Shirtless Shakeoffs: 
I should confess this title for the anecdote I plan to relate isn’t very tasteful and gives lurid suggestions, the first part of it harmless but the second a trifle lewd indeed.
It all happened once when I held the pompous post of a president of a fledgling social organization.
As part of the effort to boost its sagging spirits I decided to hold a state seminar (as done usually) gathering all my organization capabilities meager though they were.
Important functionaries were invited, bouquets bought, smiling children made available for bouquet presentations, all the finest of details gone into with microscopic precision and perfection.
Event management was certainly looking a distant career option if my present profession ever failed me ,I imagined myself holding conventions and star nites ,TV channels focusing their harsh lights on me while I conducted the proceedings with a cool smile and Teutonic efficiency .
The D day morning came and I hopped into the car with my second in command to personally escort the chief guest, a famous politician, known for his connections in the right and mostly the wrong places to the venue.
The huge gates of his house opened and barking dogs were kept in bay by resident domestics.
we were asked to wait in the sitting room ,by a man Friday more immaculately dressed than me and we sunk into the deep cushions , the clock ticked away and my mind raced to the auditorium where the millions ( actually a few hundreds ) waiting would be in a fury at the absence of expected activity .
Time for the politician who was the chosen chief guest wasn’t a very dear commodity specially that day as the rating he had given me and my meeting would have been pretty low.
Suddenly a charming well dressed lady looking like a movie star came and welcomed us pleasantly, she said her husband was having his bath and we would have to wait for some time more. Meanwhile we could have tea.
I mumbled about how grateful our organization was to her husband being the great man he is had agreed to come to our meeting and be its chief guest, what a honor! blah blah
As I sipped the tea I suddenly remembered the plastic bag I was carrying, in it was the new shirt I bought for the momentous occasion of my welcome speech and I planned to don it at the last moment possible, as I would like to present an unwrinkled countenance in the rare occurrence of total attention focused on me by all
Well why not I thought, this would be the best time, so I murmured “madam I just want to change my shirt, can I do it somewhere.”
The lady was very hospitable and didn’t bat an eye at my request (probably all organizers who came to invite her hubby changed shirts here routinely) she just pointed me to the bedroom nearby
“You can change in there “
I went in and locked the door, luxurious indeed these netas lived in style I thought,
I quickly removed my shirt and the cool gust of the AC caught my naked chest ,I felt fresh like a flower ,looking into the big mirror I couldn’t resist giving a WWF pose bunching my muscles and giving a menacing grin ,
what looked back at me from the mirror was not only a funny me but also a hairy pot bellied spectacle with a dripping scalp in the background and this thing had just come out of the bathroom .
I let out a shriek at the apparition !
on closer scrutiny of its face it took a striking resemblance to my politician guest of the day,
My God it was indeed him stepping out of his bath ,a short towel riding over his bulbous paunch,
The expressions that flitted through his surprised mind at seeing a shirtless spectacled idiot in his bedroom making monkey signs to his mirror were myriad and his face suffused with anger and confusion crimson in color merging slowly into red and he burst into an apoplexy of anger
“WHO ARE YOU and WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BEDROOM ? “
he boomed shaking my soul to smithereens.
I gathered whatever little of my lost dignity and gave him a winning smile
We organization presidents had always the presence of mind and custom made smiles
Ever ready was our universal mottos
“ Sir , I had come to invite you for the seminar .you know the seminar .”
He looked hard finding it difficult to comprehend and digest the message and he asked
“What what ? ? .”
“So, what are you doing in my bedroom bare chested ?.”
He had a point there, Hamletian indeed difficult to answer that question ,and no clues too
But I wasn’t put off
You want to debate count me in dear chap ,nothing puts us off
My dear man thought I ,
I can talk to you for hours on any topic even if it is on my shirtless status
TRUTH boomed my conscience that is what is needed now, made to order for the sticky situation
“ Well Sir ‘ I began “ your wife asked me to go in and do so .”
Like a burnt Ravan in a Ramlila I saw him falling down with a thud.
And thus that day to me ended outside an Intensive Care Unit of the local hospital ,instead of a seminar hall,
It ended with me praying for a politician who suffered a heart attack ,to recover and have eternal amnesia.
Harimohan
p.s: folks this is a real story slightly dressed up for brevities sake
I should confess this title for the anecdote I plan to relate isn’t very tasteful and gives lurid suggestions, the first part of it harmless but the second a trifle lewd indeed.
