The Surveyor Charming

First things first. This post below is part of contest about KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken) Indiblogger

I work as an Marine cargo and hull and machinery Surveyor and a Loss Assessor/Adjuster and whenever there are damages notified under the policy of insurance (general Insurance), I visit the place and ascertain the cause, extent and nature of loss and submit my report on the damages and assessment of loss for underwriter's (Insurance company's people) considerations. That's my job profile.

Now starts the fiery fiction:

There was a case in Baramati, Maharashtra, where sugar canes were damaged due to deterioration and the claim was not payable owing to certain clauses in the policy. I told the customer so. He got so upset with me that he called the insurance company names and he called me a fox. A Wily Fox at that. He cursed me. He anathematized me to become and remain a fox until such a day when I would have to kiss a lady and she hit me in return, only then, would I turn back in to a human being again. I laughed it off. I said, "Had I been a frog,  Mortal, princess may have kissed me. But a fox? And besides, is this latth Holi? Bihari women hit their husbands with sticks on that day!

I could not control my laughter over this most insane curse while continuously  scratching my self. I was becoming more mindful of smells around me. My eyes were automatically searching for food, small herbivores and sugarcane of course...Far away behind me, I could see the customer insured smiling in peace, his eyes looking evilly serene. I growled. WTF? Growl? What was happening to me? Was I turning in to a fox..."damn", I said. Least I could turn in to a humongous ware wolf. Why a tiny little fox?

And then the transformation began. I was dancing as if undergoing catharsis. Everything inside me seemed changing. Except my brain. My brain was noting each and every aspect of this painful change and I was still me, inside my brain. In my brain the least. Thank God I thought. Or else, the curse would have remained forever as generally fox population are not known to kiss humans out of the blue and then get beaten for kissing them, they are usually beaten for entering the sugarcane forest and destroying the crop no ?

The worst part about transition was the ever growing itch to lick myself, scratch and then catch my own tail to bite the bloody ticks off. Yes, ticks. Incentives of the curse, I guess. So there I was standing now, looking totally like a fox, carrying a laptop case and smelling tires of my car. Could have easily blended in as a corporate fellow, but I somehow curbed my emotions.

The Sticky Situation: -

Now anybody would admit that a human being becoming a fox is a sticky situation to be in. One does not know what to do in such a scenario. No call centres for help too! So I decided to do what I do best, firstly, since I was in Baramati, Land of Sharad Pawar, I filled myself to the fullest and ate some more. Sugarcanes.But, eating and roaming around those lands got me noticing that that there were no women who would dare come near me. Infact, even before my Emraan Hashmi style intro, I was being either shooed away or I scared off people.

The Sharp Mind : -

So, I decided to migrate - from Sugarcanes (Baramati) to Nashik (grapes and vineyards) where metrosexy women throng the vineyards and I could fairly have chance to get close to them, meekly looking like a pomerarian...kiss plus some wine. Not a bad idea at all. Wily, eh! The idea was as brilliant as Himmesh Reshamiya singing, composing and acting in his own produced directed film and watching it alnoe. The idea was as brilliant as Emraan Hashmi getting paid to kiss and act in the film.

Now Have you ever seen in your life a Fox using a laptop and internet dongle to GPS his way across from Baramati - Pune - Nashik? Well, thats precisely how I was looking like. Thank god I did not win an I-pad for this and this. Life would have been miserable using the touch screen with those finger nails. The only thing I avoided were highways. The roadkills scared the shit out of me. I crossed the plains and the scenic beauty. Since these lands have cash rich crops the farmers were happy faced. Not like those cotton farmers. Foxes or politicans do not pay attention to such areas anyways. Its difficult to survive and sustain there. Jungle rule.

I did not forget to carry some sugar cane in my laptop case. Planning, see?

The Fiery Tongue : -

Distance from Baramati to Nashik would be somewhere about 10 days as the crow flies. Well, may be 15 days as the fox trots. Besides I was not an ordinary fox. I was used to the gymnasiums and the tread mills, but this was bloody different. Real walking. Who does that! So after this tumultuous journey I reached a vineyard and saw a group of people (LADIES) seeing the vineyard and going about.

I became restless in head, but calm. Like a carnivore hunter. I wanted to turn in to human again and the sudden rushing of blood and pumping of adrenaline could not be avoided. See, my head was still Human. I slowly and steadily crawling towards the group of ladies. I had set my target. She was a young twenty something girl. Long hair, glowing jet black eyes, a tad on brownish side. Sexy in her own way. She also looked somewhat the kind of person who would hit back if some fox came and tired to kiss her. She must definitely be from Delhi, thought me foxy mind.

So I went near her, cowering, ears down and tail in my hind and looked at her with an innocent gaze, as if I was expecting a glucose biscuit from her. She noticed me and came close to me. She crouched down to my level and started petting me, not literally. That was my idea. as soon as I leapt to kiss her and suddenly my wife pinched me.

The Reality : -

What the hell, I thought. I found my self back in human form and that too in a KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet) in Vashi, Navi Mumbai (Had I kissed that girl or no) ? Saw the empty fiery grilled chicken bucket in front of me and my wifey told me that I was about to kiss the bucket after finishing it. That's when she pinched me she said.

Strange things this fiery grilled chicken makes you think. Its like transcendental out of body meditation when eating the chicken at KFC.

Well, thats the story of a man day dreaming eating the best fried chicken in the world. Its not just finger licking good I think. Its ethereal and an art form of a food.