Our European Communications Head is a formidable Englishwoman called Mary (not real name). Impeccable English, stiff upper lip and aristocratic family to boot, the only Indian she likes is me. In fact the only non English person she likes in this whole world is me.
Whenever she calls for a conference call, the agenda and timing will be crisply laid out in the email and she doesn’t tolerate anyone joining the call late. If someone is late she just reschedules the call, after a few impeccably tailored barbs at the late comers that have made many a late joiner attempt suicide in sheer humiliation.
Into this picture comes Avarachan (not his real name), a sales executive, who was scheduled to join me and Mary in the call to discuss some global collateral his boss wanted made. Just before the call, Avarachan developed diarrhea and had to rush to the toilet. Mary started the call and decided to continue when I messaged her over instant messenger (IM) about Avarachan's plight. Mary may be a stickler to schedules but she is a kind person who understands such “emergencies”.
Minutes later Avarachan joined the call panting as he had come running all the way from the toilet. He decided to apologize to Mary over IM.
Avarachan: Good afternoon Madam, I am sorry for joining in the call so late.
Mary: No problem John.
Avarachan: Thank you Madam. I ate something that did not agree with me.
Mary: Ok! Let me conduct the call now.
Avarachan: I think it was the mutton. It was a bit off.
Mary: *Ignores him*
Avarachan: Have you ever had Mutton Biryani?
Very nice at Andhra Palace near our office.
It could have been the Paneer too though.
Or the heat.
Yes, it must be the heat that gave me indigestion!!!!
I have a delicate stomach like you English people heh heh
Mary: John, please join in the call.
Avarachan: I am in the call only. Anjali will speak on my behalf.
The raita was also stinking. Must be bad curds. But bad curds don’t give you stomach upset no? What do you think?
Mary: No idea! I....
Avarachan: ...do you British people eat curds? We call it moru in Malayalam and Dahi in Hindi.
Mary: I am sorry; I do not have time to chat.
Avarachan: No problem, you keep talking!
Mary: !!!!!!
Avarachan: You married? How many kids?
I have three. All boys. Naughty fellows heh heh
Elder fellow is just like me. He gets stomach upset very quickly! When we went to Malayatoor last year, he was having full stomach upset after eating some Ice Cream!
Mary: Bleddy hell!
Avarachan: So what does your husband do? My wife is housewife only.
If you come to India, I take you to Hyderabad Delight. You must taste the Biryani there.
Mary: *groan*
Avarachan: Don’t worry; I will see to that you don’t get stomach upset. I know all the good restaurants here.
Mary: Anjali could you please tell John to stop messaging me!
Avarachan: Btw you know any good home remedies for stomach upset? I think I need to go to the toilet again! These allopathic medicines are so...
Mary: *SLAM!!!!*
According to Mary’s colleagues who sit next to her, she was seen rushing to the toilet to throw up. The call was rescheduled and Avarachan attended it in time this time.
People in the office are not convinced though. They are sure that like every cunning mallu, Avarachan deliberately got it postponed so he can join in time, the second time around. No one knows for sure, but Avarachan is keen to chat with her again. I told him that British people do not like to chat. Avarachan was disappointed but has decided to honor the ‘custom’.
When Mary heard this news from me, her colleagues report that this normally taciturn lady jumped up in the air, let out a whoop and danced around the office in sheer joy shouting "hurrah!!'.
Showing posts with label DesiPundit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DesiPundit. Show all posts
Monday, April 12, 2010
Monday, March 01, 2010
While I was sleeping
Warning: Long post
“You know what Anjali…” said a pro blogger amongst my colleagues. “ I am turning 25 this year and that scares me.”
“Why should a birthday scare you?” I asked tactlessly.
“Arey, I am 25, with no life and no clue where my life is headed!” he exclaimed mournfully.
“So why are you telling me this? What can I do yaar.” I replied trying to read the magazine that I was trying to read since he plonked himself next to me.
