A pair of huge scissors. That's what I wanted to carry to work today. As usual I forgot. Damn.
For the past two weeks I have been getting bombed by water balloons. It's been happening in a particular alley that leads to my home and which I cannot avoid out of the necessity of reaching home. Some kids have been having the time of their lives. And I have been telling myself everyday that the next time it happens I am going to ring the bell of that particular house and threaten them. Somehow I never seem to have the time to catch up with them.
Yesterday evening I was about 3 yards from home when these gang of young guys on bikes passed by and hit me real hard with balloons. I was on the phone and couldn't do a thing except shout fuckers. And pray really hard that their balls off.
Why can't people let others be? So I have had my share of enjoying Holi and I so do not want to play around. Is that too much to ask? It's like a menace which is out of my hands.
Hence the scissors. I have made up my mind. Whoever happens to throw colours on me, risks getting his locks chopped off. That's a deal.
On second thoughts, maybe I will carry the small scissors lying in my office drawer on the way back.