Ditches

I have a history with ditches … the bad kind.  When I was a kid, one of our neighbours grew a whole lot of baingan in her kitchen garden, and then distributed to harvest to all the families unlucky enough to live near her house (rather generously I might add!)  It did not go down well with us kids – who wants to eat baingan in various forms every single day.  So the entire tribe of kids got together one sleepy afternoon and we plucked all the damn brinjals and threw them into a small pond a largish ditch full of water and ran off to our various homes.  Of course our crime did not go unpunished.  The damn brinjals floated to the surface, and we got royally spanked.  Yeah, I hate ditches.

Recently, while I was getting our home constructed, I made a habit of driving early in the morning to the site and bullying the contractor and the builder.  Soon both of them made a point of disappearing as soon as they spotted my car.  The poor labourers did not have that option, and had to bear the brunt of my anger.  Soon they had their revenge.  Right in the front, where now we have our front lawn, they had dug a huge area, which was full of wet soil.  To avoid the muddy water, they had placed planks and bricks.  I walked into the house, and blew my top.  Those idiots had used cracked floor tiles and it looked ugly!  I raved and I ranted and walked out in a queenly huff…. ….. Yeah you guessed it, ……….. right into the muddy ditch – fully clothed, with my mobile phone, etc etc.  The labourers hauled me out, and while I was spluttering and trying to recover, they picked up a pipe and hosed me down.  Somehow, while blushing with embarassment, I stuttered my thanks and slunked off to my car, desperately hoping to avoid notice.  But there was no escape. The contractor, who I had not seen on the site for the entire week, suddenly materialised,  followed me to the car with a huge bundle of old newspapers, and said in (I am sure totally false sympathy) Madamji, the seat will get dirty, please sit on these papers!  Speechless, I just accepted the darn newspapers, dumped them on the seat, parked my ass on them and fled.  Damn ditches!!

The ditches have struck once more.  My office net is not working.  The authorities have woken up to the fact that we do not have adequate stormwater drainage – so the roads are all dug up, and somewhere in the damn ditches is my office internet connection.  I am suffering major withdrawal symptoms and its all because of the ditches!

I think I should get a pooja organised, to appease the Lord of the Ditches.  Some divine intervention is desperately needed

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7 thoughts on “Ditches

  1. So I guess no one can ever ask you the question …” EVER BEEN DITCHED ” …:)

    Now why didnt I think of that one before 🙂 Very smart line LOL

  2. Ditch it , yaar:)
    Hope the last ditch attempt at drowning your cell phone didn’t do you or it any serious damage.

    🙂 Nokia cells are sturdy … so it got repaired. So is my ego – fairly healthy. That got repaired too 😉

  3. Pingback: Well! I have actually got two stories published! « Weaving a Web

  4. Pingback: Well! I have actually got two stories published! : Weaving A Web

  5. I am thinking of how the brinjals had the last laugh on you kids by floating to the surface and getting you all caught! Hahaha, And yes, like CP says, none can ask you if you were ‘ditched’!! 😆

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