Boredom Wrote This

I woke up this morning and the first thought I had was that it had been two days since I brushed my teeth. Then Cookie jumped onto my chest and wagged her stupid tail.

In between the lungful of foul breath and dim-witted dog I was thinking; there is a limit to how many mornings a man can take of getting up with nothing to do. I was feeling so useless, it hurt a little bit.

WARNING: Excessive Boredom can cause your Head to Explode!!!

Anyway, I grabbed the newspaper.

I wish the papers had an infinite amount of news, followed by page after page of celebrity gossip and finally an endless gallery of gloriously intelligent women with brilliant boobs. Okay, okay I get that most people lead these really busy and kickass-grade awesome lives, (or so they tell themselves) and therefore have no time to briefly glance over more than 16 pages of news.

But there IS a market out there for The Infinite Times. ME!!! I am all for a newspaper that takes a full day to read, making it impossible to run out of things to do.

***

Just so that you know, I’m actually the epitome of dental hygiene and also the International Face (teeth?) of Oral Care for Patna. Oh well, I was the obvious choice, apart from owning the only electric toothbrush in the city I am also the only person, who knows how to, and does actually floss in Patna.

Sometimes I do such a fine job of brushing at night; I wake up with teeth so sparkling it’d be a shame to clean them immediately. The respectful thing to do would be to wait till after breakfast. But then some days I forget about it.

And so yesterday I had planned an epic, larger-than-life, post-dinner oral experience. It would begin with an elaborate fifteen minute session of power-flossing, which is basically normal flossing rigrously continued, till there is considerable bleeding. This would be followed by a two minute session of thorough tongue cleaning, ending in a coat of toothpaste (Colgate Active Salt) left on the tongue to destroy any remnant bacteria. Then a round of scrupulous brushing (toothpaste: Meswak, for variety and hence motivation). To end things on a high-note I designed a shorter second session of nuanced flossing and finally a gargle with industrial strength mouthwash.

You will never have to visit a dentist if you follow the above, and you will also be unanimously declared the most boring person alive. But then that’s a small price to pay. Also, a small warning, all this effort can make you hungry and you might feel mildly stupid if that were to happen.

So, anyway, I had it all planned and everything, but I fell asleep before dinner even.

***

If early man was never hungry he’d just have stayed back in his cave and led a life of intense sexual debauchery and passionate laziness. We would all be early men still! Now it’s debatable whether we’d be happier than we are now. I mean a life without any progress and hence no antibiotics or ipods can be painful, but at the same time there would be total absence of a lot of the evils of modern society - religion, clothes, wars, economic depression, Paris Hilton. I think it’s a profound question, beyond the scope of this blog. Maybe you the astute reader of this fascinating online journal could share some thoughts on this.

God’s a smart cookie that way, he could’ve made us without stomachs and with solar panels on our backs and ultra efficient wind turbines for ears but instead he forced us to move our asses by giving us an appetite. With that thought, I entered the kitchen, hoping it would give me something to do.

Severe boredom on its own can push man to accomplish much, but if it happens along with acute laziness then it’s a bit like stagflation, wholly unproductive.

So anyway, I didn’t feel like toiling over flavoured mashed potatoes or spicy mutton curry. Instead I just made some stupid masala to sprinkle over tea, to make my morning chai maid-proof. That woman has an honorary doctorate in the techniques and intent of turning tea into poison.

***

My home’s not exactly the repository of remarkable things to do. I mean the folks are awesome and Cookie is a whole lot of fun, but they sleep way too much to be of any real entertainment value. So I headed to work, on a Saturday!!

***

Desperate times can push a man to do the unthinkable, in my case, striking a conversation with my driver.

Prem Nath (Love God)! Hah, and you thought drivers were always called insipid names like Dubey or Choubey or simply Driver.

Now Prem Nath is no ordinary driver, he is a man of profound depth. He is a meek, deadpan depressed sort of fellow, no one has ever caught him without a frown or heard him speak beyond a few words and his first wife eloped with another man soon after the wedding.

But there's a colourful side to him; he paints his nails red and immediately married a second woman who the maid says is way prettier than the first one. Almost like saying, take that bitch! Except, like Droopy, Prem Nath would say it cheerlessly.

He is a dreamer; if I don’t tell Prem Nath to turn left for office; I run the danger of finding myself in another city. Sometimes he will just slow down the car and be oblivious to the subsequent violent honking and middle fingers. You have to poke him gently out of his abstractions, and he will respond by travelling faster than light and jumping all signals.

So anyway, I thought I’d talk to him.

Me (the God of Small Talk): What’s with the traffic? Is there a rally?
No Reply, my employer ego deeply hurt but not badly enough to forgo experiment.
Me (the Saint of Never-Give-Inn): I think there is… Prem Nath??
Prem Nath: (with disdain and mostly to himself): There seems to be a jam, hence all the cars.
There is a pause in the Universe; then the thunderous vibration of his philosophical account makes the car wobble a bit.
Me (shaken and stirred): Oh.

***

When you come to work on Saturday only to repel boredom there is a high chance of failure. But then what are blogs for?