Ek "dirty" si gym story..

I had a near-death experience in the gym yesterday. No, it did not involve me falling off a machine and hitting my head on the floor, as most of you might assume. The attempt on my life was a very subtle one, one that would have defied forensic experts completely, one that would leave absolutely no evidence behind. Yet it was a terrifying experience, and one that very nearly achieved its sadistic goal, that of sending me to my grave, prematurely.

I was on the treadmill, running away to glory, in a vain attempt to get rid of the extra pounds that have been strangely attached to me ever since I was a young boy, acting as a disposal bin for my granny`s ghee-rich cooking. As I reached the 14th minute, gasping, my lungs fit to burst, I was desperate for a deep breath. I was about to inhale, when my breath caught somewhere in the region between my nasal passage and my lungs, and that ladies and gentlemen, was the precise moment, when I knew I was in danger.

I looked at my would-be-assassin, on the next treadmill, trying to kill me with his scent, emanating from the socks that he was wearing, which were probably last washed, in 1947, and were largely responsible for the English leaving India. The smell was so repugnant, that a skunk would have been put to shame. Each time he took a step, a new wave of anti-deodorant air would rush in my direction. A few seconds of this and I started to see stars in my head, owing to an acute lack of oxygen in my brain. Forsaking the cooling down routine, I jumped off a running treadmill and rushed for the door, drawing air hungrily, and thanking my lucky stars, that I was safe enough to tell you guys about my ordeal. The only good thing that did come out of this experience was that my temporary hiatus from because of a real bad spell of blogger`s block came to an abrupt end, and here I am again, woefully recounting my rendezvous with my maker.