“You are a happy go lucky girl yaar. No care in the world. I talk to you in the hope that some of that happiness rubs off on me too.” He said with a woebegone face.
“Look, I do not posses any magic mantra to be happy.I just don’t sit and moan like you all at everything and anything. You either pick up happiness or sadness. The choice is yours.” I looked at him briefly. “Anyway what is bothering you? You have a good job, nice folks, and a home of your own….”
“There are parts of my life that are exciting. Very exciting.” He said smiling goofily.
“And what are they, pray tell me. When you go out to have a cigarette?” I asked sarcastically.
“ No!” he said shaking his head vigorously. “Having a cigarette is great but there are other things too.”
I looked at him in disbelief!
“Today I was reading about Domain Authority & Page Authority Metrics at this Search Engine Optimization (SEO) blog.” He said animatedly. “And the site had a very exciting feature….” He finished breathlessly.
“And what was that err feature?” I asked uninterested.
“A NEW LINK CHECKER AND BACKLINK ANALYSIS TOOL!!!!!!!!!” he shouted scaring me out of my wits.
“Err that sounds umm nice.” I said, looking desperately around for an excuse to escape.
“And tomorrow..” he continued animatedly “we are having a small blogger meet up to discuss metrics that gives us insight and intelligence on blog , domains, and link profiles, as well as why these metrics can be a better predictor of ranking success than others that may have been used in the past!!” he finished panting breathlessly.
He looked at me his eyes shining ,“You wanna join us?”
“Nooooooooo!!! I mean I think I have something planned for tomorrow evening.” I said desperately.
“Anyway Arnab (not his real name)” I said evasively, trying to change the boring topic. “What do you after you go home from office?”
“I like to read” he said.
“What do you like to read?” I asked kindly.
“Well…” he said his eyes far away. “Right now I am reading ‘Do E-books Create Personal Brands’.”
I nearly fell off the chair in shock.
“What!!! I mean how interesting” I said recovering quickly and trying not to show my disgust. “Why don’t you read something light like ‘Dear John’ by Nicholas Sparks. I can lend it to you if you want.
“Arey Anjali, do you want to kill my brain cells? Who reads such trash!!” he said scornfully.
“I do” said I trying not to slap him.
“Haha yaar. Mazaak mat kar. You seriously read such books? You need a life, fast.” he said chuckling and shaking his head.
“I thought we were discussing “your” lack of life vis a vis mine.” I said barely able to control my temper.
“You are right yaar. Thanks for reminding me. Anyway don’t tell me to read such book please.” he pleaded.
“Very well Arnab. Let’s look at “other” ways to make your life interesting.” I said resignedly. “You have a girlfriend?” I asked.
“I had.” he said briefly.
“What happened?” I ask trying not to appear too nosey.
“Hamare vichaar alag the. She and I were poles apart.” He said moodily.
“Could you please elaborate?” I asked knowing full well what was to come.
“Well…we never agreed on anything. I mean she wanted to go to the movies, I preferred to watch a podcast. Then, she liked to go for long walks while I preferred to use that time for recording a Podcast. They have such interesting topics! Have you seen Livestream? Amazing site for Live Streaming.” He finished looking really excited.
“Jesus Christ!’ I swore. “You need a complete alteration of your life man. Or we will have a holiday the day after you swing from the fan!!”
“Arey, suicide tho cowards karthe hain. I have too much to live for.” He said dreamily.
“Like?” I asked, regretting that question for the rest of my life.
I dunno what happened after that. But I went into a deep slumber and dreamt of being chased by……auto generated text, Google analytics, linkscape index SEO best practices, HTTP status codes, affiliate sites and some other horrible stuff.
Someone shook me awake. It was Foxy. Arnab was nowhere to be seen.
“What are you sleeping here for?” he asked “And what was that Arnab talking to you while you slept?”
