Running errands- techniques to never run another!

Let’s face it. No one wants to run errands. However, you are coerced into this activity, with no wiggle-room whatsoever. Here are some time-tested techniques. If you follow them to the letter, rest assured, you will never have to run another errand.

The first technique is simple.  You wear down the errand-assigner by asking questions and more questions. Let’s say, as a kid, mother asks you to buy 500 gm of sugar. You start a questioning trail as follows- “Which shop should I go to? What if “Kani stores” is closed? What if “Chhada stores” is also closed? What if the shop has run out of sugar? What if he has run out of powdered sugar, but carries sugar-crystals, should I buy the crystal-sugar? What if I forget "500 gm" and say "500 kg" instead? What if he has no sugar, can I buy salt? What if it costs more money than the amount I am carrying? Ok. I will buy 250 gm instead of 500 gm. How much will 250 gm be? This big? What if the shopkeeper has run out of change to give back? What alternate knick-knacks should I buy for the extra change? What if I drop the money…accidentally…before going to the shop? What if I buy the sugar…but there’s a hole in the packet, so much so, by the time, I get home…it’s all gone?” The errand-assigner will eventually relieve you from the onerous task with the following closing remarks, “Instead of answering all your questions, I would rather do it myself! It will be much faster!” That said, you can still go to school, and in the “good deeds done for the week” section, write out a sentence in all seriousness, “Helped elders at home to run errands!”

The second method is to commit mistakes.  The blunder must be of such gigantic proportions that the errand-assigner should never assign you the next task! Most errand assigners will start with one item. It will be something simplistic, “Can you buy some bread?” Obviously, there is no need to write down “buy bread” on a piece of paper. That is plain silly and a waste of paper (and yes, trees also).  By the time you get ready to run the errand, one more item will be added to the list. While you wear your chappals, two more items will be added. And, as you step out of the door, the total number of items will swell to 9. Since you never started out writing the items on paper, the 9 items will all be in your head. By the time you reach the shop, 7 out of 9 would have evaporated! Yes, evaporated into thin air! You recall “bread” and “rice flour” and no more! It’s like the sudden amnesia Karna suffered on the battlefield. What can you do now ? (Remember, there was no cellphone back then). You buy the bread and rice-flour and return!

The next time, the errand-assigner will take no chances. She will hand over to you...a piece of paper with all the items...written down. You make no mistakes this time. When you get back, “What happened to the rest of the items?” Your response- “There are no other items. This is all you wrote out!” “Didn’t you turn the page and look on the other side?” That’s when it hits you! “But…but…you didn’t write PTO at the end of the page! How should I know...the back of the paper also carries items?” The damage is irreparable. You are now stuck with mustard…an entire packet…but not the “rava” to make upma with!

Sometimes, it is a problem of plenty. The errand-list carries a simplistic item- “rice”. When you reach the shop, there is “premium rice”, "raw rice", “idli rice”, “par-boiled rice”, “HB rice”, “basmati rice” and “ponni rice”! There is no hope in hell you can get it right. Whatever you buy, you will be in trouble. You come home huffing and puffing carrying 10 kgs of rice! “Idli rice? Idli rice? Why did you buy 10 kg of idli rice?” When it comes to “dals”, there is eternal confusion. You were asked to buy “tur dal”, but after a lot of deliberation, you carefully picked the packet of “chana dal”! I tell you…the two fellows are identical twins- totally indistinguishable! Or…you were asked to buy “dishwasher soap” and you bought a gallon of “detergent” instead! Logic does not work here. “Sab saabun hi hai naa? It’s all soap only…right? What is the big deal?”- this argument will not work, my dear!

In some cases, you feel you have successfully run the errand. You buy potatoes and cabbage...and return. “Why did you buy potatoes and cabbage? This is what I explicitly asked you…NOT to buy! We just ate potato and cabbage this week!” This is a familiar trap that every errand-runner faces. The problem is with the errand-assigner. Never use negative logic, technically called "neti-neti" logic. “Don’t buy this!” just does not work! It must always be a clear, positive, firm, affirmation…in the imperative mood- “Buy this, buy that!"

I don’t run errands anymore. You can see why!

 

On zips!

Sometimes, you come across the complicated expression- “wardrobe malfunctioning”. Simply put, this expression means some “unintentional lapse” in the dress you are wearing; may be, a button suddenly falls off from the shirt- situations like that!

Among the various causes for “wardrobe malfunctioning”, zips must be listed right at the top. I bought a new sweater about a month ago. It has a zip that runs through its length. I had zipped it till the neck. Much later in the day, I observed that the zip had given way. While the top part of the sweater close to the neck stayed zipped and the lower portion was also intact, it had given way around the belly!

Zips are such unpredictable chaps! At the most opportune moment, they may decide to abandon the call of duty (what you would call “makkar” in Tamil) and take a stroll in the park! And mind you, you have pinned all your faith on them….to guard some of the most sensitive and delicate areas of your clothing.

“Zip” should be an “onomatopoeia” figure of speech in English. I should ask my English teacher. After all, if a zip made a sound when it worked, it would sound like “zip”.  “Agility” and “ease” are embedded in the very word “zip”. We use expressions like “zipping around the city” and “zipline”.  All this is relevant when zips are working in an ideal world.

Quickly, I unzipped and zipped my sweater again. This time round, it was fine. But with zips, much like a sensitive tooth that has just flared up, one occurrence of the problem is enough. You know the issue is festering. It is just a matter of time- the problem will show up again.

