MURPHY’S LAW- WHEN IN DOUBT, YOU’VE LEFT IT AT HOME!

Whatever can go wrong, will. Murphy’s Law, somehow, doesn’t seem to apply to people who are smart, ultra-efficient and organized, people who know where they want to go. It applies to the scatter-brained people; those who wake up, and discover that nothing they do today will cause their hair to behave. These are the people who help old ladies cross the street, but miss their tram to work; who take time to don good clothes for an interview and get splashed; who have a good laugh imitating their boss, only to discover him standing behind them.

I have been steam-rollered by Murphy my entire life. From missing flights, to finding myself about to be eaten by a croc, I have discovered Murphy riding on my shoulder. It’s as if he’s guiding you into more mischief. For all but a few of us, Murphy is non-existent. He preys more on the dreamers than the doers. Most doers are people who enjoy living their lives, and are subliminally confident that nothing can go wrong. They waltz through life, absolutely in-charge; tall, smart, arrogant, these are the CEO’s of the world.

And then there are those of us for whom life could not become any more accident-prone if it tried. We are the people who wear a zebra-patterned skirt to a disco, only to discover the dance floor has mixed UV rays falling on it, and glow-in-the-dark takes on a whole new meaning. And the ones who visit a friend for a day, and accidentally show the father that the friend smokes. We climb on trains without tickets, and the ticket collector always turns up to check out tickets. We never fall alone, only in front of twenty people. The elevator never stops when it is packed, but when one is in it alone; it decides to rest for a spell. Your deaf grandma never hears anything you say, but if it’s about her, she’s all ears.

In case you’re wondering if you’re a Murphy, don’t. Murphys always have a sixth sense that they are Murphys. But in case you don’t, then there are three ways to check it out. Ask yourself some questions. Has anyone poured orange juice on your new blue, silk tie? Have you ever had a ladder in your tights when you’re extremely late for that high-fly corporate meeting? Have you ever been in a situation where someone gave you tickets to your favourite piece of performance, but you miss it because you gave your taxi driver the wrong address slip, and didn’t realize it until you got there? How often do you step into a pile of dog shit? Does it rain when you’re wearing Suede? If it does, you’re a Murphy. Congratulations.

People like us, hence, tend to talk to Murphy when we’re alone, or in bed. We ask him, and beg him, not to make an appearance on the days when we have interviews, or exams. Who forgets their pencil on exam day? Who has his memory playing hide-and-seek then? Who does it rain on, when they’ve just done their hair? Whose shoe flies off and hits another? Who loses their glasses, when they’re atop his nose? Murphys’, of course.

When in Murphy land, do what the Murphys would do. RUN and get the Hell Out of There!