Life's a Yawn...or is it?

Light years back, I had read in one of the general knowledge books (the kind that has pictures of the Dalai Lama and Merilyn Munroe together in the 'Fun with Pictures' section) that yawning is contagious.

On a drizzly August morning, I decided to add some colour to my life and try out this piece of lesson learnt…in one of the most unsuspecting of places…The London tube.

If you ever board a London tube during rush hour, you possibly cannot miss the archetypal Brit. Proud to the tip of his gelled hair a la David Beckham, he’ll be a picture of stiff composure in a grey Reid and Taylor. Juggling a copy of The Times (casually folded) and a Prêt A Manger cappuccino, on most occasions, he’ll look through you as if you were a glass door. Even if he bumps into you for lack of city space, he’ll usually say a crisp ‘sorry’ and not twitch an extra muscle (for fear of getting a ticket?). To my incredible prankster-luck, all my co-passengers were such archetypes.

So I started…one ugly yawn (showing off my tonsils…at my uncouth Indian best) and then carefully stifled another. Soon the whole bunch had their jaws aching. Life’s such a drag otherwise. You need to add some jazz to it occasionally, don’t you?

Lesson learnt: Approaching thirty at breakneck speed doesn’t stop the prankster in me. Is that a pity? At the cost of getting arrested for creating public nuisance, let me put it in print…I couldn’t care less.