Dead Man is never sad

Yesterday, my sister called at 8.45 pm to say a man was lying on the platform opposite her house since morning.  I immediately went and checked his pulse - he had been dead for a long time. He may have been in his 50s or 60s and there was a stick and a pair of slippers next to him.

Right away I went to the police station and informed - the police man asked me if it was man or woman.  When I said it was a man he was sort of relieved.  He took my name and number. I was both happy and sad.

I was happy that the police never troubled me and they never called me back. I later understood that they came with a photographer and took away the body in a van.

I was sad that there were so many people around the dead man and no one bothered or do anything about it.  He was lying right opposite a hospital.  Right next to it were vendors selling eatables and people eating right there.  It takes great courage or complete apathy to do something like that - I think it is the latter.

The dead man perhaps died because he was sad - but I felt he was never sad that no one bothered him after he was dead.  That was what I saw in the dead man's face.  Lesson to learn.

I would want to ask him why he had neatly kept his stick and slippers next to him before dying.

Legs are sweating

I have a middle aged, middle income and a middle of the road friend. An ideal employee, an ideal husband and father, he never had big dreams or ambitions and small pleasures of life made him happy.

The family used to live in a rented house. With his kids growing up, his wife wanted a house so that they can call something their own. So he took his first big loan and bought a second hand house. His income immediately reduced by more than a half while the interest rates continued going up. He can see the smile in his wife’s face when guests complement the public park situated right opposite the house.

He used to own an old battered 15 year old car. He was quite happy with it – it took him where he wanted to go – no powered windows, no power steering, no AC and not even a radio. He never spent much on it and never had to worry when it is going to get bashed next.

She started working to manage the ever increasing expenses.

Now the car wasn’t much of a looker to suit the house. He did not care much for these things but then one day he had to give in – he got a new car with all the bells and whistles. All were very happy till one day the wife commented while taking a spin in the shiny new car – “my legs are sweating”. Standards change very fast, you see.

The friend is obsessed with the thought of making his wife happy – to keep his wife’s leg cool. Who cares if he and his wife have to slave for the rest of his life – not him anyway.