the Pyramid was all the rage in the organisation. That was but natural since it
was the General Manager’s wife who had introduced the concept to the place.
Everywhere I went, I heard raves about
the Pyramid. “But what exactly is the Pyramid?” I queried, and was met with
blank looks, some humming and hawing, and some “It’s a miracle” kind of answers.
So I decided
to have a look at the Pyramid myself. It was a simple conical tent made of
plywood, emanating strong fumes of new paint on the outside and decidedly musty
floor was splattered with wood shavings and splotches of white paint, and in
the centre was spread a white bedsheet.
Pyramid stood a pot of water with
another smaller pyramid placed atop it. All along the walls were pinned posters
that proclaimed the myriad wonders of this conical tent.
vague friends were not wrong after all. The posters said the Pyramid was THE
cure for just about every mental and physical ailment known to man, from manic
depression to kleptomania, from spondylosis to cancer.
I hated to
be the fly in the ointment but I still needed answers. So I asked, “How does
one avail of the wonderful benefits of the pyramid?”
I was told to enter the tent and meditate,
then come out a whole new woman. For how long, I asked, and was told I could sit in there for as long
as I wanted.
So I sat in
the close interior, trying not to visualise ‘Nam prisoners in their cages. I
sat till I could no longer bear the
paint fumes, the smell of the wood shavings . The woman in charge was
disappointed. “You probably aren’t sitting in the lotus position,” she said. I
forbore to point out that she hadn’t talked of any particular position before I
A few days
later, I sat for seven minutes till a raging headache forced me to flee the
confines of the Pyramid. “You probably aren’t facing north” she said. I forbore
to tell her there was no directional marking to that effect inside.
the ritual of drinking the Pyramid water. It tasted like, well, any other kind of
potable water to me. Wiser now, I forbore to say so but something in my face
must have tipped the woman off. “You are gulping the water down” she told me
disapprovingly, “You must take tender sips.”
It was soon
borne upon me that I was the rebel in the game of Praising the Pyramid. All the
ladies made it their business to convert me to the cause, telling me how their
ailments disappeared after a few minutes inside the structure, how they slept
better, ate better, felt better, even fought better with their husbands,
Now who was
I to argue with the mystic Pyramid? So I resolved to emerge, after my next
stint inside, with a glowing face and to sing paeans to the P.
wasn’t to be. I emerged with a wan face and I emerged wobbling. You see, I’d
twisted my foot getting out at the
narrow entrance . Just between you and me, I think those ‘Nam prisoners had it
Labels: Humour, pyramid