Dorky Guffaw and The PonyTale Tail

Dorky Guffaw is a superhero. He is a conventional superhero, in lieu of the fact that he does not conform to any of the stereotypes that you'd associate with every other superhero that you'd be aware of, who exists out there.

Dorky Guffaw came into being, one fine ennui-filled afternoon, when a colleague of mine and I were engaged in arbit gtalk chatter, in the absence of anything else remote fruitful to accomplish, and even if there would've actually been something that may have been done, the enthusiasm levels had dipped to negative, facilitating some arbit chatter that lead to the creative section of the brain working overtime, thus resulting in DG's birth.

It is a mere coincidence that he shares his initials with those of DeveGowda or Dolce and Gabbana, for any resemblance between this fictional character and the afore mentioned ones is unintended.

Dorky Guffaw is an uncoordinated klutz, who, in a quixotic manner, has become the self appointed saviour of the Indian IT industry, and its thousands of employees. Just like the absolutely jobless bunch of kids in Enid Blyton novels, that went around trying to solve cases or crimes they had no business involving themselves in, DG also takes up cases despite not being assigned any and his methods of working and going about doing things aren't half as delightful as that of the jobless kids who, strangely, have alliterative collective names (Five Find-outers, Famous Five, Secret Seven and the like).

Dorky Guffaw's trademark move is his dorky guffaw, laughter that rumbles deep from within his skinny being and is accompanied by pig-like snorts that he makes in an attempt to laugh. This is usually done at the end of solving a case, and for the sake of having continued readership, no attempts have been made to describe this sound, and our deepest pity rests with those that have an overactive imagination and need no descriptions to imagine Dorky Guffaw's dorky guffaws.

Since this is DG's blog debut, there was the necessity of having to have such a detailed background of his, a sort of 'pilot-episode', had this been a sitcom, and the author hopes earnestly that he shall refrain from going off on unnecessary tangents in future adventures, but can't guarantee the same.

(Now would be the right time to add the subscription of this blog either to Google Reader or Bloglines or some other RSS feed reader).

This particular adventure begins on an A/C bus on the Mysore-Bangalore highway, which Dorky has boarded, in order to get back to Bangalore, and to his office. This particular adventure ends, as will all the others (well, most of the others), with his getting embarassed, but that to him makes as much of a difference as heavy rain does, to a thick-skinned buffalo. (That analogy sounded better in my native tongue, Konkani.)

Being a lone traveller on almost all his journeys, even on this occasion, the seat next to Dorky's was empty. Normally, an empty seat would either stay empty, or be taken over by some random obnoxious guy who'd talk away on his phone on a loud voice, drowning out the loudest music Dorky could find on his portable music player, or someone who was bulky and would sit such that Dorky's thin frame was further squeezed in the limited seat space that he actually had.

The 'Maximum Moisturizer' ad of old times, where a person sees a beautiful girl on a flight, and hopes that she comes and sits next to him, whlie she goes ahead and actually says that the guy is on her seat, is fiction. It happens only in the world of movies of the romantic comedy types and advertisements where you are then cajoled into buying random shit you never needed in the first place anyway, with the promise that if you do, someone who fits the bill of lovely woooman would come and sit next to you, and you'd get along like a house on fire and then either part ways or hook up. A lot of poor sods have ended up investing in Maximum Moisturizer, consequently, for no logcal reason whatsoever.

Dorky never had any such luck, but today was slightly different. Maybe it was because he carried two handkerchiefs, one for blowing his nose into, and the other standard issue one to wipe his face. The seat next to him was empty until the bus started, and just as it was about to leave, a real cute girl climbed in, and after scanning all the seats around, came and sat down next to him.

Dorky's heart skipped a beat, for she was, in a word, beautiful. Just because he didn't go out with too many women (too many = all the eligible ones out there) didn't make him the kind who would drop his standards of beauty, so we can asssume, correctly, that she'd have actually been beautiful, if he says so.

With a mole on her upper lip, that was very Cindy Crawford-ish, but many times more beautiful in a manner that only Indian women can be, and with the delightful smell of Davidoff Cool Water (the only Wooman's perfume Dorky could identify) watfting into his blocked nostrils, she was just the kind of person DG last expected to be sitting next to him.

Dorky had grown his hair for a year now, and had just begun tying it up in a ponytail, and was hence finding it uncomfortable to sit with his head against the headrest, for the felt, in earnest, the discomfort that goes with discovering how your head has something extra attached to it, that previously wasn't there.

Who better than a woman with a ponytail to offer advice in this regard, Dorky thought and decided to ask the cute chick next to him, about how she manages to sit without her ponytail poking the headrest bothering her. It reminded Dorky of a Tintin comic he had once read, 'Tintin and the Crab with the Golden Claws', where Captain Haddock's mate, Allan, asks him whether he slept with his beard under the blanket or over it, which led to the Captain having a sleepless night, trying to decide which way he actually did it.

What follows next is classic Dorky material. It must be said, at the outset that only a small fraction of initiating this conversation was in order to get chatting with her, while most of the intent was centered around resolving a genuine doubt.

Dorky: Excuse me, can I ask you a question?
(thinking to himself - could I have possibly asked something stupider than that??)

Cutie (raising her eyebrows, thinking to herself - here's another one who needs to bite the dust): Yeah?

Dorky (pointing to his ponytail): I just wanted to know how it is that you manage to sit, without your ponytail bothering you. I try sitting and I am not sure how it happens.
(It was around this time that he realized that this conversation sounded so much more logical and cogent within the confines of his mind, which was where he should've let it stay dormant at, in the first place)

Cutie (incredulous look on her face, wondering what sort of weirdos still walk the earth): I don't know, I am just used to it, I guess.

Dorky (shrugging his shoulders): Well, ookay. Guess it takes a little getting used to!

Don Juan he may not be, but he knew, thankfully, when he should shut his mouth without causing himself any further embarassment, while the other school of thought that was also in session within his head was trying to convince him that he'd already hit the pits and that since redemption was not possible after having unleashed the demons of stupidity, he might as well go all the way and continue the conversation.

The conservative school of thought won, as the Cutie drifted off into sleep on the adjoining seat, dreaming no doubt, about Prince Charming, who had a crew cut, and could come up with better starting lines of conversation, than something involving haircare, something about coalition politics or about Ishihara test frames to detect colour blindness.

He went back to his reading, and listening to music and continued the journey, not knowing where his next mis-adventure would come from.

Epilogue:What actually happened next was that DG commenced blogging about the entire fiasco, right during the journey after cutie nodded off. Cutie subsequently woke up, and on her own volition, offered him some chocolate, and they got talking and spoke for an hour. Pleasant, enjoyable conversation ensued, the kind that you could expect between two strangers who would never expect to meet each other again, and he eventually got off the bus, when his stop arrived, to head back to where he used to be.