Road to hell - the beginning

While in college, we used to find the familiar phrase "ROAD TO HELL" furiously etched on every step that led to our classrooms.Just when I began to feel that Iam left with only these nostalgic memories from college to live with, I was pinched back into reality and made to realize that the familiar phrase still screams out at me with all its fury.....the difference being just that the HELL in that phrase has transmogrified (flicking one of my hero's terms...Calvin's terms I mean) from classroom to office.I do have lots n lotsa fun at office,enjoy being the lost-in-her-own-world joker of the training room........why is it then, that i call my journey to office, the road to hell? Here's why:

The first spot on the road is my cozy lil bed.I guess some kind of a better-than-fevicol-ka-jod glue spreads out magically on my bed while Iam asleep, refusing to let me tear myself away from my comfy bed early in the morning.For someone who's used to 12 hours of sleeping like a baby, getting up at 7:30am to catch the 7:45 bus is like getting up at midnight!As I rush myself thru the daily maintenance activities with half-closed eyes (thanks to which I had once spread dad's shaving cream on my toothbrush,mistaking it for tooth paste), my heavy self manages to gallop down the street with mom yelling the pyaara pyaara "pleeeeez eat something b4 u go" concerns out at me.Iam sure the gardener who works in the lovely glasshouse down the street definitely gets a shiver down his spine every morning when I gallop down with huge thuds,mimicking a mammoth-conquers-earth disaster, or more realistically an earthquake scenario.He lifts his busy head up to look at me rushing past n I see his frightened face curve into a warm smile.As I wave to him n rush past, I sometimes get lucky enough to reach the bus-stop in time.Everyone at the bus-stop without exception,shoots a "beware of her" or "which slum is she from" or "is that just hopelessly dishevelled hair or is it really hay on her head" or "that big company's tag that she's wearing.....does that major company really employ ragpickers n vagabonds like these" or "was her just-outa-bed kinda appearance just a faux pas or is she mistakenly headed for office instead of the psychiatrist's clinic?".By the time i shoot back the appropriate "I'll bite you if u look @ me like that" kinda glares at these people, my bus breezes into the stop.People shoot the final parting glance that shouts out loud "Iam sure she's boarding this cool-lookin luxury bus coz she's mistaking it for a 'save-the-street-children-from-turning-into-drug-addicts' van".Finally, escaping their preposterous pricky glares, I board the bus.

n at times when i don't get lucky enough 2 reach my bus-stop on time,I see the empty bus stop,miss those wicked glances n quickly embark on the huge task of maskaaofying Chubby to do a filmi ishtyle chase of my office bus.Just like how it happens in the movie stunts,Chubby's bike pulls up next 2 the bus after a 2km chase, manages 2 overtake it n go right in front of the bus,blocking its way.I look back n wave frantically at the driver,signalling to stop,with my forest-swampwaali hair flying carelessly all oer my face,adding to the sadak-chaap bacchi look.That driver guy has the nerve to shoot back a derisive smile n dismiss my request to stop sometimes.Just wait until I unleash my rowdy ways on him!Bbye 4 now bloggie.Got to go n catch my bus....I'll continue yappin tomo.