If there is something that makes me incredibly envious, it is all those blogs that carry reports of blogger meets. You see, I live in a remote corner of the world, a corner where there is one Indian blogger. Why, even North Dakota would be a better place than this. These days, I am consumed by thoughts of blogger meets, and my favorite dream goes like this:

Venue: An expensive coffee shop somewhere in the world. We had called ahead to book the biggest table in the house, but when we enter, some poor sod is sitting there all by himself, sipping coffee. There are a couple of guys on the next table, gawking without shame, periodically interrupting their gawking to type something on their laptops.

Amit: “Waiter, looks like our table isn’t available yet.”

Waiter: “Why yes sir, let me go tell the guy to move to another table.”

PrufrockTwo: “One should give him a few minutes. Let the poor guy finish his coffee.”

Dilip: (Ears perking up on hearing the word poor): “Who said something about finishing the poor? Haven’t we done that enough already? We should all give up our houses for them for this city runs on their sweat. I took a train journey through India last week, and there was this poor lady who grinned at me through her tears of hunger. She had a red saree on her, how symbolic. That’s India for you.”

Meanwhile, someone arrives.

Hurree Babu: “Hello, I am Hureee”

Me: (to anonymous blogger sitting next to me): “Hurree Babu is a cross-dresser?”

Anonymous Blogger: “No you dork. Hurree Babu is her pseudonym.”

Suitably chastised, I shut up for the rest of the meeting. The poor guy finishes his coffee, and we are all seated. Another arrival now.

J Alfred Prufrock: “Hello everyone, sorry I’m a little late.”

Chandrahas: “That’s ok, dear sir. Dear waiter, can you please bring me a cup of coffee?”

Falstaff: “Coffee reminds me of a poem.” Starts speaking in verse.

Amit: Looks around at the glum faces. “Ok, let me break the ice with a joke. The license raj is a joke. Big Government is a joke. God is a joke. Heh. That was three jokes in one.”

J Alfred Prufrock: “Great joke! Let me ask you guys a question that has been bothering me for some time. I’d like to find out how you tell someone their coffee sucks.”

Nilu: “You puke on them.”

Waiters: “You seem to be hinting our coffee sucks. We smell superiority. You are a pompous man.”

J Alfred Prufrock: “Oh no, That’s not what I meant. I mean, I was not trying to make a statement on the quality of this specific coffee. I was idly wondering about a potential social situation.”

Tilotamma: “Idly? Idlies make my mouth water. Especially with coconut chutney. Man, oh man.”

J Alfred Prufrock: “As an addendum, I would like to issue a clarification; your coffee might actually be ok.”

Waiters: “Might?”

Falstaff: “Give the poor guy a break will you, all he did was ask an academic question.”

Dilip: “Poor? Did someone say poor? Yes, the poor need a break from capitalist oppression.”

Amit: “Cut it out will ya? Waiter, can I get another coffee please? With cow’s milk. Cows are very cool.”

Bridalbeer: “ Brian liked Mountain Dew. Bill does too. But I don’t. Meanwhile, the dog barks. A good cup of coffee helps people ruminate. It also helps them urinate.”

PrufrockTwo: “One is impressed by your convoluted logic. One would have never thought ruminate and urinate could be linked together so effortlessly. One would like to point you to a story on how great writers ruminate that appeared in this Zambian newspaper.”

Bridalbeer: “Brian surfs the internets. He shows as always Away on Yahoo. Ruminators are wimps. The barking dog is gone now.”

J Alfred Prufrock: “Interesting points. All three of them. I would like to add a corrigendum to my earlier response. Did I mention my question was purely academic?”

Dilip: “Did you say poorly academic? How can the poor think of academics when their houses are being destroyed?”

Rohan: “Who said something about letting the poor be? Haven’t we done that enough already? We should give up our houses for them for this city runs on their sweat. I took a train journey through India last week, and there was this poor lady who grinned at me through her tears of hunger. She had a red saree on her, how ironic.”

Dilip: “Yes, exactly.”

Kiru: Sneezes.

Anon Commenter 1: “That was cool.”

Anon Commenter 2: “Very cool machan.”

Anon Commenter 3: “I love the way you sneeze.”

Kiru: “Thanks. I will post pictures tomorrow.”

Rohan: “Ok, Let me break the ice by starting off with a joke. The license raj is a joke. Big Governement is a joke. God is a joke. Heh. That was three jokes in one.”

PrufrockTwo: “One gets the feeling one has heard this joke before..”

Dilip: “So what if he plagiarized a joke? It was a bad joke to start off with. Goverment is not funny business.”

BridalBeer: “The smell of thievery wafts in like a gentle breeze. Brian lacked chivalry. His shoelaces never stay tied.”

Nilu: “Puke.”

Jabberwock: Lifts head up from book, checks out crowd, and buries head back.

Chandrahas: “Time to end, I guess. This meet is almost as long as my posts.”

Amit: “Wait, I wanted to talk about why Big Government sucks. Maybe a few more minutes.”

J Alfred Prufrock: “A few more minutes is fine. I don’t know if I mentioned that I thought the coffee here is actually much better than the one I make…”

Amit: “I guess you were right, Hash. We should be leaving.”

As we walk out, I asked the anonymous blogger next to me who the gawkers at the next table were.

“Oh them? They are the Desipundit guys. They keep track of everything that happens in the blogosphere.”

“Ah!”

PS: In case you didn’t notice, this post is categorized under Humor. Heh.