Written with tongue firmly in cheek. To be taken with a pinch of salt...
The zombies are roaming around the shopping malls of the city.
The ladies are shopping for all types of products which catch their fancy. And sometimes they are accompanied by the zombies who are left with no choice but to chaperone their better halves.
And so they come with sleepy eyes and memories of good things which they left behind at their respective homes. Good things like sports channels on TV, video games, novels, magazines and all these along with a cool glass of beer.
But then an order is an order!
Once the order comes from their high command, their’s not to reason why. The order comes either in the form of a formal command, sometimes it comes with a sweet smile whereas sometimes it is just to act as a chauffeur to transport the fragile frames of their command centres from one shopping destination to the next.
All these disliked commands and the sweet memories of all the leisurely activities left behind at home take their toll, resulting in turning a hale and hearty male into a zombie.
So this is the community of docile zombies which you see in any shopping mall near you.
Sometimes the zombie stands beside his female owner but his eyes are on the other such female owners who have their own zombies with them.
Other times he answers in monosyllables to the enthusiastic questions posed by his owner, “Do I look fat in this dress?”… “no”. “Does this colour suits me?” …”yes”. “Do I buy this dress or the other one with the embroidery “… “This” or better still, “both”.
Same is the story in jewellery shopping. The owner takes her own credit card for making payments but when the moment of truth finally arrives, the card doesn't work. That's destiny! So the zombie dips into the unfathomable depths of his pockets to get his own cards and do what needs to be done. Sometimes he just sits in the car, hoping that this action will hasten the shopping process but he sits in vain.
But then people live with the presumption that things will brighten tomorrow.
And my fellow zombies! Please take out the trumpets and sound the bugle. The day has finally arrived!
A mall in far off Manchester has come out with a Man Creche! And happy days are here again. You drop the better half to the relevant shop and head to the Creche.
Or maybe it's the other way round…the better half drops you in the Creche, and she gets a token with a number written on it.
Your hand is held by a lovely lady, working in the Creche and designated as a Support Worker, who first puts a corresponding token band on your wrist, then leads you to a table with a game console where you can play your favourite games or read e-magazines like “Car World” or “Times” or any other.
The Support Workers bring you a glass of chilled beer served on the house. There is even a facility for rest and recuperation in the form of hammocks where you can catch up on your nap.
And there is also a Premium section where you are given Shoulder and head massages. In India it might take the form of Ayurvedic massages.
There are table tennis tables available for the sports oriented.
But guys, don't get into too much of day dreaming since your better half will return shortly, since now the time will be spent quickly, deposit the token, the support worker will lead you by your hand to the counter, the better half will take possession of you and lead you out of the mall, but not before you have cleared all the bills (don't worry, the Creche comes free).
Now the only thing which remains are the memories of a time well spent and the stories of shopping which your better half has done on her own, her trials and tribulations faced in trying out umpteen dresses.
Last breaking news was that the number of zombies in Manchester have reduced and it is now an endangered species.
Yatindra Tawde
