I'b God a Cold!

Does snot accumulate in the brain? Somehow I think it does. You see, I've opened this site atleast 10 times this day itself and I still don't have a decent topic to post on. I blame the cold. The one that has conveniently deposited its phlegm in my lungs, beset the path of my synapses with roadblocks composed of phlegm, thus inhibiting my thought process and keeps my nose running like Shelob's lair spurting gooey, repulsive phlegm. You have no idea what that sentence sounded like when I said it out loud. Plug your nose, ears and any other orifice in your body with cotton plugs and try to recite the Rig Veda and you'll get the gist. So I guess today's topic is phlegm. If you're queesy or harbour a morbid dislike for Chinese Chopsuey and its ilk, I suggest you bail out now. But I warn you - Everybody who reads this post completely gets a treat from me.

When I was a kid, sitting on the frayed carpet of the nursery in our school, breaking toys, hollering, murdering the attendants with my histrionics and indulging in other heart-warming activities, there was always that one thing that distinguished me from all the other children who had sworn their allegiance to the noble cause of driving the teachers crazy - coz, seriously, we had a lot more interesting things to do than learn 'a' and 'b' and 'c' and 'e'.( I always skipped 'd'. I don't know why) A sincere apology on behalf of our batch to any surviving Junior school teacher(95/96 batch) reading this as I now realise what you went through. The initial burst of disapproval followed by the unending 'eeeeeeeEEEEEEEEAAAAAA' of a child on a plane or bus or movie theatre or anywhere within a 5 mile radius of me now drives me crazy. It's my kryptonite. We, of the preceeding generation bow to thee, O mighty squealers of the 21st century. Anyway, the only thing that made me different from all the other kids was my shiny, dribbling, red nose that grew several times its size when I was about to sneeze. I blame my father who still has a shiny, red, and almost always dribbling nose that's expanded to several times his face, regardless of whether he has to sneeze. Mine's kind of in the transition stage, tweeked, red and bent a little to the left. If you look close enough you might even see a strand or two of nasal hair. I hope you're ODing on information. Coming back to the point, I don't think I've ever had a more complete and strong relationship with anyone than the one I've had with phlegm. It's been there, everytime I'v been sick - making me cough out the germs I never knew I had, dripping through my nostrils and letting me know that they're temporarily out of service, stealing the aroma of food and making me resistant to body odour and bad breath, making me consume copious amounts of coffee, soup and bottles of Bryonia just to let me know...it's still there for me...it's always there for me. It's almost fulfilling. It makes me well up inside and want to expectorate. It makes me wanna grow microscopic and exterminate all the pathogens in my body myself just to keep the phlegm out. Yes, I appreciate your commitment dear phlegm, but sometimes I just wish you'd take a hint. Please get the fuck out of my life. I'd walk out myself, I assure you, if only it weren't my life I'd be walking out on and let's face it, you're not enough of a reason to make me wanna succumb to that. If it were your life you'd want me to walk out of, you would find that I'd done so already. I don't want to cough out in public anymore. It's embarassing. There's one thing I've noticed - no matter how dirty/wry/pathetic the words printed on your t-shirt are( And yes, I do have a penchant for t-shirts with witty captions) - hardly anyone notices( that is not very astounding since only about 40% of the people you pass on the street are literate, and only about 20% of them have the presence of mind to look at what's written on a stranger's shirt and an admirable 2% have the lack to take offence. All results have been experimentally determined and are accurate.) But spit out a giant booger once - just once - and if you still have enough chutzpah to glance at the face of the person standing beside you, you'd see the utter repugnance on his/her face. I think God would have the same look on his face if I decided to try and enter heaven - as if Hell itself spat out a giant squirming mass of seething phlegm on His doorstep and was now resting in divine complacance, reveling in the look of morbid shock on His face. The same reaction can be provoked in people by smoking in public or walking unsteadily, all tipsy on vodka or hash.

My point is( surprisingly, I do have a point), no matter how much you are grateful for the good that vile things do for you, there's always a part of you that detests it for being vile. So expectorate. And watch that blob of yellow-brown jelly, content that it's out of your life for now. Anyone who still has the stomach for Chinese chopsuey will be disappointed to know that I was only kidding. You can register your complaints in the comments section!