Nonetheless, I couldn’t wait to test it. It is vital to stress the word ‘wait’ here because an itch never shows up when you really need one. In the meantime, I had several minor itches around my neck and scalp that were easily accessible by my own fingers without much fanfare. But the highly anticipated Richter 8.5 on my back was still in adjournment. I had reached the state of Nirvana when I finally sensed that familiar tingling lodged somewhere between the Teres Major and the Teres Minor muscles on my back. I quickly adorned myself with my handy-dandy T-shirt and subpoenaed my husband. He was elated when he saw all those coordinates begging to be connected into waveforms.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he said.

“Me too,” I said, enthusiastically.

…………..A long pause followed……………

That’s when I realized that I could not guide him without looking at the grid on my back! So, the troupe headed towards the large bathroom mirror. It was a no-brainer that I needed to turn my back to the large mirror and use a second mirror to view the grid. So I went rummaging for a large mirror, but all I could find was a smaller oval one.

However, unforeseen events were about to line up! The massive mirror on the wall was separated by a large sink in between. That was 2 feet of separation between a provoking itch and a monumental scratch! All this time, two bespectacled eyes were following my quandary with perplexed patience. My husband is shortsighted, but I am far-sighted and proud of it. I was bent on putting the T through the test.

“Okay, let’s begin,” I announced with a flourish. “Let’s see…!” I was peering and peeking into the little oval mirror with a twitch on my nose and a frown on my eyebrows. Nope…couldn’t see a thing!

The dull #2 pencil sketch + 2 feet between large mirror and my back + 12 inches between oval mirror and my dilated eyeballs, all equaled searching for a faint Ursa Minor on a cloudy sky!

My husband, The Savior, understood my problem and said, “Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start. When I scratch, I begin with A1!”

“Now we are singing,” I exclaimed. “At least I know where A1 is! From A1, jump straight to…unh….wait! How many characters do I have back there?” I had forgotten to keep count.

“What characters? Alphabets or numbers?” The computer nerd’s brain kicked into full gear!

“Both,” I said, impatiently.

“There are 10 numbers on Y-Axis and 10 alphabets on X-Axis.” He was simply trying to make it harder.

“10 alphabets add up to…” It was easier to count than ask at this point. “A B C D……H……J….got it! You may go directly to H4 and wait there for further instructions,” I said, feeling relieved that the car was beginning to head somewhere!

“4.0 or 4.5? These are large squares.” Exactitude was his attitude.

“Doesn’t matter, just proceed,” I said with some indignation.

The finger proceeded and dutifully stalled at destination H4.

Here, I encountered a new navigational problem. The oval mirror was adding 25 percent more errors to my mathematical calculations due to parallax and quivering hands.

“Go right a little,” I instructed.

“How many centimeters in one little,” quizzed my husband. That’s one of his favorite general knowledge questions.

I had a better question!

“What do IITs* produce?”

My interpretation of this Chindogu tool had a grave design flaw! Upon reexamination of the instructions in the book, I discovered the missing component. The Back Scratcher T-Shirt had an additional gizmo called ‘The miniature corresponding hand-held grid-map’ to help with communicating accurate coordinates!

No wonder we were struggling! In a jiffy, I reproduced the miniature corresponding hand-held grid-map on a white cardboard. I was confident that locating the cutaneous sensation was going to be a cinch with the inch-sized replica in my hand.

To my utter amazement and dismay, I noticed my own finger starting to make uncontrolled left and right turns on the cardboard with no particular destination in sight! Even though, the itch was still ensconced in the same place on my back, the entire communication system in between was broken. It seemed like a colossal telecommunications repair project, the likes of which only NASA could have undertaken.

1. The itch on my back was not communicating its exact coordinates to my brain.
2. My brain was unable to relay any message to my eyes.
3. My eyeballs could not locate the same points on my hand-held grid.
4. My finger was therefore loitering on the card.
5. Finally, my husband stood there with his lone finger awaiting orders to deliver the scratch.

In one last desperate attempt, I disowned Chindogu and decided to twitch instead! I twitched my back recklessly until that itch had nowhere to hide! The relentless twitching between the two Teres muscles and the cotton T-Shirt caused enormous friction, which finally dislodged and dissolved the irksome itch!

I walked away with a smile, leaving my designated scratcher twitching for answers. When I looked back, his persnickety finger had just been reassigned to locate another baffling itch on an area that is too inflexible to twitch!

 

Cartoon By Ranjini Sharma

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To visit my other Chindogu art creations, please click here–

“My Museum Of Digital Art”.

Chindogu: The book is titled “101 Un-useless Japanese Inventions” by Kenji Kawakami. The Japanese word Chindogu literally means an odd or distorted tool. It’s a collection of real inventions made with the best of intentions and with great skill. But because of their utter failure, they never were patented and can never be patented or sold. They are not inventions that were made to look funny or to fail, but due to their oddity or sheer stupidity, they ended up in the collection of Un-useless inventions.

IIT: Indian Institute of Technology