Shutup and feed me!

4.30 p.m.

[Stomach rumbles. Sends a HUNGRY message to Brain ]
Brain: Didn't we like just have tea?
Stomach: All part of the forgotten past, my dear fellow. Wonder what we will have for snacks today.
B: [grinning evilly] Poha
S: Oh, shut up!
B: Upma
S: Cant you ever think positive?
B: Health foo..
S: No! Don't say it! Unless you want me to flood you with HUNGRY messages for the rest of the evening.
B: Alright, alright. I take it back.
S: [dreamily] I hope its bhel. Or pav bhaji. Or...
[Brain has moved on to more productive tasks]

4.50
[Stomach sends a TIME message to Brain which it passes on to Eye]
Eye: 4.50. Oh, this must be S asking.
B: Who else? Sigh, its goodbye to all work until it is filled. I'd better pass on your message before S interrupts me again.
[to S]
4.50.
S: What?? 10 whole minutes? And thats only if He (the cook) is on time! Oh, i don't think i can take it anymore.
B: [rolling eyes. Not Eyes] Do you want a toffee?
S: Oh, how heartlessly it mocks. No one understands my troubles. Not even Nose, which has to be fed every 6 seconds. It has the memory of a goldfish, really, takes in a lungful, promptly forgets about it and starts all over again! Disgraceful, i tell you, this dependence...
B: [who by now knows the routine well enough to have asked Nose whether it has inhaled any smells] Nose says it smells onions
S: Really?? [Does a little jig] That could mean Bhel! Oh please let that goldfish be right. please. I'll never ever call it a goldfish again! I'll... are we there yet?
B: [sighs] I'll ask around.
[to Eye]
One of you look at the clock, only the clock and nothing but the clock until further notice. Interrupt me with the time every minute. And the other, look out for tray carrying office boys. Only they can save us now.
[to Ear]
Open doors. The clank of plates. Until further notice, everything else is noise. And keep me posted.
[to Nose]
I don't care if you don't take in air, but take in the smell. And for God's sake, not everything smells like onion. You'll break the poor fellow's heart if it turns out to be Poha.

[For the next how-many-ever minutes, they are all professionals. Eye, knowing that it is no good at parallel processing, multi tasks between the clock and passer-bys. Every passer-by who is not a tray carrying office boy gets the look. The look is the look that a drowning man would give a log that turns out to be a straw. Nose does not forget to breathe, but it analyzes every breath for clues. Ear hears every creak of the door, every footstep that follows, every hint of a clank. Brain is so busy with I/O, it has suspended all processing. Evolution never seems to have heard of DMA]

5.10
E: I spy an office boy! With a traaaaaaaaay!
B: Its here!! Stop rumbling, you idiot!
S: [with a weak smile] Cant believe i made it. Couldn't have done it with you, guys.
Eye, Ear, Nose, Brain: Awwww.
S: Shutup and feed me!