The unconventional trip

The year is 1941. Somewhere in the middle of the second world war where many countries at that time went mad, there was a place where people were still somehow not worried that much. One where Yashraj film studios had their most orgasms — Switzerland. The most expensive country where the cows don’t suffer from altitude sickness and every photo you click there is automatically Insta worthy.

A person by the name Georges de Mestral came back home from his work shift, annoyed at the meetings which could’ve been an email, memo, a passing remark by the smoking area. (Sorry I’ve no idea how corporate worked in 1941. Pardon me for not having a time machine.)

To unwind, he took his dog out for a hike, because well, Switzerland. You can go on a hike anytime, unlike cities like Gurugram where you’ve to swim to reach somewhere after a 10 min rain spell. When he came back he observed burrs from the burdock plant clung to his dog's fur and his trousers. Next he did what any resourceful man with too much time at his disposal would do — he examined them under a microscope. Totally normal for an engineer in the 1940s in the middle of the freaking world war!

He was very interested in what he found. Then one thing led to other and after years of experimentation, he developed the hook-and-loop fastener, patenting it in 1955 and naming it Velcro from the French words "velours" (velvet) and "crochet" (hook).

Essentially one person’s boredom fun is now a big part of Viru Sahastrabuddhe from 3 Idiots’s character trait.

I very vividly remember that evening of 2024 summer. I was bored beyond death. Everything felt meaningless at that point. It felt as if I had seen all of Netflix and Prime. Thank God breathing is involuntary else I would’ve stopped doing that. That bored!

However luck wasn’t at my side. I didn’t have a dog, I couldn’t go on a hike (the nearest mountain was at least 100 km away), the world wasn’t in a war (thankfully) and I certainly didn’t have a microscope. Else I would’ve invented the Velcro again in 2024 and named it Claf, short for Clingy AF with the tagline — the only clingy thing that you want to stick.

Maybe it was the sugar drop, or my genius awakened, an idea struck which was too revolutionary for the time. I decided I would physically go to a shop to buy chips. I knew my prowess with the 10 min delivery apps. Just four clicks and a person would come running, panting, breaking signals to get me my stuff. Is this how the kings felt?

I wanted to make the most out of the this short trip that I would embark on, so I did what the productivity gurus have told us time and again — make a checklist. But for that I needed a journal which I didn’t have. So I ordered one on Blinkit and started writing but the list looked too unimpressive to motivate me to actually check it off. So I ordered a uni-ball to write like the productivity gurus. And obviously I added more stuff to get the order value to 199. Else I would’ve had to pay the delivery fee. I’m not someone who splurges. I save the delivery fee always. Morals!

The 10 min delivery took 17 minutes to arrive but I didn’t crib about it. Why would I? I wrote about this behavior in the last post. I didn’t want to be a hypocrite.

I made the list, finally. Then slipped out of shorts and wore pants because didn’t want the world to ogle at my hairy legs. Body shaming is unisex, trust me.

So, here I was all ready to step outside and conquer the world of real human interaction after being out of practice for far too long.

I reached the gate, stepped outside and looked at both sides. All good. This wasn’t that tough, I thought. I started marching towards the shop unhurried. I looked around and saw my neighbor burning trash in spite of regular garbage collection by the municipality truck and air pollution being a real thing . Well, to her defense, if she can miss that loud music of municipality truck everyday, she can live under a rock or denial (totally her choice) as well. Who am I to judge? Oh wait, too late.

My eyes then landed on the balcony of the next house where the uncle was scratching his belly from under his undershirt (why does this sentence sound so trippy?) and was looking at me at the same time. Boy he could multitask! Noice. By now, the lady was done burning the garbage and was also looking at me. We were in a threesome for a brief time and I became so uncomfortable. Wonder how they survive love triangles? (God bless your mind was associating threesome with well, corn)

A few more steps down the road and I was trying to mind my own business and a guy on bicycle asked me what time was it and I replied 150 minutes past 3. He looked at me as if stole his goat. Had he stared at me for two more seconds he would have collided with an actual goat. That made me feel like that glammed up actress whose one hair flip makes the ogling side artists to lose balance and trip.

But why do people have to chase normalcy so much that slight deviation feel so disastrous? I technically told the truth. A little mental math at his part would’ve done the job. What would’ve been funnier was if this guy knew the Abacus method and his animated hand movements for calculation would’ve made him lose balance.

Nonetheless, I moved ahead. These distractions weren’t enough to stop me in my way. Huffing and puffing I reached the shop. I was fourth in line and then fifth and then seventh. I totally forgot people don’t follow the line system. Everywhere you have to fight for your rights and chips. The person ahead of me while collecting his stuff asked for the total bill. Shopkeeper said 52. He passed on a hundred rupee note. Shopkeeper looked him in the eyes and with so much passion replied, ‘give me 2 more and I shall give you 50 back. I don’t have the change.’

Maybe it was the residual heat, or the person had skipped math classes but he went blank like the time my now wife hugged me for the first time. Next five minutes of my life went in seeing two grown ups fighting because one couldn’t understand simple math and the other one didn’t have the exact change. Not sure who won but I was certainly losing time. It settled when some kind person gave the shopkeeper exact change. Sheer madness!

And then my eyes locked with the shopkeeper who had a habit of being more interested in buyer’s life than the buyer himself/herself.

‘Arre you’ve come after so long. How have you been? How’s work? Still in the same job?’ words came out of his mouth faster than Eminem in Rap God.

I came after long because you ask so many questions instead of the most important one — what I want to buy? Basic stuff. I wish I could say all that to him.

I smiled and answered him. Asked him about the chips I wanted. Paid for it and headed back. The two minute of interaction was so tiring.

Maybe I was thinking too much.
Maybe not.
Maybelline. (thanks 9Gag)

The way back was easier. No one asked me anything, I avoided eye contact like a pro, and ignored the circus around me. Mission Chips was a success. Though I was more drained than after any gym workout.

This was the outside world I had been avoiding for so long: neighbors burning trash, uncles scratching stomachs like it was a competitive sport, and people forgetting basic math and etiquette. I had survived it for ten whole minutes, and it nearly finished me.

I unlocked my door, stepped inside, and collapsed into my natural habitat. The chips were my trophy. I could put them in a bowl like a civilized person, or I could eat straight from the bag like a raccoon. Obviously, I chose the bag. This world doesn’t deserve decent humans anymore.

Eighty years ago, when someone got bored, they invented Velcro. Today, out of boredom, you got this story—part comedy, part tragedy, all observation. Georges gave the world something useful. I gave you proof that even buying chips can feel like a war story.

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