These days, zips are everywhere, including backpacks and suitcases. Imagine- you are at the airport. You are already late and have somehow managed to reach the counter. You open the suitcase one last time and are about to place it on the conveyer belt. The zip refuses to close its teeth. The insides of the bulging suitcase spill out, while you watch helplessly, unable to react. What do you do now? There is no escape route.

How you miss those yesteryear robust, steel trunks, fitted with those muscular “navtal” locks! Those trunks were built like bulls, not like these delicate-darling zipped-suitcases.

Sometimes, suitcases have 2 zips that run through the same set of teeth. You can zip the suitcase from either end, so that the 2 zips can meet at the center. Or you can use one zip all the way too. You now have “double protection” and “redundancy”- an idea that can be extended to other zip use-cases.

Zips have many loose parts. In a hurry, if you do not align the prongs to the end of the zip, you will zip it the wrong way. The zip-teeth are now broken…irreparably. Sometimes, the zip handle, by which you hold the zip, is fragile and falls off. From then on, zipping is like a watch-repairer’s job. It is too intricate and delicate a job for your fingers- you must carefully hold the remainder of the zip-handle-stub and push it around each time. Zips also function on the “boolean principle”- either they work fully well, or not at all, there is no “middle-ground”, which is a big nuisance. At least with buttons, when one button falls off, you still have other buttons to save the day.

 “Jip badalna padega!” the tailor tells you when you take your pant to him. “What must be replaced?” you ask him again. “Jip! Jip!” he repeats. Who cares if you call it a “jip” or “zip”! A “jip” by any other name, should zip just as fine. That’s all you want for your pant.

Yes, sometimes, a zip-replacement surgery is the only way to solve the problem. “Can you fit buttons along with the zip...for the pant? Lagaa sakte hain aap…button bhi…zip ke saath-saath? Aur bhaisaab….do-zip chahiye! I need 2 zips. Upar se ek…neeche se doosra! Suitcase jaisa!” you ask the tailor in all seriousness.

I wonder how the tailor will respond to my zip request…to be safe and sound with my pant…and take no chances whatsoever!

 

Cellotape!

With cellotape, you are always on a sticky wicket! The pun is intended! The occasions are many- you need to wrap a wedding-gift or need to cover the notebook for your ward.

You get the cellotape out of the drawer. Yes, cellotape does come with its “dispenser”, but somehow, that avatar has gone missing from the drawer. All that comes to hand is the basic ring-version, with no dispenser.

They talk about the Lord having “no beginning and no end”- “na adi…na anta”. The cello-tape-ring mirrors the Lord- he just does not have any beginning! You run your finger over the ring. You cannot catch the start of the trail. You dig your nail to spot that elusive perforation. There’s none! It seems like a monolith apparatus, smooth as a river-stone. Irritation wells up, “Why cannot someone keep the cellotape *along* with its dispenser, I say?”

Just when you are on the verge of flinging the cellotape, lock, stock and barrel… out of the window, the finger stumbles upon the first ray of hope- the beginning of the ribbon! Excitedly, you peel off the ribbon. Hurry makes a hash of most things, more so, when you are unraveling cellotape. You expect the ribbon to flow out nice and full, but it doesn’t. It tears off at an angle, a total no-no. You know what happens next. You have no choice but to peel off more…with the hope that somehow, it will straighten itself out.

It doesn’t! On the contrary, it’s like peeling an onion. By now, you have pulled out miles and miles of cellotape- all twisted and crumpled, and completely unusable! In the process, your fist is sticky and gooey, and like the proverbial silkworm, you are about to get cello-tape cocooned!

At this point, you give up. You need help. You need to delegate the job. You need an attendant.

There is an unwritten law-the moment you delegate a job, you forget its complexity. The delegator assumes absolute command- “his lordship” orders his attendant about. Let it be amply clear- there is no job as unforgiving as being a “cellotape attendant”. Whatever he may do, he will be faulted, pilloried, and crucified.

“Why did you lose the beginning of the ribbon again? I gave it to you just now…didn’t I? This is too much!” his lordship fumes! If the attendant hands over a big piece of cellotape, his lordship wants a smaller one. If it’s a small piece, he complains it is too small and unusable. “Don’t give me the cellotape by holding the sticky side with your finger. By the time you transfer it to me, it loses all its glue! How will it ever stick?”

Cutting a cellotape precisely is no mean task. If you use a pair of scissors, there are too many things to handle. Two hands just cannot accomplish the job. The scissor is held in the right hand, the cellotape is clasped in the left. What happens to the piece that you have just cut out? Something must give way, and it does. The cut-out piece sticks to your finger, which is good. But in the melee, the cellotape ring rolls off to the ground. The beginning of the trail is erased…and you must start all over again! It is like Bhageeratha, you need infinite patience to get this Ganga to the earth!

You take a firm decision- “No more scissors and the associated tangle. I will use my bare hands, much like Bheema…to snap off the piece!”  For a few tries, this method works fine. The exultation is premature. The next piece just does not snap. On the contrary, it leads you astray, and now, you have inadvertently pulled out many more miles of tape…and still cannot get it to snap!

The cellotape has now reached lands-end! Yes, it’s over…all over!  Only the skeletal shell remains, round and smooth, as you run your finger over it.

“Where did all the cellotape go? Did you eat it? We still have half the gift to be wrapped! What will we do now?” his lordship is evidently…very livid and very angry!