“How long have I been sleeping!” I asked drowsily. “Over half an hour” said Foxy.
“Where is Arnab?” I asked not particularly interested in knowing his whereabouts.
“He said something about getting some printouts for you and left” said Foxy. “Apparently you said that you would be interested in attending this SEO conference in Delhi.
“What!!!” I sat up bolt upright. “I said what??” I repeated stupidly.
“Ha ha Anjali. If I were you I would start packing. And don’t forget to take “Dummies guide to Pro Blogging.” chuckled Foxy.
“Why” I asked stupidly.
“Because you agreed to give a talk about your experience of going pro!” said Foxy laughing hysterically.
I am on indefinite leave from today.
“You know what Anjali…” said a pro blogger amongst my colleagues. “ I am turning 25 this year and that scares me.”
“Why should a birthday scare you?” I asked tactlessly.
“Arey, I am 25, with no life and no clue where my life is headed!” he exclaimed mournfully.
“So why are you telling me this? What can I do yaar.” I replied trying to read the magazine that I was trying to read since he plonked himself next to me.
“You are a happy go lucky girl yaar. No care in the world. I talk to you in the hope that some of that happiness rubs off on me too.” He said with a woebegone face.
“Look, I do not posses any magic mantra to be happy.I just don’t sit and moan like you all at everything and anything. You either pick up happiness or sadness. The choice is yours.” I looked at him briefly. “Anyway what is bothering you? You have a good job, nice folks, and a home of your own….”
“There are parts of my life that are exciting. Very exciting.” He said smiling goofily.
“And what are they, pray tell me. When you go out to have a cigarette?” I asked sarcastically.
“ No!” he said shaking his head vigorously. “Having a cigarette is great but there are other things too.”
I looked at him in disbelief!
“Today I was reading about Domain Authority & Page Authority Metrics at this Search Engine Optimization (SEO) blog.” He said animatedly. “And the site had a very exciting feature….” He finished breathlessly.
“And what was that err feature?” I asked uninterested.
“A NEW LINK CHECKER AND BACKLINK ANALYSIS TOOL!!!!!!!!!” he shouted scaring me out of my wits.
“Err that sounds umm nice.” I said, looking desperately around for an excuse to escape.
“And tomorrow..” he continued animatedly “we are having a small blogger meet up to discuss metrics that gives us insight and intelligence on blog , domains, and link profiles, as well as why these metrics can be a better predictor of ranking success than others that may have been used in the past!!” he finished panting breathlessly.
He looked at me his eyes shining ,“You wanna join us?”
“Nooooooooo!!! I mean I think I have something planned for tomorrow evening.” I said desperately.
“Anyway Arnab (not his real name)” I said evasively, trying to change the boring topic. “What do you after you go home from office?”
“I like to read” he said.
“What do you like to read?” I asked kindly.
“Well…” he said his eyes far away. “Right now I am reading ‘Do E-books Create Personal Brands’.”
I nearly fell off the chair in shock.
“What!!! I mean how interesting” I said recovering quickly and trying not to show my disgust. “Why don’t you read something light like ‘Dear John’ by Nicholas Sparks. I can lend it to you if you want.
“Arey Anjali, do you want to kill my brain cells? Who reads such trash!!” he said scornfully.
“I do” said I trying not to slap him.
“Haha yaar. Mazaak mat kar. You seriously read such books? You need a life, fast.” he said chuckling and shaking his head.
“I thought we were discussing “your” lack of life vis a vis mine.” I said barely able to control my temper.
“You are right yaar. Thanks for reminding me. Anyway don’t tell me to read such book please.” he pleaded.
“Very well Arnab. Let’s look at “other” ways to make your life interesting.” I said resignedly. “You have a girlfriend?” I asked.
“I had.” he said briefly.
“What happened?” I ask trying not to appear too nosey.
“Hamare vichaar alag the. She and I were poles apart.” He said moodily.
