Saturday, January 25, 2014

Memoirs of a 'Shoppingophobiac'

I’ve been to a lot of super markets and malls around the ‘globe’ and no matter where it is, every time I enter one of those dress shops my eyes eagerly starts searching for something and the search more often ends in disappointment .. no it’s not the rest room, you can find that much easily. What I am looking for is rather a resting place, a sofa or a chair or anything on which I can rest my butt with some dignity

It might sound silly to some of you out there, but for the people like me suffering from (or may be gifted with) a condition called ‘Shoppingophobia’ every step taken in the shop floor is nothing short of torture. But who cares about ‘us’,  in this bourgeois capitalistic system customer is the king and they will be given a polished floor and pleasant lighting so that they can walk, stare and finally end up ‘consuming’.. and ‘we’ … we will be sidelined as a some lost souls forced to keep standing and walking like one of those zombies you see in Hollywood movies, trying to find the meaning of our existence in between the jungle of garments

But alas, finally my prayers (?) are heard.. today as I walked in to Lulu at my hometown in my typical melancholy mood resembling one of those poor helpless goats led by the butcher to the cutting stool, I almost left out a yell of joy. There it is….. my key to freedom from the long hours of pain I was getting prepared to. Dressed in Blue, three of them greeted me with a welcome smile. With relief I slowly alighted to the middle one of those chilling steel couches and slowly started to scribble my ecstasy so that at least some of my ailing brothers know it..

Yes, it’s true comrades ... there is still some hope left in this world for us and today when I looked in to the tunnel there was surely a light … a blue, cold light !