Pintu Returns (And Still Hates You)

I am back. It was time to take a little time away, clear my head.
In my last post, I wrote about perhaps experiencing a rare calming moment. Then a bird shat on my face.

If you've missed me, good for you.
What's that, I hear you ask: have you missed me, Pintu?

If you're slowly roasting in a burning hell for two weeks, do you tend to think about peanuts?

By now, you're well acquainted with antics at the office. Now my co-workers are chirpier and more determined to succeed while simultaneously annoying the living shit out of me. It's like walking into a circus for over-achieving orangutans every morning. Nothing's changed. I drink my tea, smoke my cigarettes. Bang my head on the desk.

The days are taking their toll.

I open my eyes every morning but all I see is fog. Constant thick fog, like some thick soup, if soup were a fog. There's no sunshine. When I walk, it's like those cartoons where a single black cloud hovers over one person's head. It's only raining on me. Because Jamal Bhai and co. are certainly basking in the sunlight of stupidvideos.com. I just hope some raindrops from the cloud on my head spills over onto his computer and short-circuits it, so that I could get some peace.

Spring is here. I light a cigarette and watch the world hurtle mindlessly forward.

A small child cries, and I think: good, better you learn how it is now.

A rickshaw gets rammed in the the back by another rickshaw. The passenger flies off, falls on the ground and gets up angry and covered in dirt. There is yelling. I smile.

A mosquito wildly miscalculates and flies straight into my clap of death. The resulting mess in my hands is bloody, but satisfying.

Everyday brings new challenges. Almost always they are...WORST.

Further Proof of Crapness of Life

By some amazing coincidence, I got to enjoy a bit of sunshine yesterday. I managed to get out of work early.

The weather was pleasant. I felt calm.

Hang on, I hear you say. This is unsuitable material for this blog.

Oh, but wait.
As I looked up at some tree, a giant fat crow took a huge dump on my face.

Chickens

It's only inevitable that a Dhaka-based blog called "Worst" will eventually mention Dhaka traffic.

I commute. It's like being kicked in the head with steel sandals. In the morning the lines are longer than the waiting lists for BTNT phone numbers in the 90s. Crammed in with a random elbow in the face, hardly moving while breathing in special fragrances that smell like the lovechild of a sewer and a coal factory.

Inevitably someone accidentally steps on someone and that someone takes offense and starts yelling SHALA DEKHTE PAROS NA? But what are you going to do when it's so crowded. Once a guy apologized to someone on a seat for daring to be thrown back by the driver braking hard. The response was "SORRY BOLE KI HOBE? JA HOBAR HOISE." Then of course some know-it-all Modon Kumar will join in as judge and jury, engaging everyone in a bus-wide debate about the merits and demerits of

And you'd think with the bus engine and the honking outside people would have a hard time being heard. But oh they manage to yell just fine. To me it always sounds like chickens. It's all just :

(exchange between two people)

-- POKPOKPOKPOK POKAWWWWWKKK POKPOKPOKPOKPOK
-- pok. pokk paaaaaaaaaaaaawwwk.
-- POKAAAAWK!!! POK POK POK PAAAAAWK.
-- POK!?!?!?! POK POK POK POKPOKPOK!!!! POK PAAAAAAAWK!!!




(random guy joins in as "voice of reason"/"showoff wise-man"/"nosy dude")

-- Pok. Pok pok pokpokpok. Pok Pok.




(first guy takes offense)
-- PAWWWWWWWWK! PAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA!!!

(nosy dude also gets incensed)
-- POKPOKPAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWKKKKKKK!!

All out battle.




And then its POK POK POK POK POK POK POK all over the bus.



It's around this time I realize it's only been ten minutes. Traffic's barely moving and there's about an hour and a half to go.