Getting locked inside somebody’s washroom

First things first – I attended Caferati`s Delhi Meet on Sunday evening (from 4.30 p.m. to 8 p.m.). I was accompanied by wife Rekha and daughter Rhea. I know it does sound like a Minister’s entourage…but I am not yet a Minister.

We landed at the meeting place at 5.30 p.m. – a full one hour behind schedule – and after the third person had read his article, a break was announced. Like the innocent boy (or should that be man?) that I am I headed straight for the washroom.

There was a queue of four people. What is with writers? Why do they always rush for the washrooms? I wondered even as I stood in the queue. The writers going in were taking so long that …I started thinking of how Charles Darwin`s theory of Natural selection (and Evolution) applies to writers.

Here is how: I think the writers of the iron-age were actually the territory markers. These good for nothing men (and later women) were sent to urinate around the territory because they weren`t strong enough for running, jumping & lifting – the three prerequisite for becoming a hunter. I am told blogging didn`t exist back then.

Over a period of time, these territory markers learnt to write “I” while they pissed. With time, they were able to write complex alphabets like “H” and “C”. With practice, they moved on to the absolute killers like “B” and “W”. Let me remind you that back then only the men acted as territory markers.

In order to write more, the ‘writers` started drinking more water from the water hole…and started to mark more territory. Eventually, they started writing whole words like “Sky” or “Goat”. As time passed by, territory markers who could hold more water in their urinary bladder were promoted as senior territory markers and thus flourished while those that failed the natural selection fell by the way side.

After a few centuries…women joined the party. Thankfully, by this time the ‘writers` had started writing ON THE cave walls.

Ever since, people with huge bladders have ended up becoming writers…and with no territory marking to be done…they end up crowding the washrooms at every writers meet.

It seemed like ages, before I got a chance to get into the Annie`s washroom. Annie (Not so sure…but I think she works for Frontline Magazine) was hosting the Caferati session at her house.

As soon as I entered the washroom, I attained nirvana – the kind that only other men can understand. If I were to give an example that a lady would understand: Imagine finding your lost i-Pill the morning after your one-night stand with a humor blogger? How relieved would you be?

Once inside, I surveyed the washroom. It was during one such survey in my earlier boss` house that I came to know of soaps – since then I have used one.

The feeling of being on your own can sometimes make you a very responsible person – so I lifted the lid, relieved myself, put back the lid again, and flushed. It was when I tried to get out of the washroom, that the tragedy struck. I had locked myself in.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen…this favorite blogger of yours had locked himself up inside somebody else`s washroom. Like the brave man that I am, I stepped back – a lesson learnt from my mom (she always said, “whenever you see the flames rising in the gas stove, step back!”) and let out a sigh. How was I going to tackle this, I asked myself.

Luck was stacked against me:

• This was my first time with Caferati and I didn`t know anybody
• Rekha wasn`t carrying a mobile, so I couldn`t alert her
• My daughter was too young so she also didn`t have a mobile

Like I have said many times before us Rajans are built to survive and keeping this in mind, I gently knocked the door. Since everybody was at the reading (writers, don`t just write…you know?) they didn`t hear me.

I repeated myself:

Knock Knock

Knock Knock

Knock Knock

Knock Knock

When there was no response. I called out….

Anybody there?

Anybody there?

Anybody there?

Anybody there?

You should thank God that it wasn`t you…for I was able maintain my cool in the buried-like-a-miner scenario only because I happen to be one of the Rajans. Being one of the Rajans comes with a big responsibility…we are forced to keep ourselves alive for the World. So I shouted:

“Somebody please save me…looks like I am going to die!”

I don`t now what happened after that. When I got up after two hours – with a Samosa stuffed in my mouth and a smiley drawn on my face with Close Up toothpaste – I was told I had fainted inside the washroom. I don`t believe them…for I remember shouting instructions at the people gathered …on how to open the door from outside…

Alternative headline for this article, which I didn`t use: Jammy dazzles at Caferati Meet on Sunday

19 thoughts on “Getting locked inside somebody’s washroom

  1. I was expecting dis blogpost. I still remember the sigh of relief on ur face after u were rescued 😉

    PS. Did it remind u of some James Bond flick at any time?

    1. Ashu…thanks to you I visited caferati…and thanks to you I got caught inside a washroom! And why wud a washroom remind me of a James Bond flick…unless it is BilL Gates washroom…which I heard has a 70 seater theatre inside!

      1. well you reply to comments also
        n i think u r born to be writer
        i had till date never noticed about ak concept
        fabulous
        keep it up dude

  2. Being one of the Rajans comes with a big responsibility…we are forced to keep ourselves alive for the World. .. wah wah .. !! 🙂 thats brilliant

    survey in boss washroom (what for?) came to know about soaps……. simply superb raj… you make our day

    1. Thanks man…brilliant stuff is what we Rajans are trained to come up with. And i am serious about soaps…till I visited this bosses’ house…I thought all should bath with water and coconut husk…

    1. Bobby…So what if I was caught in a washroom. The worse ordeal is getting caught in a lift with the opposite sex. When you step out after the electrician manages to open the lift after 2 hours…the electrician is thinking: ‘Did they do it…or they didn’t?”

  3. Admirable poise, I mean post, as usual.
    One small error: Natural Selection was Lamarck, not Darwin, but who effing cares, right?!
    It seems like all you needed to make your adventure world headlines was to be propositioned by an American Senator with homosexual tendencies, and strong heterosexual politics.
    🙂

  4. OK – you get more read-time at the next meet – for making me laugh on a sick (read ‘ill’) Saturday. You’re funnier than you look.

    1. Sure Anita…would be glad to do that. but then…humor from serious guys is least ‘unexpected’ and thus most welcome. Again, hopefully.

      And why are you sick? I thought people only called me ‘Sick’.

  5. aah.. so we have indeed met earlier. I was there at the Caferati meet and was constantly reminded of the horrendous consequences of going to the loo at Annie’s place. Didnt know that you were the victim here 🙂

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