is equally striking. Seven brains seem wired to his and the conduction is uni-directional. He is the domineering kind. He sets the goals and browbeats his men to achieve it as well as he wishes. There is no gainsaying for anything less!

            Outside his domain, the alternatives are plentiful! He scoffs, but only before himself, at the chaos of too many ego-driven people trying to do one thing in many different ways. He watches several such examples every day and he grows more certain that there is no alternative. He also cannot see it another way!

Thus, he continues to call the shots with a scorn and a swagger!

THE COUNTER-STRIKE

THE COUNTER-STRIKE

           

It was not difficult for Leon to understand that his days at the top were over! He had the habit of assuming centre stage wherever he was! But, of late, Noel was proving to be more than just an irritation.

It all started months ago, with the former ridiculing the latter in front of a significant crowd. It was Leon’s nature to belittle other people who looked the type who could be overawed with high-decibel wordiness into figuratively kowtowing before him, which he preferred to occur in full public view so that as big an audience as could be managed celebrated his superiority while he basked in glory and the badgered unfortunate fellow was left nursing his mortal wound!

Once in a while however someone comes along who does not take loud words at face value!

Noel belonged to that breed and Leon failed to recognize and hazarded to play his usual game. After patiently suffering for quarter of an hour being at the receiving end of the tirade of vicious innuendos, cruel sarcasm, penetrating criticism, snide remarks and inexact and smoothly misleading comments and thus almost being demolished by that overwhelming armamentarium, Noel employed his counter!

Noel’s insouciant smile was the incongruously surprising opener of the riposte. He wore a carefree and even-tempered look and spoke in a soft but engaging tone and while he inwardly deliberated on every word that he chose to voice out, he enacted his performance with absolutely unhindered spontaneity! He dug out the half-truths in Leon’s much cheered speech and cleaned the grime! These were plentiful and slowly but eventually people gathered there could not deny the falsehood of many of Leon’s statements! Noel thus drilled a chink in Leon’s armour!

After three months, the buttress of Leon’s infallibility was no longer there. It was gradually dismantled and on every occasion, the mortar that shelled it came from within! It was merely deflected again and again to accomplish a successful counter-strike!

What's with a misspelling?

When people ask me why I misspell my name “Gorov” I usually do nothing better than tackle it with a goofy smile so that the entire pleasure is of the questioner’s! The first impression continues to be a weak link. A few times in the past, however, I have shaken my disinclination in explaining that Gorov is like “Go” “Rov”! And since Rov is a very much usable syllable as with “Rover” or “Roving”, it suits my purpose! I would like to deny that it has anything to do with sounding like Russian even though tennis-playing lasses from that country are very much physically attractive and can easily be subject of male fantasy disputably making such a dismissal uncertain!