“Could you please elaborate?” I asked knowing full well what was to come.
“Well…we never agreed on anything. I mean she wanted to go to the movies, I preferred to watch a podcast. Then, she liked to go for long walks while I preferred to use that time for recording a Podcast. They have such interesting topics! Have you seen Livestream? Amazing site for Live Streaming.” He finished looking really excited.
“Jesus Christ!’ I swore. “You need a complete alteration of your life man. Or we will have a holiday the day after you swing from the fan!!”
“Arey, suicide tho cowards karthe hain. I have too much to live for.” He said dreamily.
“Like?” I asked, regretting that question for the rest of my life.
I dunno what happened after that. But I went into a deep slumber and dreamt of being chased by……auto generated text, Google analytics, linkscape index SEO best practices, HTTP status codes, affiliate sites and some other horrible stuff.
Someone shook me awake. It was Foxy. Arnab was nowhere to be seen.
“What are you sleeping here for?” he asked “And what was that Arnab talking to you while you slept?”
“How long have I been sleeping!” I asked drowsily. “Over half an hour” said Foxy.
“Where is Arnab?” I asked not particularly interested in knowing his whereabouts.
“He said something about getting some printouts for you and left” said Foxy. “Apparently you said that you would be interested in attending this SEO conference in Delhi.
“What!!!” I sat up bolt upright. “I said what??” I repeated stupidly.
“Ha ha Anjali. If I were you I would start packing. And don’t forget to take “Dummies guide to Pro Blogging.” chuckled Foxy.
“Why” I asked stupidly.
“Because you agreed to give a talk about your experience of going pro!” said Foxy laughing hysterically.
I am on indefinite leave from today.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Tiger love
Alarmed by the rapid decline in the Tiger population in our country, the Indian government decides to send a Minister to China, the largest consumer of Tiger meat. According to reports, not a single part of the Tiger is wasted in China. The Indian Minister (IM) and his Aide are given a warm welcome in China and the Chinese Premier (CP) meets him in his office the next day.
CP (bowing): Welcome to the most glorious, democratic, progressive, shining and the most rapidly developing country in the world.
IM: Thank you for the lengthy err warm welcome Premier. I am delighted to be in your beautiful country and honored by your graciousness to give me an audience.
CP (bowing again): Thank you! We will start our meeting with some Chinese delicacies. I hope you like it.
IM: Chinese cuisine is our national cuisine heh heh.
CP: Then you will like this special soup.
IM: What soup is this?
CP (beaming): Tigers tail soup!
IM: What!!!! Err I mean thank you. It is err delicious ewww.
CP (proudly): I knew you will like it. And now tell me honorable minster, what brings you to our happy country.
IM: Well… it’s like this. As you may know the Tiger is our national animal…
CP: But of course. We love the Indian Tiger.
IM (hopefully): You do?? That’s a relief to hear. I am here to discuss about the Tiger.
CP (holding his palm up). Wait, first you must taste this signature dish. It was made in memory of the late revolutionary Pin Wung Wao.
IM (nervously) : I am afraid to ask what it is.
CP: Tiger rib stir fry!!! C’mon try it!!
IM (mournfully): Well I might as well try it…Sigh.
CP: You were saying something about the Tiger.
IM (brightening up): Yes! We Indians love our national animal and now want to do something concrete for its welfare.
CP: That is nice. We in China welcome such a move.
IM: You do? That is very heartening news indeed!!
CP: We Chinese men get our ahem “drive” from Tiger testicle soup you know *wink* *wink*
IP: Heh heh I know. *sob*
CP: We would hate to lose that hahahahaha!
IM(desperately): I need some water.
CP: No no no!!! That will spoil your appetite!
IM: For what? Wait, why am I asking this question. :(
CP: For Tiger Manchurian in hot garlic sauce!!
IM: *sob* Is there anything else for Lunch?
