I Scream

My little nephew was coming home for lunch, so maa asked me to go get some ice cream. On the way back, maybe because I was dangling the flimsy plastic bag a bit too much, it ripped right through the middle. Eight cups of butterscotch ice cream went tumbling across the asphalt. As I bent down to pick them up, I see from the corner of my eye, an elderly gentleman walking up to the crime scene. Let's call him bhadralok number one. He stops right in front of me, and exclaims to an unseen audience "the plastic has ripped". Enter bhadralok number two. He says "eeesh, yes indeed, the plastic has ripped, and the ice cream has fallen out". While I try my best to gulp down a sarcastic retort, bhadralok number three announces "polythene bags should be banned, they are harmful to our environment". There's a collective groan of approval from the crowd. Oh yes, a crowd has formed by then. And all this in the span of less than a minute, mind you. Then comes fat sweaty kakimaa, wiping away the extra talcum powder on her neck with the edge of her saree. She looks into her big shopper, pulls out a bunch of plastic bags, throws one at me, and walks off. Before I can mumble a thank you, she's gone. And so has the crowd. Dispersed into the city called Kolkata.