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“Oh, the fog was so heavy I couldn’t see my own ______ “. Words that could fill in the blank are toes, nose and other protruding body parts in between. Thus will the true Delhi-ite go about describing the weather event that descends on the city every year, usually the very morning he or she has a flight to catch. You can’t see anything, driving is dangerous, it’s bloody cold, there’s no sun and all the vitamin D that your pigments were going to synthesize has gone for a toss. You are late to work, your child is late to school, your dad is late to get up and take the dog out, your dog is late to get up and wake up your dad.
I mean, come on, let’s not crib endlessly about something that’s actually a good thing. The fog can be invoked to explain coming late to work, never mind the night before was spent partying hard and gulping down liquids of various hues and ethanol levels leading to a hangover of epic proportions. The fog is also your friend to let your dad know that the massive gash on the side of the car is all its doing. While, in fact, you got it when you couldn’t take your eyes off the PYT swishing by as you were reversing into a slot next to the trash truck.
In fact, if you could carry some fog with you, life could be so easy. Caco’s fog, ordered online, is just the thing for you.
You are interviewing for a job. You have this nervous twitch in your eyes that bugs you. It’s a dead give-away when you try to pull a fast one like, “yeah, Suhel Seth knows me”. Not that such a reference helps, but there is a lilt to his name that is fetching. So, what do you do? Just have a little fog sprayed from your used bottle of L-Áir du Temps, and lo, the twitch is safe behind a curtain of translucence.
Or, if you are surrounded by a bunch of jatland goons trying to strike up a conversation, doesn’t matter if you are male or female, just push a button that unleashes jets of dense fog from the vials strapped to your belt, and you can make a quick getaway, maybe at the RaGa escape velocity of Jupiter, while the chaps try to recall school-level physics.
Broccoli soup. That’s another dangerous thing. You have had two large bowls for lunch, what with all the delicious cream topping it. And you are sitting down with friends for some evening tea with quiche when the methane and hydrogen sulphide start tugging at you for some attention. No worries! Packaged fog to your rescue! Gently ease the computer-controlled dispenser and the fog, in a hue of healthy pink, imbued with the fragrance of chameli, swiftly neutralizes the errant release.
The girl of your dreams is running to board a flight to Mauritius. With a man. Not of your dreams. It’s not a SpiceJet flight. It’s not Kingfisher. Fat chance that the flight will not take off. Or that the pilot would report drunk. What do you do? What do you do???? Order a megabox of Caco’s fog online and it will be delivered to you in seconds. Unleash the raw power of the turbo-charged compressor that comes with it and the entire plane is covered by thick black fog. Like you see in all these movies with aliens and monsters and giants from other places. Funny how all these chaps have one upper lip and two laterally opening lower lips. And they never appear to have used a toothbrush. But I digress. The fog. The fog keeps the plane standing while you clear check-in, security and the long walk to the farthest gate in T3. You barge in. And the girl of your dreams introduces you to the man sitting next to her. Her brother. They are visiting their uncle. You will not get a refund from Caco’s online.
I got to go. Have to rush to the patent office. Just need some venture capital. Anybody with a million to spare? Or maybe two? When you come raging to my office to get it back, I will have my fog dispensers ready. Ciao!