The Skeleton in the Closet | Selangor Times
Friday
26·05·2017
Issue 118

 

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The Skeleton in the Closet
Writer: Anusha Bai Paramasivan
Published: Fri, 21 Oct 2011

There’s a skeleton hiding in my closet. Then again, when you think about it, skeletons of all shapes and sizes have the tendency to hide in people’s closets – although I can assure you, if I placed a bet that no one’s skeleton would ever even remotely come close to mine, I’d win the bet hands down.

The only thing preventing me from winning the bet is that once won, the skeleton has to come out. That certainly seems to beat the purpose of having a skeleton in the closet in the first place. So, no. I’m not placing any wagers. The skeleton stays in the closet for as long as it possibly can!

As you can see, the skeleton is all I seem to be able to talk about these days. You could say that like most skeletons, it all began with a stupid idea, which seemed like The Greatest Idea on Earth at that time. They all start that way – a stupid bet, for instance:

“I bet you can’t hotwire that bright orange Myvi over there.”

“Oh really? Watch me.”

Next thing you know, you are branded a car thief, albeit the stupidest one that ever lived because you were caught. And that’s your skeleton right there. If it gets out, no one will want to have anything to do with you. Ever. True story? Not really – it’s perhaps closer to a bad example. But still.

This whole skeleton in the closet thing scares the hell out of me. People who still care – about three and a half of them altogether – have told me that I’m acting like a paranoid lunatic. But they don’t know what it’s like to live through each day fearing that your closet door might finally open at any given moment.

There’s a skeleton in my closet, and it’s like no other out there. Why? Because it is not your average reference to a bloody secret – it’s an actual skeleton.

Remember The Greatest Idea on Earth? I had one a long, long time ago, when I had single-handedly and secretly discovered a flawless and complete Neanderthal skeleton.

Greatest Idea on Earth #1: Let’s keep it. Don’t ask me how I pulled such a stunt off. Carting off an archaeological find halfway across some undisclosed location without ever being found out by the authorities was one thing; doing it without your colleagues knowing while fooling them into helping you had enough adventure in it to give Harry Potter and his friends a run for their money.

As if The Greatest Idea on Earth #1 was not enough, the mad scientist in me decided that is was appropriate to call upon The Greatest Idea on Earth #2. Can we resurrect a Neanderthal person from their complete bones?

Only one thing stood in my way of successfully pulling off the idea: osteoporosis. Don’t worry, I’m still youthful enough to escape it for the moment. Not the Neanderthal, though. His bones were insanely brittle.

In the name of science, I filled long, exciting nights tinkering with the bones, drawing inspiration from Mary Shelley and Dolly the Sheep, although she did die eventually.

When things didn’t progress, I sat up and watched Bride of Franknstein, wondering if my Neanderthal skeleton would someday want a bride himself, and where was I going to find one when the time arrived.

Now I have a skeleton in my closet and I think it’s alive. The small skin tissue sample on the back of its hand has started spreading around, slowly covering the fingers on one side, working its way up its right arm, skin as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

While it looked as though The Greatest Idea on Earth #2 was about to become a reality, the insane reality of the situation hit me. What on earth do you do with a Neanderthal after resurrecting one? And no, The Greatest Idea #3 – whatever it might be – did not arrive to rescue me from this predicament. In a state of panic, I picked up the bones and stuffed them in the closet, closing the door carefully and locking it up.

Curiosity drives me to check on the skeleton every single day. Some days, growth is pretty much stagnated; other days, it progresses rather well. This morning, I swear that the skull grinned at me like it had this big plan I was not privy to. I’m sure it’s up to no good. And I’m scared. Help!

 

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