The Day Raju tried to be smart

It was a regular Tuesday in Balanagar, which meant two things: the sun was melting people’s brains, and Raju had a new idea. That was dangerous.

Raju, who once tried to microwave ice to make it “hot water faster,” had decided he was now a genius. He wore his cousin’s old spectacles (no glass in them), carried a notebook labeled “Plans & Other Smartness,” and walked around saying things like, “Observe my intellectual aura.”

His best friends—Sweety, Bunty, and Chintu—were not impressed.

Sweety said, “You look like a rejected librarian.”
Bunty added, “Your aura smells like expired pickle.”
Chintu just nodded and whispered, “I fear for society.”

Raju’s big idea? He was going to invent a machine that could find lost slippers. Why? Because he kept losing his own every time he visited his grandma, who had a habit of throwing them at him when he said anything foolish. Which was often.

He built the machine using a broken fan, two spoons, a selfie stick, and one sock. It made a sound like a goat sneezing and spun in circles. When he turned it on, it chased Bunty’s dog for twenty minutes before collapsing in a puddle of rasam.

Raju declared, “It’s still in beta testing.”
Sweety replied, “It’s in beta embarrassment.”
Chintu clapped slowly and said, “Bravo. You’ve invented chaos.”

Later that day, Raju tried to prove his intelligence by solving a riddle.
“What has four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon, and three at night?”
He answered, “My uncle after biryani.”
Everyone stared.

Sweetywithout missing a beat—leaned in and said, “Raju, that riddle was about human evolution. Not your uncle’s post-biryani nap schedule.”
Raju blinked. “So... it’s not about digestion?”
Chintu sighed so loudly, a nearby crow flew away in fear.

They moved on to a new challenge: building a kite that could carry a phone. Bunty said it was for “aerial selfies.” Raju called it “sky surveillance.” Sweety called it “a guaranteed disaster.” Chintu just brought snacks and watched the chaos unfold like a live comedy show.

The kite was made from newspaper, two plastic hangers, and one of Raju’s old shirts that said “I’m the boss (of nothing).” They tied Bunty’s phone to it with dental floss. When they launched it, the kite flew for exactly three seconds before nose-diving into a pani puri cart.

The vendor screamed. Bunty screamed louder. Raju tried to negotiate using riddles.
“What flies but doesn’t have wings?” he asked.
The vendor replied, “Your common sense.”

They ran. Again.

Later, while licking melted kulfi off their fingers and nursing bruised egos, Raju tried to roast Chintu.

“You didn’t help at all!”
Chintu calmly replied, “I helped by not helping. That’s called damage control.”
Sweety snorted. Bunty clapped. Raju sulked and said, “Fine. Next time, I’ll do it alone.”
Chintu smiled. “Perfect. That way, only one person gets blamed.”

And so ended another day of giggles, roasts, and ridiculous plans. Raju still believed he was a genius. The others still believed he needed supervision. And the pani puri vendor now had a new sign:
“No flying phones. No flying friends. No flying nonsense.”