The Quirky Life of P

Humor and satire revolving around Mr P- a fictional mix of an avatar of Mr Bean and the veritable Bertram Wooster of Wodehouse fame.

Archive for the category “confusion”

P buys Bitcoins


long or short

A parody of Madame Zeroni’s song in Holes
If only, if only,” Mr P sighs,
“The price of cryptos would go up so high”
While he waits below, hungry and lonely,
Longing for BTC to moo-oo-oon,
“If only, if only.”

It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon and P had just got up and had a shower. As he was getting out to buy his burger for lunch, P saw his neighbour, a stock trader by profession, pruning his rose bushes in the garden and went over to the picket fence to have a chat.

Neighbour: “P, I hope you won’t mind but I have to ask you this question. You are looking very tired these days. What’s up?”

P: “I’ll let you into my secret. You see, I am planning to buy a Lamborghini.”

Neighbour astonishedly: “Did you win the lotto or something?”

P: “No, but I am into crypto currency these days and so I can hardly sleep. And maybe that’s why I look tired.”

Neighbour: “Ah! I see… So what coins?”

P: “Only bitcoin.”

Neighbour: “Are you long or short?”

P was puzzled and stunned, wondering why his neighbour who was normally very circumspect and prudent, was changing the topic from crypto trading to his physical dimensions……

Tired of his old Getz, he longed for a Lambo
And though without a twin or a name like Winklevoss,
P went into crypto-world like daring Rambo,
Hoping it would  end all his monetary woes!

But P bit off more than what he could chew,
When he borrowed money from his credit card
And bitcoins he could buy just one or two;
His get-rich-quick plans were totally marred!

Of blockchain and cryptos P had no clue
And had bought the BTC at its peak,
Hoping its value would then accrue;
But crashing prices left his future bleak.

He was sleepless, tracking crypto price,
As he HODLed onto his coins tight;
Fud and fomo made his heart rate rise
As bulls and bears made their daily fight.

He doesn’t get what is ‘short’ or ‘long’
But if only, if only BTC would moon,
He can stop singing that soulful song
From “Holes”, he sings so out of tune;
For his neighbours, it would be such a boon!


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The sound of the notification of a message arriving on his mobile phone woke up P from his afternoon nap. As soon as P read the first line in the message on his phone with his blurry eyes, he shut it down. He was scared that a virus that could be sent along with the SMS could destroy his phone. P rushed out with it to his friend and neighbour and told him about the spam message soliciting him for something, the mere mention of which made him blush and stutter.

“Now, be honest with me. Have you been browsing any of those naughty, no good websites?” asked his neighbour eyeing P in what P felt was a very suspicious way.

“No! Never! All I use my data on the phone is to download spirituality stuff. I really don’t know who could be sending me such a message” responded P. His conscience was clear but P couldn’t help feeling he had guilt written all over his red face.

“Let me have a look” said the neighbour and P bravely turned the phone on and scrolled to the message section and handed it to him like a hot potato.

His friend opened up the latest message on P’s phone and started to chuckle as he read it.

“What a dirty mind you have P!” he said. “The message reads “Get it laid this weekend” and you probably missed the second word “it” in the sentence when you read it! It is only a carpet company’s advertisement!”

P gets puzzled


P sat down to pen his verse

For a post on a one word prompt;

He scratched his head, he pulled his ears

But was left totally whomped.


He broke the word without a wrench:

The first three letters stood for cheat;

The next two, the UN or ‘one’ in french;

The last four formed something one could beat.


Confused what the word really meant,

P wondered how one could be so dumb

To scam a UN percussion instrument;

It was such a conUNdrum!


A mantra for absentmindedness

He bent down on all fours and peered under the bed. It was not there. He checked under the cushions, on the sofa and searched with his fingers in the gaps in between, but was disappointed. P then took a moment to mentally track what he had exactly done on getting home with his shopping last evening.

untitled-1-copyBoth his hands had been loaded with his shopping bags that he had taken from the boot of the car and he had barely managed to open the door to enter the house. He had dumped his shopping on the dining table, as was his usual way, and had then stretched out on the sofa to watch some TV. It was only much later that he had unpacked and sorted out his shopping, after which, he had had his dinner and retired to bed.

