Anything can happen

So while some days are tough and the others not so much, there are days which are plain weird. Today was one of those. Now before I proceed, if you are a boy and you do not know me well enough and worse you squirm easy…I suggest this may not be the best read for you. For others, well…brace yourselves.

Today during a very focused Math class around 10 a.m. I hear a snap and a pinch on my back. I couldn’t figure out what it was and to be honest, I could not care less since we were busy learning how to understand word problems. About 10 minutes later, I see a few boys in my class looking at me strangely and the girls truly puzzled. I pointedly asked if it was the Math that was confounding them and very timidly Divya in my class points at my chest. My bra had broken and was hanging inside my kurta and it suddenly looked like I had grown a third breast. Now before, you start questioning the quality and my knowledge of right sizes and fitting (mainly for my two girl friends) let me tell you, this one was a very expensive one from La Senza and the fitting had absolutely no issues! It was just maybe that the bra was nearly 4 years old and it snapped. So I quickly regained composure, acted like everyone grows a third breast once in a while and scribbled a couple of word problems on the board and rushed outside class to figure how to resolve this.

My first reaction was to go to the toilet and just take it off and stuff it in my bag. It wouldn’t have been too much of an issue considering I was wearing a black kurta so loose that it could hold another person in it. But here comes the issue, the toilet in my school has a large gaping hole (for sunlight and other rodents to come in) which gave the world outside a beatific view of the business being conducted inside. While I was walking to the toilet, I also observed a few 10th grade boys staring at me and I am sure they figured what happened. It has been over 2 months in this school and I have enough data to prove that if the guys had figured out what happened I am sure they would pay me at least a token amount to see what unfolds in that multi-utility toilet. Hence, I decided to walk back to class bravely and just take the day as it comes.

By now the class was rife with rumours about what could have possibly happened to me. (For those interested, Santosh Pandi thought I have cancer and my cancer came out.)
I just folded my hands and told them its nothing to worry and how we should just move on with our lives. My tone or the look on my face squished any further conversations or questions. While they were solving Math, I was contorted like Houdini with my one hand inside my kurta trying to knot the bra in some very playboy’esque’ fashion so that it at least does not dangle. Needless to say, it didn’t work. So I was basically stuck with status quo unless I did a very Rachel Green pulling bra out of the sleeve thing. I chose a dangling bra over scarring 26 children for the rest of their lives.

Soon, it was lunch. There were many groups formed and finally, Thrisha one of the most mature (let us not forget, it is all relative here) girls in class came up to me with tears in her eyes asking if I was going to die. I told her no and decided she might be old enough to handle the truth. So I tell her in hushed tones, “Thrisha, I am perfectly fine. Like how you wear a shimeez inside your uniform, I too wear one and mine broke which is why my dress is looking different”
Thrisha gives me the most understanding look and just shouts in class “Dei Miss bra odanjuchu da…vera oru matterum illa” (guys, Miss just broke her bra…much ado about nothing!)


That’s it. The class accepted it as the most natural occurrence and everyone moved on with their lives without so much a question.

I love kids. So MUCH cooler….

Tagged ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: