Friday, 17 February 2012


It's pretty amazing how some people can turn others' fights into their own. If I remember correctly - albeit vaguely - from Psychology class back in college - there is a term for this. Anyway.

I was at the passport office, having to wait in line for my turn at the counter, when there was a commotion at the doorway. Guy In Green muscled his way in, not-so-gently elbowing the security guy at the entrance, and shouted about having to make a complaint. When ushered in to meet with the official manning the grievance cell, his (the guy's) voice got louder, the argument uglier - and generally caused a commotion big enough to constitute a war in a small nation. To make it worse, Guy In Green was ably (a matter of perspective) supported by his better half, Lady With The Shrill Voice. Aargh. To cut a long story short, the fault lay with Guy In Green and Lady With The Shrill Voice. However, verbal abuses rent the air as they accused the passport officials of insensitivity (ha!), rude behaviour (double ha!) and of having committed an error (ha again!) which in fact, was their own. They were eventually escorted out by cops, but not before having made a very ugly scene in an otherwise calm office on an even calmer morning.

Just as they left, Auntie Dripping Diamonds (waiting in a queue from where she had an unobstructed view of the grievance cell), dialled a number on her cell phone (when a signboard very close to where she was seated clearly banned the use of said instrument) and started to rant and rave about what had just transpired in the office seconds earlier, presumably to her better half. I mean, who else would tolerate such a vile tirade? She had a field day as she invoked the entire pantheon of Indian Gods and Goddesses, the political system, government officials... you get the drift. Inaccurate, of course, and definitely unjustified.

All. For. A. Fight. That. Wasn't. Even. Hers.

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