At Wit's End

           I did it. I finally did it. But it came at a cost. Sixteen of them.
           It all began, when I erroneously chose to organise a movie expedition. I am as responsible as Chuck Norris, when it comes to managing or leading stuff. I bungle like hell. This was no exception.
           I had been waiting for a whole year. The enthusiasm that I had built within myself, was enough to sink a heavily loaded barge and I was not alone. Fortunately or unfortunately, there were other mortal creatures who surprisingly, shared my emotional incapabilties. And so, one stupid Thursday evening saw me booking sixteen tickets for the Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. There began the confusion.
           Due to apparent plenitude of contact gaps, I had to resort to the Ceasar-age style of conveying funeral dates: Word of mouth. This turned out to be the most abysmal and inefficient method of communication, ever discovered by man, after the Indian Postal Service, of course. Quite a few of them, movie buffs, were left out and were very, very disappointed. One in particular, had the gall to call me rude. If not for the fact, that my muscles were not what they never used to be, I would have shown a thing or two. But never mind, all these are sub-plots and we need not necesarily give them more attention, than what they deserve.
           And so, inspite of the fact that I had gotten a couple of extra tickets, all of of them were taken up the second I came back from the theatre and they wanted more. The Dietician was beside himself with rage. All that I could do was shrug, and give them the theatre phone number. Now comes the entry of our hero, the List.
           The List was something which I had made up, of the guys coming to the movie, not giving my incompetent memory a chance to redeem itself. And I conveniently misplaced it, as happens with any list. So I made up a new one that had three types incorporated,

(i) Guys who were coming to the movie.
(ii) Guys who were coming to the movie but had booked tickets separately.
(iii) Guys who were not coming to the movie but wanted to come.

           The List was royally messed. It now contained twenty three entries for 16 tickets. All the three types had gotten themselves overlapped and mixed. I ran around the whole day, intimating people, giving them tickets, cancelling a few who did not want to come, exchanging the tickets, checking and double-checking, deciding on the time of the rendezvous, flirting with old women, scratching my beard and napping in class. I also had to submit a bloody assignment the next day, which I completed in a slip-shod manner. Above all this, there was a plan to drop in at Mocha, before the movie started. I was getting totally muddled and my list, even more. It looked like my Math paper. All scribbles and no sense.
           It continued, till the second the movie started. One dolt was missing. We finally located him with his phone stuck to his right cheek, grinning from ear to ear, both of which I promptly boxed and subsequently pulled.
           Inside the theatre hall, I was literally made to take attendance, much to the amusement of the audience sitting, right before the movie started. Thanks to DFock, everybody were in place and accounted for. The movie began. I had done it. I did a victory dance and settled down comfortably to watch the movie in peace.
           Half an hour into the movie, my eyelids got themselves attached to a pair of lead-balls and they fell.
           Half an hour more and His Highness' mouth mimicked a tunnel opening.
           Ten minutes later, I was waltzing in dream land.

I saw forty percent of the movie with my eyes wide shut and trashed it. If ever anything could go worse, I woke up just in time to puke at Keira Knightley's thighs being enlarged on the screen.


PS: Later, I saw the movie on the computer and I loved it. Johnny Depp, man, you do the rocks!! Going again this week to watch it...;)

Check out the pics here:

Mocha.zip

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