It all happened once when I held the pompous post of a president of a fledgling social organization.
As part of the effort to boost its sagging spirits I decided to hold a state seminar (as done usually) gathering all my organization capabilities meager though they were.
Important functionaries were invited, bouquets bought, smiling children made available for bouquet presentations, all the finest of details gone into with microscopic precision and perfection.
Event management was certainly looking a distant career option if my present profession ever failed me ,I imagined myself holding conventions and star nites ,TV channels focusing their harsh lights on me while I conducted the proceedings with a cool smile and Teutonic efficiency .
The D day morning came and I hopped into the car with my second in command to personally escort the chief guest, a famous politician, known for his connections in the right and mostly the wrong places to the venue.
The huge gates of his house opened and barking dogs were kept in bay by resident domestics.
we were asked to wait in the sitting room ,by a man Friday more immaculately dressed than me and we sunk into the deep cushions , the clock ticked away and my mind raced to the auditorium where the millions ( actually a few hundreds ) waiting would be in a fury at the absence of expected activity .
Time for the politician who was the chosen chief guest wasn’t a very dear commodity specially that day as the rating he had given me and my meeting would have been pretty low.
Suddenly a charming well dressed lady looking like a movie star came and welcomed us pleasantly, she said her husband was having his bath and we would have to wait for some time more. Meanwhile we could have tea.
I mumbled about how grateful our organization was to her husband being the great man he is had agreed to come to our meeting and be its chief guest, what a honor! blah blah
As I sipped the tea I suddenly remembered the plastic bag I was carrying, in it was the new shirt I bought for the momentous occasion of my welcome speech and I planned to don it at the last moment possible, as I would like to present an unwrinkled countenance in the rare occurrence of total attention focused on me by all
Well why not I thought, this would be the best time, so I murmured “madam I just want to change my shirt, can I do it somewhere.”
The lady was very hospitable and didn’t bat an eye at my request (probably all organizers who came to invite her hubby changed shirts here routinely) she just pointed me to the bedroom nearby
“You can change in there “
I went in and locked the door, luxurious indeed these netas lived in style I thought,
I quickly removed my shirt and the cool gust of the AC caught my naked chest ,I felt fresh like a flower ,looking into the big mirror I couldn’t resist giving a WWF pose bunching my muscles and giving a menacing grin ,
what looked back at me from the mirror was not only a funny me but also a hairy pot bellied spectacle with a dripping scalp in the background and this thing had just come out of the bathroom .
I let out a shriek at the apparition !
on closer scrutiny of its face it took a striking resemblance to my politician guest of the day,
My God it was indeed him stepping out of his bath ,a short towel riding over his bulbous paunch,
The expressions that flitted through his surprised mind at seeing a shirtless spectacled idiot in his bedroom making monkey signs to his mirror were myriad and his face suffused with anger and confusion crimson in color merging slowly into red and he burst into an apoplexy of anger
“WHO ARE YOU and WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BEDROOM ? “
he boomed shaking my soul to smithereens.
I gathered whatever little of my lost dignity and gave him a winning smile
We organization presidents had always the presence of mind and custom made smiles
Ever ready was our universal mottos
“ Sir , I had come to invite you for the seminar .you know the seminar .”
He looked hard finding it difficult to comprehend and digest the message and he asked
“What what ? ? .”
“So, what are you doing in my bedroom bare chested ?.”
He had a point there, Hamletian indeed difficult to answer that question ,and no clues too
But I wasn’t put off
You want to debate count me in dear chap ,nothing puts us off
My dear man thought I ,
I can talk to you for hours on any topic even if it is on my shirtless status
TRUTH boomed my conscience that is what is needed now, made to order for the sticky situation
“ Well Sir ‘ I began “ your wife asked me to go in and do so .”
Like a burnt Ravan in a Ramlila I saw him falling down with a thud.
And thus that day to me ended outside an Intensive Care Unit of the local hospital ,instead of a seminar hall,
It ended with me praying for a politician who suffered a heart attack ,to recover and have eternal amnesia.
Harimohan
p.s: folks this is a real story slightly dressed up for brevities sake
3 comments:
Hari, your good looks and attractive bare chest made him to swoon and might be he had MI. He wouldn't have bothered at all seeing me bare chested in his room.
that picture isnt mine swain
mone hari - adi kittathathu bhagyam!!! nevertheless, it made interesting reading. did he have amnesia or did u meet again to check??
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