Impulsive Expressions

It was swelteringly hot and five more people stood in front of us in the line at the Vigyan Nagar Post Office. The line was static. Why? The man at the counter said whatever may be the case they won't take letters or parcel during his lunch hours even if he just sat and chat with his colleagues.

Just then three ladies entered the scene.

"Oh My God! What a long line ! ," said Lady A.
"Don't Worry," said Lady B. "There must be a separate line for women. Since there is none now , we will make one."

Saying this she had started a line for women. There was a protest from a person ( obviously bearing a different set of chromosomes) but that was snubbed down easily by the threesome.Other ladies also followed suit as in a game of hearts. My friend Rudra and me were left flabbergasted.

"It is such a waste of time for students when they have to come by themselves to post their forms. I wish the Institute would do something for these students. It would save a lot of time and..." Lady C did not seem to think it proper to keep her conversation private or short.

Suddenly an idea clicked. I went up to Lady B ( the most vulnerable looking) and said ,"Aunty , Can you post the form for me when you are posting yours. A lot of time would be saved. Please Aunty," in my most flattering voice.

"Son, it would be injustice on others standing here if I did this for you. It would be wrong and you are..."

I cut her short. "Thanks a lot, Aunty, anyways" with a lot of stress on the word Aunty.Hypocrites. She had a chance to save my time but no... justice, truth and what not to cover up.

Five minutes later when the counter opened there was some confusion there. Lady B came out of line, in her hand she held half a twenty-rupee note. I say half cause it had so dexterously torn into two halves(one of which she held) that it seemed that it was a note that was folded in half.

See you can't tell whether its folded in half or cut into two halves till you feel which our lady here was too preoccupied to
notice.







"That potato-vendor. I will kill him today. Look at the rascal...., " said Lady B although she was using language that forbade the use of the title.

Serves her right for being so obsessed with justice.

"Thank God, it was not a hundred rupee note," said Lady A as the trio left the post-office.

Now just look at the economics involved. The potato vendor if he got away with the other half he gets away with a total of twenty plus twenty forty rupees. So a profit of twenty rupees if that note was his and a profit of forty rupees if he had found it and also the idea of not discarding it.