GUNTHROAT

Today I read a news in ‘’times’’ that an air hostess was sacked from jet airways for the reason that some pimples came up on her face and the authorities found it as the perfect excuse to lay her off at a time when aviation industry is facing huge operational costs( and eventual losses). I wonder whether having pimples is a problem for IT industry, because if it is then I am in deep trouble. My friend used to mock by saying my pimples are more highlighted than my face. When I came to Bangalore there was some relief to the pimple attack possibly due to change of climate. But now they are back. My Malayalam sir in school used to say pointing one of my pimple marks that this was the way through which my commonsense drained out. It is a curse which afflicts me whenever I am in real need of literally putting up a good face. Whenever there is a function in the family or in my college one or two new red ones would pop up from somewhere. I wonder from where they are coming. Some say they are passion pimples. But the interesting thing is jury is divided over concluding whose passion is it; whether it is mine or of the woman who are passionate towards me (though this option seems to be highly unlikely). There are various meanings attributed to pimples coming on different parts of our face. For example some people say when a pimple comes upon on the tip of our nose; it is due to excessive masturbation. I have consulted a lot of doctors to ward off this peril that is seriously impeding my amorous conquests (oh God if there were some beautiful women who were turned on by pimples; I would have turned them on like tube lights). After a dose of medicines (really expensive ones) the red army would retreat for a while giving me some peace, then one day they will come back and fill in my face making up for the days they were absent. These days I feel pimples have become a part of my life, like a drunken fellow passenger or an irritating neighbour, or worst a boss with a very bad temper to which we have to get used to. They come and go as they like, cultivating more and more fertile pastures on my face.
To conclude I heard that a person whose marriage got fixed recently (don’t start guessing it is not the one you are thinking) was counting the number of pimples on the face of his fiancée (reportedly after zooming the photograph). After hearing this I am worried about the girl whom I may marry one day. If she ever resorts to do the same with my photo and start counting my pimples it would take a decade to consummate our marriage. L
October 17th