Saaminathan Street was a drowsy street. People were either sleeping or watching TV; they would seldom venture out of their comfort zone. Like every other area, this street also faced a two hour power cut, and on the morning of January 1 when the residents opened their newspaper they found out that the power cuts would get extended by two more hours.
Every house on the street panicked. Maami A called out to her fellow serial watchers and ranted till no end. Unemployed boy C called up his friend (waiting for call letter from Company X) and cried, no more Jack Black movies machan; girl-next-door Q marched up to busy bee M and complained that her quota of re watching Grey's Anatomy would stop. Basically Saaminathan Street was ruffled up. Also the street was named that way because the painter had misspelt Swaminathan.
Getting back to the story, residents of Saaminathan Street were waiting for 12 am. And it did come. but wonders of wonders there was no power cut. Maamis, boys and girls-next-door rejoiced. Maamas were carefully scrutinizing the situation. And then they realised, the state cable company had its premises on their street.
"Naalai thodarum" said the text on the screen, maami A switched off the TV and went to sleep.
Usually a story has a definite
subject and the readers should see it going "somewhere". However, this
story is the exact opposite. I'm just writing to get laziness out of my
system. Feel free to criticize.