This is the story of a girl and a boy who live in some city in the Southern part of India.It’s a Saturday and the boy is home, enjoying himself by wallowing in laziness. The girl is lounging around the couch ,trying to finish an interesting book. She’s been reading it for a few hours and feels the strain in her eye and decides to leave them on the floor on top of a book.
“Do you want to eat out?”the boy’s voice interrupts the girl.
“Of course!”she yelps, happy at the prospect of not having to cook.
Scrunchhhhhh… A sudden noise assails the senses of the pair.
“Uh-oh..”The boy declares,picking up a pair of horribly twisted glasses.
The girl stares in mute horror.
“What angle do you think that twisted frame is at? 130 degrees?” the boy asks ,trying to smother his fear and utter feeling of dread with horrible humour.
The girl still stares at him. Her body temperature is increasing at a rapid pace and she realises that she was going to do her valcanoe-act anytime soon. But the lava still is bubbling inside-so the words remain stuck at the base of her throat. The boy misunderstands this for her attempt at forgiving him and blithely goes on.
“Umm.. 140 degrees,maybe. I think that’s called an obstuse angle.” The boy says cheerily.
Something inside the girl snaps.
“That’s my twisted spectacles you are talking about!.And you are worried about the angle of twisting?” She exclaims in horror.
The boy balks.But he is made of sterner stuff and decides to keep up his charade.
“When did you get so materialistic?”He asks instead and runs away before she can plummel him with her book.
The girl goes back to her couch,with a huge pout. She now suffers from a chronic case of phantom-spectaclitistis and reaches for her glasses,assuming that they are still there.But alas,they aren’t.The boy broke them,right?.The withdrawal symptoms are so severe that she sometimes mopes the air with her handkerchief because she thinks she is still wearing those glasses. A wave of panic grips her when she gropes in the general area of her eyes and realises that her companion is gone !.Apparently,the disease has no cure and can only be replaced by a shinier,branded frame,which she knows the boy will buy her soon for being so nice about everything.
Is this what people mean when they say “A sad story with a good moral”?.
PS: I know that you are wondering why there is a picture of phantom when the post has got nothing to do with him..Chumma,just like that !