uses informal language (mama - a reference to an uncle/someone of that age.)
"What is this Ramanujam? On an Ekadasi day, close to six PM you are walking homewards with oil on your head? It can't get any more inauspicious than this," Sarma mama was livid. I saw him from a distance and tried my best to get away from his line of sight. Unfortunately, my bald and oiled forehead gleamed in all its glory in the setting sun and was good enough to let sharp-eyed Sarma mama catch me red handed.
"No mama. I stepped out to buy some shampoo. I was preoccupied and entered the saloon by mistake," I gave him a lame excuse.
"Fine. you entered by mistake. But why did you get an oil massage? You could've walked out, no?" he asked. I needed to cook up something else. And cook up, I did.
"Mama, do you agree I need to have a head bath, just for having entered the saloon?" I asked.
"Yes. You need to. Coming in contact with someone in the saloon is good enough," he said smacking his forehead in disgust.
"That too, because I am coming out at six o' clock on Ekadasi."
"True true," Sarma mama nodded vigorously, his eyes half closed.
"So, I thought anyway I entered the saloon and need to have a head bath. Why not get a massage? " I said.
Sarma mama smiled.
"Mischievous fellow. Now go have a bath quickly and never do this again," he said and clipped me round the ear.
"Mama," I called out as he resumed walking.
"What?"
"You also need to bathe right away."
"Why?"
"You touched me."
"You sinner!" I could hear Sarma mama yell repeatedly till he reached the bathroom for his purificatory bath and slammed the door behind him.
YOU ARE READING
BaloneyOpus
RandomBaloney Ahoy!!! When I run into this messy state of not being able to write something worthy of being called 'writing' (which is most of the time) and want to get out of the rut, I pin all my hopes on drivel. BaloneyOpus will be my writer's bloc...
