In a Kill-Bill world it would have been jets of blood spurting out. In my world it was just some blood gushing out happily from my foot. The water in the tub not really able to dilute the thick warm blood that just came out of my body. But the blood is not what I noticed or felt first. It was the thud, as my head banged against the hard ceramic of the bath tub. For a couple of seconds there I thought it was a harmless fall with just a bump on my head as a reminder. Only a couple of seconds later did I feel a painful sensation in my foot and saw the bloody blood.
It was one of those days when even if you fractured your skull, you had to report to work. There was a big meeting scheduled and there was no way I could pull out. Off I pulled myself out of the tub and washed my bloodied feet and rushed down to see if I could somehow stop the blood. As I searched frantically for a stopper, the blood oozed out like there was gonna be no tomorrow. The pitiful little plaster I had was no match for the ~1 inch cut in my foot. None of the medically approved items in my first-aid kit could stop the blood. It was time to get Indian. I rushed to the kitchen, pinched off some turmeric and sprinkled it liberally on the cut; not unlike how I usually sprinkle for my Cabbage Poriyal. And voila, after a few seconds the flow decreased!! But just the turmeric was not the solution, I still needed a plaster if I had to get to work. Enter uncle.
It would not have required a Sherlock Holmes to figure out that there was an injured animal from the trail of blood I left from the bathroom to my room. I can imagine that it was not the most pleasant of things for uncle to wake up and see. Uncle, however, came into my room and saw me fiddling around with the bloody foot. He immediately rushed up and got his first aid box which had just the plaster that I used to have wet dreams about. A good 2’’X3’’ plaster which would totally and completely cover up my wound. With no time to clean the turmeric off the wound, I quickly wrapped the plaster on the wound and tied it around with a cloth bandage to ensure it did not slip off. Quickly dressed(wore my socks and shoes with utmost care) and set off to work. Limping.
As luck be it, the meeting room was on the 4th floor. I climbed all the way up limping only to hear that the meeting room was overbooked and we had to go down to the canteen for the meeting. Just as we settled down there was a suggestion to try and find a proper meeting room. *&$%&*. The only meeting room we managed to get was the one across the street in Talbot house. Everybody set off in a hurry, I fell back limping at my own sweet pace. After the meeting, all through the day at workI kept imagining that blood was still oozing out . I kept my usual visits to the loo at a bare minimum and timed it such that I limped across when none of my managers/friends were around. But then it was meant to be my lucky day and the loo in my floor was ‘Not Working’(as the notice on the door indicated), so I had to limp down a floor to take a leak.
As the day ended I knew that I could not put up with so much theatrics at work – the limp, the blood, the meetings – and decided to take it easy and WFH today. Dunno why everytime I read WFH it looks like WTF.
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