Its not much of a deal when you try to tell it now. But I am beginning to wonder if there is something in what Mom says about my having to keep my bodam in check.
This library in Trivandrum, has this weird system of keeping your bags in a counter outside and then an even weirder system of bringing this little square piece they call a token for the shelf space. Being an obedient rule-follower I keep my bag and what do they do in return? They give me one of these little tokens! The nerve! My memory must have understood this information should not be stored at all! There were far more important things than little tokens to be stored in my memory. So wasp – that’s not a bee sting – that’s my memory throwing out the token from mind. So I get in, losing 1 minute of my life forever to blankness.
All book taking later I go out and ask for my bag and there comes that word again. Token. Eh what token? Which token? Oh token. Was I given one. Both security chettanmar (Malayalam for big brothers) are in the process of grring now. Of course we gave you token, we give everyone token, that’s our duty. Giving token is our aim in life. It is the only way to salvation.
Err I have no token.
No token??? Eyes bulge out. Those are two words unheard of till date. No token! How can anyone lose a token … this was crossing all limits.
Victims of betrayal, they said in a hurt voice, find it please or you get a fine. But please find that token…
I was beginning to understand this was a rare piece of token, a priced possession.
The hunt began. Security chettan 1 ran to the magazine section. Security chettan 2 was biting nails and jumping around. I am sure he had some object. I ran straight to the books. There was a lot of running around and a lot of questioning. Did you or did you not see a beautiful little square piece hanging around here? No?
Finally one guy at a counter – bless him a few thousand times – said those magic words. Is it a token you are looking for? The return section – and you always thought it was the boring part. Yes yes we are, all three of us echoed together. The jumping chettan jumped to the counter saw the token and held it in hands – I am sure he recited some silent prayers of thanks. Their lives were complete. There was a meaning in life once again. But the next step this chettan jumped at me “I will kill you!”
I too jumped. Behind my friend and peeped out. Whew he didn’t have a weapon.
Jumper chettan after finally returning my bag said that it was time my father and mother were notified, this girl was thinking and dreaming of something else all the time.
All I have to say is tokens are bad mean worthless things. They should not exist! They should be banned from the face of earth!