The Most Impractical Practical Joke Ever

Before I start narrating my series of unfortunate events, simply for the sake of convenience, I will be addressing the pervert who is responsible for the entire ordeal I had to go through last evening as ‘he’, although I am well aware that it may as well have been a female who might have done this.

So, yesterday my conscience had a sudden spurt of much delayed and postponed health consciousness, which was more or less also by default, and so I came cycling to work. All went well, the day went fine, and then it struck six and I was all ready to leave, having finished my work at the computer and the work at all my friends’ computers (just standing and making small talk that is) after which I bolted. And lo behold! Some perverted anti-social element thought it would be extremely funny, the kind of joke that would make Woody Allen and Russell Peters stand up and take notice, to remove the air from my cycle tires. Ha ha.

Well you know what happened then? I firstly had to go walking halfway home till I found a highly sidey shop, run by highly sidey people, in a ghetto corner of the road, from where I got my tires filled with air, and till I reached that place, I was followed by another loser who was walking aimlessly behind me, getting some sadistic pleasure in following me. Finally, I reached home an hour later, angry, upset, annoyed and disturbed.

I know there were lots of alternatives to handling this situation, like leaving my cycle and going home by rick, and then coming back to get my cycle in broad daylight. Yes, I agree that would’ve been a much smarter option, but only if I’d have known that walking a few 700 meters on the road is not safe for a girl, that too one who is covered head to toe (even my face was covered in fact, thank-god for the pollution). And some other sub-perverts might be wondering that if I am a girl, why the hell did I risk coming on a cycle to work anyway? Yes, for girls to be safe, everyone needs to be a frikking millionaire cuz if you’re a girl, you’re only safe if you travel by car, that too not just any car, but one which has tinted windows and bullet-proof glass.

There are hundreds of girls out there who don’t have the luxury of owning a two-wheeler, so they have to take to walking, cycling or using public transport while returning from their schools, colleges and jobs at night. And all they can do is turn a blind eye to the sexually deprived perverts around, while the world waits for something so gruesome to happen to these poor, unsuspecting girls, that it makes it to newspaper headlines, even after which people will say "What was the need to be out so late? Serves her right" Thank-god my face was covered the whole time last evening, lest I’d have puked on half the losers I encountered on the way, with their visibly surfacing libidos.

I am not writing this article so that people can shower me with sympathy, because if you open the dictionary, you’ll find the word sympathy between s**t and syphilis. This is only to show how one intellectually challenged person with the most contorted sense of humor can cause so much of trouble and angst for an unsuspecting girl.

So unless that sexually incompetent idiot who made me have to go through this highly unnecessary and uncalled for ordeal is so convoluted in his head that he still doesn’t feel an inkling of remorse, then people, beware, because we have a future Jack the Ripper among us. The least he can do (if he has any balls at all) is come and apologize to me, because as it is, for all the curses that I showered on him yesterday, the least that will happen to him is that he will die an extremely slow and painful death (most probably pancreatic cancer, coupled with a bullet in the stomach in the last stages of the cancer) after which he will burn for all eternity, right there, with Hitler, Mussolini and Milošević in the hottest hell fire, which will, by the way, be fanned by the air he removed from my cycle tires. Amen.