Frog Attack

Most people, at least those that I know of, go to the bathroom for inner peace; peace of mind. Okay, for bowel peace.

I have quite a few reasons:

1)      I have a shunt – and thus I tend to pee a lot; it’s a CSF thing (yes Upsi, I plead disability)

2)      To shit

3)      To smoke – I cant smoke in the rest of the house during normal hours as I don’t want my father to find out I smoke

4)      To get away from the family.

5)      To get away from my nagging roommate, a.k.a. ‘princess’ – she means well, it is just that I am a slob.

Now, frogs implanted my initial hatred for Lahore and the province Punjab overall. Yes, frogs.  Fucking frogs. They were everywhere. Moreover, most annoying of all, they appeared in the bathroom.

A few years back, I recall sitting on the throne with an Archie Comic and I got that feeling… the feeling you get when you know someone is watching you for sure. I was sure no one was looking ‘into’ the bathroom, which resembled a bloody prison cell, and just for the sake of it, I opened my legs and ahem, looked down, and thinking that maybe something had crawled up or in the toilet bowl. And shocker of shocks! A frog the size of my bloody palm leaped from between my legs! Of course, not thinking about my hygiene I ran out from the bathroom (sans the comic book, duh).

Well, that is the first time I saw a frog. Then the houseguests were to inform me, that the house, as well as all the bathrooms, was full of the jumping amphibians. My cousins took sheer joy in picking one up, holding them in their palms and giggling as they urinate. Its just pathetic how you come about to learn the defense mechanism of a frog.

I would also like to add here, you can choose your friends but not your family. That is just a gloomy realization. Something you cannot do much about. Especially when the frog is urinating on your ‘greatest’ bully of a cousin’s palm. Dazzling sight.

Anyhow, moving beyond the ugly nostalgia and back to the reason for this post.

A few days back I heard that there were frogs in the garden. I was reminded of Lahore, Punjabis and of course my solace; the bathroom. My green-thumbed mother brushed me off when I asked her to get them killed or something. She said it was a ‘healthy’ sign for the garden. Not for me.

Next, as it was bound to happen, the green jimeros were in the car park. I controlled my self (I have ‘rage’ issues).

Now, ladies and gentlemen, THEY ARE IN MY FUCKING BATHROOM!!! First, I thought they were bloody cockroaches, but no, three, not one, but three jumping frogs were frolicking and doing GOD KNOWS WHAT behind the washbasin! I was settled on my throne, with my freshly lit cigarette, and Khushwant Singh joke book (vol.5 if anyone is interested) away from the miserable life outside the bathroom door and I saw some life in the bathroom. I mean other than my pseudo self. I put on my glasses, looked closely, and after confirming that they were not cockroaches, I yelled, THESE FUCKING PUNJABI FROGS ARE NOW IN THE BATHROOM! ‘PRINCESS!!!

‘Princess’, by the way, did not bother to respond. She thought I was just laughing at another one of the jokes from the book and wanted to share one with her. Family.

Princess is not her real name, but I just think it suits her more than her real name. She acts like one.

This time I did take sufficient care of my hygiene before leaving the bathroom.

By the way, Mortien and Bay-gon does not work on them (the frogs). I think it is just like ecstasy or speed for them because they were jumping some more.

That was my loser moment ‘Number 1” of the week.

Croak.