Clank! There goes another utensil. Guess you can call it divine intervention that every time I step into the kitchen, the utensils start falling on their own from everywhere. As if the auto clumsy button gets activated as soon as I am near something that is ‘fallable’ (I know that’s not a legit word, so what, the dictionary needs new words once in a while). Actually, I am one of those people because of whom the stores put up placards saying, “Considered sold if broken!”
In fact, just a while ago I tripped on the doormat of my room. And if not the doormat, it would have been the door stopper, the side table, the book rack, the dressing table, you got the picture. I can even stumble on a perfectly leveled floor!
My pinky fingers are so prone to getting hurt that now I hardly well-up when I dash them against anything that I had so conveniently ignored to see, despite seeing. Once, I attempted a magical feat by trying to walk through a glass door. Yeah! You read it right. I was getting late for a meeting and hurriedly wanted to get to the car. So despite seeing the glass door and instead of opening it, I just rammed into it, leaving my colleague awestruck for a few moments. He just didn’t know how to react for a few seconds, and now a good friend, he still remains as ‘awed’ as he was at that moment whenever we talk about my ‘Harry Potter’ act.
Which got me thinking that during school the only sports that I played was basketball and that too all alone. After all, nobody wanted to risk getting their bones broken by playing with me!
And then of course I always end up feeding my clothes before I feed myself, spilling coffee and water on my workstation and scattering papers all over. Oh! And, I even once somehow managed to rip the entire switchboard from the wall while unplugging the laptop charger! As I tried to ram it back into the wall, my friend in an alarmed voice said, “Stop it! Leave it! I will do it!” He anticipated that the next move would be me getting electrocuted if I continued with my antics.
However, there are days when I need to behave in a prim and proper manner too, carry myself with dignity. Weddings especially demand saris worn properly, parties demand stilettos and client meetings neatly ironed spic and span shirts. These are the days when I am extra careful and I become a woman with poise. Walking on stilettos is not an easy job, but I keep reminding myself that if I fall, the least I would endure would be a sprain. And, that thought, trust me, keeps me going. Besides, there are perks to it too. Being perfect on such occasions guarantee appreciative comments of aunties, admiring gazes of men and even the jealous stares of women.
But then again, I often think, it’s being clumsy that makes me endearing, isn’t it? :)