Right in the middle: Expecting the unexpected

Call it bizarre occurrences or quirky coincidences or queer happenings or preordained destiny or even freaky Murphy’s law, these are life’s paradoxes, making you plunge in a pool of profound perplexity. Recently, tramping on a tarmacked road, I was gauging a spot slightly ahead, where I was to cross the road. I was pretty glad to notice that no vehicles were plying vehicles at that particular time.

But as I approached the spot to cross, lo! It got packed chock-a-block with vehicles charging ahead in full pelt, just like goring bulls in bull-fighting arena. After frenetic waiting for eons, I decided to cross the road whatsoever; the vehicles whizzing past notwithstanding.

So, with all spunk, stretching my left arm and flapping like a single-winged bird, I signalled speeding vehicles to stop for few seconds, as I sprinted towards the side-walk on the opposite side. I gloated in great joy at my feat, which was nothing short of a tour-de-force! But the paradox was that within moments of all that meticulous manoeuvring and manipulated moves by me to cross the road, the massive vehicular traffic had mysteriously melted away!

Another typical paradox is when after seeing the power-cut announcement that day, you try pegging away at all power-related chores at home. Once accomplished, you throw a smile at yourself in the mirror, as if having trounced an opponent in a terrific boxing-game. But the smile doesn’t linger long, since you have unremitting power-supply the entire day! And just when you are piteously grappling with plenty of piled-up household chores, the power supply unpredictably goes pop!

It is exactly like seeing the scudding rain-bearing clouds in the sky and carrying your sleek umbrella to shield your noddle against the showers. Well, not a raindrop you would witness. But precisely the day you aren’t carrying an umbrella, you have pelting and pounding rains, pathetically soaking your head and making you look like a badly plucked chicken.

I still recollect the day I had called on an acquaintance when my son was a few summers old. As I saw my host, offering some Marie biscuits to my son, I brazenly told her that my little brat wouldn’t, with a barge-pole, touch those bland variety of biscuits. I even pointed out that the little fella feels the biscuits are too plebeian for his palate. Imagine my great mortification, when I saw my son going gaga over those biscuits, gobbling up every piece with gusto, leaving me grinning stupidly. That was the day I realised that indeed in life, we are often expected to expect the unexpected.