Wednesday, November 02, 2011 - India's biggest online food & lifestyle guide">
DISCLAIMER: The following is a fictionalized account of a gory dark day of my life. Sarcasm and Laughter is expected, but beware, you could be the next Lucky one.

Some days, luck just decides to shine bright and sunny on you.

It’s like you woke up on the best side of the bed, with a silver spoon in your smelly mouth, and a proverbial horse shoe hanging down my neck.

So what do you do when such a day decides to grace you with its benign presence?

Just wait for the darned day to get over; praying the damage done is least.

Last week had one such marvelous day when I had the ultimate stroke of luck ever.

So the day started on a bright note. I wasn’t sleepy, woke up on time for my gym appointment. Got ready and out of the house in time. No traffic even at 6:00 AM (the first sign of something about to go wrong, I never saw what was in store) it was the perfect start to a seemingly perfect day.

I reach the gym on time, ably surpassing the strong primal urge to stop over that the idly shop for a plate of hot pongal. Only to find that my trainer is hurt, and hence no workout. Disaster One.

Heartbroken (yeah I do like the gym, contrary to what my figure suggests) I started back home. That was when the sky decided to burst open in a flash rain that oddly seemed to follow and drench only the area around me. Drenched to the last cell in my body, I trudged my way back home.

I choose to gloss over the mishaps while I got ready post that for office and take you to the ride to work now. So off I am on my ride to work, when the rain gods decide to fertilize the earth with some water all over again. Drenched for the second time, and late already by half an hour, I get back home, change, and resume my by now ill-fated journey. Disaster Two.

I reach work, escaping a traffic police confrontation by hair’s breadth. Take my laptop out for security check. The moment I place it before the all-knowing eyes of the bar code reader, it sets of a loud shriek and dies. That’s it. Last heard, they are still negotiating with a new vendor for a replacement. Disaster Three.

Embarrassed beyond redemption, I walk up the stairs (yes the lift had gone off too, I suspect on purpose, fearing its own life) and reach my work desk. Laptop on table, system boots, facebook login, and Bam! The laptop blanks out. Disaster Four.

I chug along running after the IT team and sundry other teams I was supposed to be meeting on the day, and it already is way past lunch time. A quick bite it is, and nothing is left for sale in the canteen (did I forget? My lunch box, which I cooked in the morning, was left behind at home). I set my eyes on the vending machine, little knowing that this would lead to the Disaster of the century,,,

I chose to have a fruit cake and a juice from the vending machine. I put in a ten rupees note. The machine vomits it out.

I put the note in again. The machine gives me a Rs.5 pack of boost and the change.

Undeterred I put another ten rupees note into the machine. This time I choose a pack of biscuits. The vending machine accepts it, and the coil in the corresponding rack moves. Moves. Moves. Moves,,,

Till the biscuit pack hangs in the air, neither in the coil, nor in the collection bin below, but actually in the air.

I take pride in my research and scientific background. Applying it in times of crisis though is not my forte, I realized this day.

The scientist in me decides to put in another note, order the same biscuit, so that two packets together fall down this time. The coil moves, moves, moves,,,, till the second pack too hangs mid air along with the first one.

Frustrated, I try manhandling the vending machine, hoping what science could not achieve, would be accomplished by raw brute force.

After about fifteen minutes of vigorous wrestling with the machine, amidst the piercing gaze of most of the office (there were tickets being sold for the spectacle: Man Vs Machine, the ultimate battle), there is a loud thud, followed by a red liquid flowing down the machine.

Did it die? Did the machine bleed? I let go of it, like I accidentally killed a girlfriend. The thud alarmed the now awake housekeeping service man. On closer inspection, it was revealed, much to my ignominy, that I had dropped in a bottle of strawberry squash and the biscuits were still hanging on the coil. Disaster Complete.

So by the end of the day, I was one laptop less, bereft of lunch, a suspected machinophile in official records, with my photo id and fingerprints being stored in the local criminal records.

So like I said, some days, luck just decides to shine bright and sunny on you. This was one such day.

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