The Seduction

As told by - The Dining Table

“ Most of the young of today are unaware of the sentiment ‘fatal attraction to a fat arm’ being acutely partial to ‘thin is in’ fad. But let me tell you of those good old days when small boys were too busy being small boys that present concept of fashion was alien to them. They survived by their instincts blissfully unaware of prevailing definitions of beauty and desire. They had far wider mental territories encompassing fat, fit or thin equally without differentiation, as long as it meant fun. Now that we understand the mental territories, let us investigate the chain of events that lead Purja succumb to the charms of a fat arm.”

Every one nodded. This promised to be really good so the newer members moved a little closer to the table. “Gate crashing mom’s kitty party even before the guests move towards the tea laid out for them is no mean task. It requires courage to wade through all round painted nails addicted to cheek pinching and cootchie-cooing to reach the table laden with all the exotic eatables one only dreams about. The company around the table is somewhat offensive but has to be ignored. One must just concentrate on filling one’s plate to its maximum capacity and make a quick exit. Our wise Purja, at the said time about six years old, did just that. His small frame was perfect for maneuvering through fashionably clad perfumed bodies. I could see him zigzagging through legs with a concentrated dexterity only a focused and hungry young boy can achieve. All was well till destiny, the great meddler, played a very cruel trick, and wasn’t even ashamed of it.”

“Why? What happened? Poor chap was just indulging a bit.” Asked the VCD, clearly a champion for ‘Cause Purja’. “I am coming to that. Have patience. Well, on his third trip back from the dining table, meaning yours truly, having eaten a substantial amount earlier with a heavy plate full of custard- jelly and cake in his hands, he spotted a vacant seat nearby. To avoid a laborious journey back to a quite corner in his room on an almost bursting stomach, he occupied the chair quickly. Also, he was past caring the ‘do not pig out’ order his mother had passed. He had pigged already and this was just a cherry on the cake. He could afford to be reckless now. As he sat enjoying spoonfuls of his favorite fruit jelly dipped in vanilla custard with chunks of walnut cake, a fat lady, a certain Mrs. Khanna, in a sleeveless blouse came and sat next to him. Our flawless Purja, busy enjoying a treat of his gastronomic life was suddenly thrown into fascinated confusion by the jelly like movements of a fat upper arm busy feeding Khanna aunty. Curiosity won hands down. It was fatal attraction and the scientific temperament to investigate everything that made him inch closer. Just a small sharp bite on the jelly look alike upper arm was enough to start a pandemonium of sorts. You see these small bites employed by locking front teeth on a small section of loose skin are of especially nasty nature. There was an equal and opposite reaction, as a piercing shriek of ‘waking up even the deaf dead’ variety ensued from owner of the flirting upper arm. In the resultant stampede, the little biter crawled under me, not a clever place to hide most decidedly but he was hard pressed for planned thought.”

The DVD - VCD duo were impressed. They had only seen robotic children sitting in front of them doing nothing except watching them. This was real, live wire action beating all contrived special effect stuff they witnessed in their life. They kept mouthing ‘Wow’ repeatedly as a stuck music album. The table waited for laughter to subside before continuing. “He sure was taken to task, but nothing could wipe a rather satisfied foolish smile off his face as he was dragged out from under my protection. He had experienced the mother of all bites. Mrs. Khanna’s upper arm bore testimony to this fact. Her upper arm had jelly and custard coated “Purja tooth marks’. But very soon the smile vanished as his father pronounced a ‘no jelly- custard’ sentence of six months. He, absolutely, preferred his jelly- custard to an interesting but tasteless fat arm. Wasn’t that so Corner? Do you remember angry eyes and flared nostrils?” “Oh sure. In his opinion a small incidence of a harmless bite, was blown way out of proportion He vowed never to touch the ‘ultra sensitive to tiny bites’ spoil- sport friends of his mother, for as long as he lived. And I know for sure; Mrs. Khanna never again wore a sleeveless blouse to any of the Purja infested parties.” Remembered a rather amused Corner.

There was a pregnant silence before a deafening applause broke out. Few young members hooted their appreciation. Excited comments could be heard from all sides.

“ Did he give up biting?” Asked a buttoned up remote. “No. In fact he just changed his strategy, a bit.” Wheezed an old fan that had developed a bad case of wheezing with coughing due to excessive laughter. After a glass of oil it asked, “ If allowed, I would like to relate another biting incidence. I know it is not my turn yet but my story would be better appreciated now than later.”

The walking stick nodded in approval. The old fan started rotating.