It always come back to bite you in the ass.

I reckon every now and then, the universe likes to use me as its entertainment monkey.

Case No. 1

We're in the 10th grade, and its geography period. The teacher walks in. I forget her name now, but she was tall, had short hair, wore horned rimmed glasses and thought she was the bee's knees...the cat's pyajamas..u get the idea. She also liked to flash her wedding ring, with a huge mother of a diamond in it. I couldn't stand her.

"Well class, I have your geography test results. All of you did fairly O.K, except for one glorious person who managed to get.. 1 upon 40."

The entire class gasps. I turn around to Arpeeta and say "Haha! Wonder who the dumbass is. That's so hilarious! Who could be THAT dumb?! Must be freaky-girl-who-dances-around-in-polka-dotted-bra."

One by one, the teacher calls out individuals to collect their paper, most of them folding their paper in half, coz HEAVEN FORBID someone might sneak a peek.

My 'haha-you're-a-shmuck-and-I'm-not' mood slowly descends into mild panic when 39 students have been called up to collect their paper...me. being. NOT. one of them.

"Mahima."
39 gasp.
1 jauntily walks up to the teacher.

"Congratulations."
"What?!Me??" I give a happy grin. Hey, any publicity is good publicity (or something like that)
"Yes."
"Ohh boy heh heh heh..um..we don't need parent's signature for this...right?" I continue to grin annoyingly, despite my truly dismal marks.

Teacher just looks at me, as if she'd like nothing more than to hit me over the head with her Geography Teacher's Guide book.



Case No.2

Mink and I are one of the first few people at the luggage belt at the Melbourne airport.

"Mahiiiii I think I see B. Can I pleeeease go out and see him." She bobs up and down like a spring on caffeine.
I look at her like I want to clobber her for even ASSUMING that I'd want to lug two 25kg bags off the luggage belt, onto the trolley, all by myself.

"No you can't you cow!"

One of the first few bags to come out is a blue Polo one (the trolley type).
"Mahi, Mahi! Is that yours??"
"No..mine doesn't have those straps at the back."

The blue bag makes about 80 rounds. I think I grow a grey hair. Crickets start making that noise they make. Governments rise and fall. People come and go. Minakshi and I are still waiting...for my bag. She got hers almost immediately.

"Are you sure that's not yours...I'm going to check the tag."
I'm quietly panicking, thinking of all the clothes I'll never get to wear..thinking of law firms that can successfully sue the pants off these airlines for losing my bag...thinking of the shampoo I'll never use..the hot shoes I'll never wear.....thinking...

"Mahi!!! You IDIOT. The tag says 'MAHIMA R, SINGAPORE' "

The remaining people and staff at the luggage belt look at us lugging the bag that made about a 100 rounds, and you can almost hear them thinking 'Well, why didn't they pick it up earlier?'


I could have SWORN those straps weren't there when I left Singapore.