Going Nowhere Just For Show

Once upon a time, there was a lot of rain. It rained so much, nobody could ignore it. Sonali couldn't ignore it. Buvana couldn't ignore it. Buvana's kitten, Percival, couldn't ignore it and mewed like anything.

So, Buvana and Sonali decided to do something about it. "Let's do something about this," they decided. They sallied forth, wearing plastic shoes, which were supposed to be rain-proof. But as they waded in the puddles, they felt their feet get wet. "These plastic shoes aren't rain-proof at all," Buvana mumbled. "Never mind," Sonali comforted her. "We'll warm ourselves with the space heater as soon as we can." Buvana cheered up. "Singin' in the rain," both of them belted out lustily, off-key.

By the time they remembered they had an umbrella, both of them were wet through anyway. "It doesn't matter," Buvana said, cheerfully. An itinerant fortune teller was walking just past them at that very instant. "But I think it does matter, my dear. I predict you're going to get wetter still, if you continue walking in this rain without an umbrella."

Sonali was impressed. "What perception!" she gasped. "Predict something else, please, itinerant fortune teller!"

"My dear, my dear," the itinerant fortune teller said. "It is so tiring to predict things. It takes all the energy out of me."

So, they went to a nearby cafe and Sonali and Buvana treated the itinerant fortune teller to a vegetable puff and two cups of strong coffee. "Now," he said, downing the last of the coffee and smacking his lips. "I predict that if you write the word abalone, you'll begin and end with a vowel."

Sonali borrowed a piece of paper and a pencil from the cashier and tried it out. It worked. When she wrote abalone, it DID, indeed, begin and end with a vowel. She decided to ask the itinerant fortune teller a more pressing question. "When I iron my shirts, the collars don't stay down," she ventured. "When will they ever stay down?"

"That's indeed a pressing question, my dear," the itinerant fortune teller replied. "The shirt collars will stay down when plastic shoes are truly rain-proof and space heaters truly warm the tingles in your toes."

"What about my kitten, Percival?" Buvana piped up.

"Your kitten Percival will be your mews forever," the itinerant fortune teller said. "You'll write pawetry about him. You'll immortalise him in many tails, short and long. You'll pour out your felines on paper, and get everyone emotional. You'll soon be playing cat-and-mouse with great fame, my dear."

Buvana was thrilled. "I don't need a space heater," she said. "I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy already."

"That's the coffee," Sonali said. "It has nothing to do with this itinerant fortune teller's predictions about Percival."

"Don't be so cynical," Buvana said. "Just because your shirt collars are still creating ripples and my kitten is going to be the stuff of prose and poetry."

Sonali knew she was being silly. "It's raining," she said. "Why aren't we using the umbrella?"

So the two friends said goodbye to the itinerant fortune teller, huddled under the umbrella, and toodled off for home.