My experiments with the PEN
And……….there was this story writing competition in cognizant-”cook it up!”.
The rules were simple…..you were to start with “It was a case of mistaken identity…”….and end with “….Call it fortune or misfortune, destiny it seemed to be!”
This was my creation
“It was a case of mistaken identity, which landed me in a soup or should I say, landed me in an appetizing soup. It all started when I was desperately fishing for a job, to which I could cling on to for at least a year before I could get a truly gratifying profession. An unfortunate friend of mine, who had his sphere of influence enveloping a few industries in Chennai, came to my rescue.
He gave me a business card and instructed me to meet a junior executive of a presumably profitable organization. The Rendezvous was set to take place in “The Tavern”, a restaurant in the outskirts of the city. I have a notorious reputation for being overtly dramatic in expressing myself.
I was hatching a plan to impress the person even before meeting him in person. I went to “The Tavern” ten minutes in Advance and asked the headwaiter whether the concerned person I Was supposed to meet was already in the reserved table. The waiter pointed a table. The plan was ready for execution. The plan was simple and the stage was set. I had staged in a few actors already for this deadly operation. The junior executive was quite relaxed and was having a soup. He did not look old, which was a welcome relief.
Now, coming to the plan-I am to walk straight to the man’s table. Suddenly, A waiter is to spill some soup on a lady (on my payroll). The lady is to get mad at the waiter and position herself to slap him. At that moment, I am to enter the scene and pacify the lady, and at the same time, instruct the waiter not to be hasty. This would create a win-win situation for the two parties and a good impression of my character in the heart of the junior executive.
All went as planned till the moment I entered the scene. I started walking pretty fast with an uninvited enthusiasm. A brat ran across tables, which made me lose my balance and eventually fall on the lady who was positioned to slap the waiter. Both of us together landed on an old man’s lap. Even without bothering to apologize, I called the kid and gave him a good beating. Though the scene was in ruins and my plan totally demolished, it generated a bit of a laugh at the other tables.
The old man got up and called the headwaiter. “ I want this clown thrown out immediately. Look at what he has done to my grand-child!” said the man at the top of his voice. The headwaiter told that I was the guest to the old man’s table. This shattered my residual confidence. I walked towards the exit with my head hung down.
Then it happened. The man whom I mistook for the junior executive came up to me. He was having a stupid grin on his face and was wiping tears off his cheeks. He asked me-“man! You are unbelievably hilarious…I have an opening for the humor-consultant position at my TV station, so will you accept….the….” his words broke off with hysteric laughter! Call it fortune or misfortune, destiny it seemed to be!”
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Unfortunately, there was a word limit! Many unwelcome editors volunteered!
This was the final version!
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“It was a case of mistaken identity.
I was on a job hunt, and had managed an appointment with a Junior Executive of a profitable organization at “The Tavern”.
I hatched a plan to impress the person even before meeting him.
I got a few actors on my payroll.
The plan was simple.
I enter the restaurant, the waiter would spill soup on the lady nearby, lady explodes, I tactfully handle the situation, the executive gets impressed, and I get my job.
I was directed to my host’s table.
All went as planned, till the point where I was to interfere, when a brat ran by and tripped me.
I bumped on to the lady and both of us landed on an old man.
The old man fumed.
He was “the” JE.
I lost that job, but my comic appearance fetched me a humor-consultant job in a private channel from “the supposed host”.
“Call it fortune or misfortune, destiny it seemed to be!”
Though the story was published as one of the best, I was not satisfied!
The writer in me cried like a baby………one man’s creation raped by a whole group of wise guys!
There are times when I really hate Group Work.
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