Wet Behind The Ears

I seem to have fallen into the habit of taking my cellphone with me into the loo. I don't know why, but it seems to make me feel a lot better taking a dump with cellphone in hand listening to songs about cameras and f***ing boyfriends and those other things that make the world go around.

(If you think this is unusual, and yes irresponsible behaviour on anybody with a cellphone, then just come by and ask for the guy who never has to go to the toilet during exam time, and also ask for the guy who does email while downloading junk. He can be reached on thatguywhodoeshisemail@thecrapp.er)

I usually put the phone on the counter next to the sink. And proceed with whatever it is that I've come there to do.

The speaker on the back is capable of putting out a loud enough sound to make things audible when one has the shower going in full spray mode, and is nice when you can sing along with a guide. At least it drowns out the parts of the song where you go completely off-key and is a comfort to people like me.

Somehow, I can never seem to get a song that sounds perfectly alright in my head to come out sounding right when singing it. Except for that time when I'm using my falsetto voice. It always seems to sound great when I emulate the female voice. Of course, it may sound a little gruffy but that adds that little bit of sensuality to the mix, and that makes the ladies swoon all that faster. (The ones who are into sexy-vocal-chord equipped ladies, that is. And for once one of my virtues doesn't seem to benefit me, because for those of you who know me, I am the last individual on earth who'd fit that description.)

(Actually, let's go down this path: where did that "last individual on earth..." expression come up. Why WOULD anybody want to be that person! Earth would be the dullest place to be if you were that person. You'd have the #1 blog on Technorati, that nobody would be reading! Your blog would be the only thing people would see when they hit the "I Feel Lucky" (so lucky that you don't exist to make the most of all that luck!) button on Google, but there wouldn't be anybody to do that. And thinking about Google, there'd be nobody to come up with all these cool free services! and nobody to use them. Nobody at college, nobody to say Hello to, who'd you call, you'd have the best sounding call in the network, because there'd be no congestion, but there are only so many times you can blog your conversation with the Nice Fake Lady At The Other End when you dial 121, just thinking about it makes me feel sad. all that goodness, and nobody to share it with! Nobody! Sharing is good, nothing changes that.)

And where were we? Yes, back to the old shower-singing routine. I was crooning some happy folksy tune one day, (pa pa pa/papapapapapapapapapa...) and I get a text message just as I was hitting that high'pa' (yes! I was feelin' hyper too!) note. So, my phone goes ding ding and the Pandora's soapbox for soapy trouble is opened.

I happened to be shampooing at that time. And I was reading the instructions behind the bottle, or something to that effect. (I was pondering on how sad and low on inspiration the people who write the stuff on the back of shampoo bottles had become.

Something like this would be fun to read:
1. Take generous amounts (you can always buy more later)
2. Work into lather with twisty, circly and flippity actions, like you're mucking about in an Ocean Of White Softyness
3. Go nuts putting it on everything you can see before the foamy stuff gets into your eyes
4. The fun is over: it's in your eyes, try waiting for at least 5 minutes, for the Chemical X to work it's magic on your scalp. Meanwhile think of something to explain why you look like you dragged self out of a disco at 3 AM on a Saturday (not applicable in Bangalore) and spent the rest of the night counting the number of pavement slabs till you got home (again, not applicable in Bangalore, except if you're a cop), and then spent the rest of the weekend trying to make sense of these instructions
5. Rinse (eyes if required, most probably) and repeat if required. (yes, let's do this all again!)

This would be something a lot of people could relate to. Making the shampooing experience better, and not just wasting all that space on the back with stuff that people don't need guidance in.)

And where were we? Yes, the song had stopped.

I was in step 2 of the shampooing process. Out of the tub, over to the phone. Must get that song going again. And picking up the phone like I always do. In a warm hand-embrace, encircling it with all my fingers, I realise that in step 2 the hand is "mucking about in an Ocean Of White Softyness".

And yes, the phone wasn't too pleased when it got step 2. Currently, the loudspeaker on the back sounds a little hoarse. And all songs sound like my renditions of them. And now, I can't fake sing in the shower. And I feel very sad about that. But there is hope that someday everything will clear up.

Fake singing days are those days when I open/close mouth rapidly in tune with mental image of song (oxymoron?).
:-0 :-! :-0 :-P :-0 :-@ :-) :-D :-!! :-> :-@ :-) :-D :-!! :-> :-0 :-! :-0 :-P :-D :-!! :-> :-@ :-) :-!! :-> :-0 :-! :-0 :-0 :-! :-0 :-0 :-! :-0 :-P :-0 :-@ :-) :-D :-0 :-@ :-) :-D :-@ :-@ :-@ :-@ :-@ :-@

Pa pa pa pa pa pa pa:
:-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@ :-P :-@

Look right to you?
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