But now it was quite late in the morning and although he was dressed and ready to leave for work on time, he could not find his car keys. He had searched everywhere in the house and had even gone through the grocery he had bought the previous day, but the car keys had simply vanished. He did not wish to lose his job again and only if he could find the key in time, the situation could still be saved. He could then get to work even if a little late and sneak into his seat without alerting his boss.


Fate however seemed to be conspiring against him. The key had mysteriously disappeared and P was nearly in tears with frustration and worry. Frantically he searched through the ledges of a book shelf which housed several spiritual and mystical books that he had collected over the years to help him in his inward quests. He had not bothered to read them and had only kept them dusted once in a while. His anxious and fumbling hands dislodged some books and one fell on the floor. P picked it up to put it back in its place. The book was one that he had borrowed from the library and it was all about mantras and mystical powers. P was quite in the habit of turning to God and the mystical when everything else failed.

However the only mantra P knew was “Om” and as a last resort, he decided to go to the car and try it out. He put his hand on the door handle on the driver’s side and pulled it. It opened magically. Excitedly P got in and sat on the driver’s seat. He held the steering wheel tightly with his fingers and closed his eyes. He then ran his hand down the side of the steering wheel and P muttered a loud “Om” as magically his fingers touched the car keys lodged in the slot there! P could never decide whether it was his mystical mantra or his absentmindedness that had brought the key to its slot in the car! It was all such a mystery!

The story of noodles

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“So, what story are you going to tell me today, Mr P?” asked the kid. P had his own secret name for the boy and it was Dennis the Menace. There seemed to be a lot in common between the kid and the cartoon character. Usually P gave him a wide berth, but today, however, his parents had asked P’s help to look after him while they took their younger one to the clinic. The baby had been crying all night and the parents had decided to seek the doctor’s help.

P had agreed to look after Dennis because he had some time on his hands and there were plenty of packets of Maggie noodles in the pantry. P had a theory that most kids seemed to like Maggie noodles… The little menace in front of him, also it seemed, was very fond of noodles… If it hadn’t been for the noodles, P would not have agreed to take on the responsibility of looking after the kid and giving him lunch as he had no idea about what to cook to keep the boy happy.

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“Mr P… Didn’t you hear me? What story are you going to tell me today?” asked Dennis. The boy had wanted to play football inside the house and P had dissuaded him from it with the promise of a story. However, nothing was on his noodles other than the thought of how noodles were going to save his day.

“Well, how about a story on how noodles came on earth?” asked P.

“Don’t be stupid Mr P. Noodles did not ‘come on earth’. They were made on earth,” the boy pointed out.

“OK then, I’ll reword it. A story of how the world’s first noodles were made… Does that sound alright?”

The kid nodded and sat down on the carpet next to P.

P gathered his wits about and tried to make up a story.  He cleared his throat and began…

“I heard this story from my grandmother and she had heard it from hers… Long, long ago, in the land of the yellow river, people were living happily. The river kept the land fertile and people ate cooked balls of pounded millets and grains. There was a young family of a man, his wife and two children who lived in a small hut by the river. The father used to go hunting and fishing while the mother cooked and took care of the children. In the evenings, when the father returned home with the fish and all the raw materials needed for dinner, all of them sat down together and had their sumptuous meals of millet balls, fish and a special dish that the mother used to make with stuff she gathered while walking along the river banks.”

At this point, P paused and made sure that he had the boy’s full attention. He then continued…

“Now, the eldest boy in that family was a little spoilt kid. It came to a point when he would eat only the special dish and nothing else.”

“Must have been very yum… What was it exactly?” asked Dennis, his eyes alight with vicarious satisfaction.

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“It looked like noodles” P continued. “However, disaster struck in the form of a very cold and severe winter. The father could not go out and catch fish and the mother came back empty-handed for days and days when she went to gather material for the special dish. There was only flour of millets and grains in the house and meals had to be prepared just with that. The boy who would not eat anything other than the special dish was starving. It was then that the parents came out with the idea of tricking him to eat his food. While the boy, hungry and tired was sleeping, they made a paste of millet and grain flour with water. Instead of making small balls with the dough like they used to before, they stretched it out flat on the floor. They then cut thin strips out of it like strings and put them in boiling water and cooked them. The dish came out looking very similar to the special dish the mother used to cook and when the boy woke up, he ate the meal heartily. Thus the world’s first noodles were born!”

