FARMERS' SUICIDE, IT'S NOT COOL

• I got up feeling sweaty. Must have been 34 degrees Celsius yesterday. Hot. Inside bathroom. It’s sauna. Impossible. Must find a small AC for my small bathroom. What is the world coming to when a man has to wilt like a plant. In Chennai, we must have only house cooling instead of house warming ceremony.
• I look outside and wince. It’s like Sahara. And it’s only early summer.
• Noon. I switch on the AC and go to sleep. Feel like I am in heaven. Dream of water in all forms… waterfalls, oceans, lakes, ponds, rain, and bottles of cool water.
• Now it’s time to go to office. Outside is hell, burning and tar is bubbling on the road.
  Reach office. It’s an ordeal, I tell you. Now I am inside. Ah! here they have centralised AC. Must find whether they can AC the bus. Lalu Prasad said he would AC the local trains. Good man he is.
• Now it’s cool. Work goes on at the newsdesk. Lots of shouting and instructions. Take this, take that.
• Hey. Somebody call maintenance and ask them to step up the AC, they want us to fry here?
• What story to take, asks someone. Try that farmers’ suicide, some damned place in Andhra or Maharashtra. Try. If you can’t fit it in see if Shilpa and Gere kissing thing will fit. Good news and picture too.
• What the hell I have to call home and ask them to put on the AC. Don’t have an AC car. Must have my room cool when I go home.
  Hey, that farmers thing is not fitting, Shilpa is fine.
  Go ahead, do it. Have to rush home. Don’t bother about the farmer thing. Go.