My Nose and its Nuances

 Now the title might seem quirky, but protagonist of our today's story is equally absurd. It has already proved it's weirdness by donning a mask these days. More than the corona, its the organ that needs to be controlled and made to it mind its own pathetic business. At least mine needs to be told again and ever again.... "Dear Nosy, its none of your poking business!" But it just doesn't listen and stands out against all the other facial elements making me an object of friendly ridicule. Its so attention catching that friendly gestures instead of pulling my cheeks, land on pulling my already pulled long nose. Sometimes I wish these gestures would offer their services when the Dear Nosy is overflooded with emotional mucus. The kerchief very arrogantly rubs the troubled organ red as if punishing it for its interference hobbies. You and I, we both are gifted with this sensual organ as an inlet of energy and outlet of relief. But mine is a super ambitious and ambiguous nose. It tries to be the Jack of All Trades Master of None. 

One day it smelled something fishy. You would say what's wrong in that? Absolutely nothing, only a vegetarian nose should know its limitations and smell accordingly. The mind has given Dear Nosy, the authority to provoke and evoke desires of another world. ( Arey for a vegetarian like me.... Smelling fishy is another world). Least it doesn't understand the messy pool dear mind will land into, if it succumbed to the fishy aromas. 

Nevertheless, it again pokes me within saying" Appy, its FISHY not salmonic or prawny fishy but Dal mein kuch Kala hai type fishy.....Read good books and keep it to yourself... Don't attempt writing!" 

Oh the poor me could never read between lines, for I was always made to write on blank papers. (some handwriting expert had suggested my troubled parents-that's for some other blog). Again, kali dal and fish.... 

But why is my nose being brainy? Someone just within protested, " Because you finished your brains! " Whatever it is, the nose sends me on a detective expedition making me fall miserable again on my NOSE! 

After this, I sternly warn it to stay at its place and let me remain in mine. Angry that it is, people now call me 'Nakchadeli'! How does one explain the other that its the action of an element  that is having a reflection on my poor personality. Though the anger is dissolved in the incessant mucus running to accompany the tears, still the stigma remains. Like a mother who has to bear with her naughtiest child, I keep tolerating its tantrums. Sometimes I feel like giving my baby a make over by placing it in the hands of diligent surgeon but again here it smells costly and makes me run to the exit. 

It has its own desires and orgasmic pleasures where it instigates the finger to dig, pick and tickle. The urge rises suddenly in the middle of a meeting or a presentation and I need to patiently explain to it the private ways of indulgence. It can satisfy itself only in the No Man's Land, in total conspiracy. Kisi ko bhi pata nahi chalna chahiye, being woman she picks her nose in public. 

The moment the mask ritual was announced, my joy knew no bounds. Now I will be able to tame my terrible teenager. But aghast the lockdown coming to an end, the mask will go to the bin. The nose will bring out its deadly head and now start minding other's business. It will involve the other members of its tribe and unwantedly people will be pushed to poke their noses into each others fishy tales. 

Dear Nosy, when you flowed this season you scared us which was still tolerable but when you poke all seasons it is ghistly, ghastly..... The ghosts of botherations hover with people asking you.... Ye aisa kyon hai? To which I only reply, Teda hai par mera hai.