P smiled and looked at the little boy’s face, but did not see much of a reaction.

“You must be hungry now. Let me cook lunch for you. Shall I cook some Maggie noodles?” asked P and was happy and relieved to see the eager nod.

P mentally thanked God and Maggie noodles for saving him from cooking something else that would have demanded more time and effort.

As he was about to get up from the chair, the little boy said “Wait!  You didn’t tell me what the mother was collecting when she made the original noodles or the special dish as you called it. What was it?”

“Oh! They were earthworms that were in plenty around the fertile banks of the river” said P and noticed the sudden nauseous look on the boy’s face.

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“Can I please have something other than noodles, Mr P?” he asked squeamishly before he doubled over and was sick on the carpet. There went P’s best laid plans!

Second-Hand Stories


In today’s writing challenge, you’ll choose a scenario (or invent your own) and write a poem, a short story, a vignette, a scene, or flash fiction based on Nighthawks by Edward Hopper.

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Soda man: “You folks shouldn’t fret too much. His home is on the other side of the town. When he reaches his home and hunts for the house keys in the bag, he will realise that he has the wrong bag and will scramble back here in a jiffy”.

Man next to the woman: “Well, all we can do now is sit here and wait… It’s quite late already, how long is ‘jiffy’?”

Soda man: “Considering that it’s too late to get any bus, he will have to walk here and it could be another half hour.”

Woman to the man next to her: “To think that I had only gone to the powder room for a few minutes and my bag disappears… I still can’t understand how my bag could be mistaken for the gentleman’s case.”

Soda man: “That’s Mr P… Done this many times… When in a tipple and otherwise…”

The mystery man who had kept quiet till then: “Taken my case home too, a couple of times…He is quite absent-minded and … quite quirky…”


Ye folks who sit next to the man

In the train or bus or a restaurant,

Look out for your bag and umbrella;

Though P may not be a bad fella,

He mistakes your things for his own;

Absent-mindedness with age has grown,

He finishes your drink leaving his half-drunk for you;

Be careful he could use your tooth-brush too!

Ye folks be mindful when P is around,

A quirkier person, can’t be found.


Find a Muse in the Masters

P asks for more……….!

If only, if only, the weekends slowed down

And Monday took a long time to dawn!

If only, if only, the work days whisked by

And Monday to Friday sped in the blink of an eye!


Settling back to work on Mondays, was very painful and hard for Mr P! It is well known that a lot of people suffer from Monday blues. Some people can be mean and grumpy for being necessitated to put an end to the joys of the weekend and get to work. “This will have a negative impact on the productivity of others besides themselves”, thought Mr P. 

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P was tired of slogging from Monday to Friday and often wished he had a magic button to fast-forward these days. P’s understanding of Einstein’s theory of relativity was very sharp as he realised that time slowed down during weekdays. He wished that there could be more vacation days. It would have been alright if there were fewer working days in a week. Having just the weekend of Saturday and Sunday off was not enough at all…

“Then one surely must have Fridays off too”, P thought. He strongly believed that not much work gets done on a Friday anyway!

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People like him get so tired by Friday and are so eager for a break by then, that all what gets done on a Friday is just planning things for the weekend…. Such as whether to go to the Mexican restaurant and have Tacos, Nachos and Burritos or to ‘Cubby’s sports bar and grill’ for sweet potato fries, fried chicken and Long island iced tea for dinner. 

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Plans had to be made for Saturday and Sunday as well such as  whether to  go to ‘Papa John’s or MacDonald’s for lunch and whether to spend the days outside in the hammock with his favourite tipple  or inside watching movies…There were so many important decisions to be made! So why not have a holiday on Friday as well? P aspired for long weekend holidays for every week in the calendar.

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Mr P would have liked Wednesday to be a holiday as well. “Does it not make perfect sense to have a day off in between the two working days? Wouldn’t that keep you fresh and eager to work on Tuesday and Thursday?” he thought.

It all seemed logical and ideal to P till he realised that he still would need his pay check to cover all days of the week, and for that, his boss needed to be convinced……..

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Pace Oddity

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