CP: Of course. There is Tiger head schezwan, Tiger belly Cantonese, Tiger lung wung pao, Tiger neck stew and……
IM (looking green): I am not feeling too well….
CP: ...and Tiger paw fried, Hunan style.
IM (fainting): *swoon* *thud*
CP : Get some Chinese smelling salts quick!
Aide (sarcastically): Thank god you people spare the Tiger’s feces.
CP (proudly): We use it too! It is called Chinese Smelling Salts.
IM (sitting up bolt upright): I am suddenly feeling better. I think I need to lie down…in my bed at home in New Delhi.
CP: Wait!!
IM (wild eyed): Now what!!
CP (smiling gently): You cannot leave without a souvenir!!!
IM (miserably): I will not ask what it is.
CP: We have a Tiger nail locket and a Tiger Skin coat made especially for you.
IM: I shall not faint. I shall not faint. I shall not faint.
Aide: You better not! *snicker*
IM (faintly): Thank you Premier. This has been a most fruitful discussion. Bye!
According to a Press Release by the Foreign Ministry, the talks failed due to "miss-communication". The next round of talks will be held in Chinese.
Have a nice week folks! An enjoy da music - Fireflies
CP (bowing): Welcome to the most glorious, democratic, progressive, shining and the most rapidly developing country in the world.
IM: Thank you for the lengthy err warm welcome Premier. I am delighted to be in your beautiful country and honored by your graciousness to give me an audience.
CP (bowing again): Thank you! We will start our meeting with some Chinese delicacies. I hope you like it.
IM: Chinese cuisine is our national cuisine heh heh.
CP: Then you will like this special soup.
IM: What soup is this?
CP (beaming): Tigers tail soup!
IM: What!!!! Err I mean thank you. It is err delicious ewww.
CP (proudly): I knew you will like it. And now tell me honorable minster, what brings you to our happy country.
IM: Well… it’s like this. As you may know the Tiger is our national animal…
CP: But of course. We love the Indian Tiger.
IM (hopefully): You do?? That’s a relief to hear. I am here to discuss about the Tiger.
CP (holding his palm up). Wait, first you must taste this signature dish. It was made in memory of the late revolutionary Pin Wung Wao.
IM (nervously) : I am afraid to ask what it is.
CP: Tiger rib stir fry!!! C’mon try it!!
IM (mournfully): Well I might as well try it…Sigh.
CP: You were saying something about the Tiger.
IM (brightening up): Yes! We Indians love our national animal and now want to do something concrete for its welfare.
CP: That is nice. We in China welcome such a move.
IM: You do? That is very heartening news indeed!!
CP: We Chinese men get our ahem “drive” from Tiger testicle soup you know *wink* *wink*
IP: Heh heh I know. *sob*
CP: We would hate to lose that hahahahaha!
IM(desperately): I need some water.
CP: No no no!!! That will spoil your appetite!
IM: For what? Wait, why am I asking this question. :(
CP: For Tiger Manchurian in hot garlic sauce!!
IM: *sob* Is there anything else for Lunch?
CP: Of course. There is Tiger head schezwan, Tiger belly Cantonese, Tiger lung wung pao, Tiger neck stew and……
IM (looking green): I am not feeling too well….
CP: ...and Tiger paw fried, Hunan style.
IM (fainting): *swoon* *thud*
CP : Get some Chinese smelling salts quick!
Aide (sarcastically): Thank god you people spare the Tiger’s feces.
CP (proudly): We use it too! It is called Chinese Smelling Salts.
IM (sitting up bolt upright): I am suddenly feeling better. I think I need to lie down…in my bed at home in New Delhi.
CP: Wait!!
IM (wild eyed): Now what!!
CP (smiling gently): You cannot leave without a souvenir!!!
IM (miserably): I will not ask what it is.
CP: We have a Tiger nail locket and a Tiger Skin coat made especially for you.
IM: I shall not faint. I shall not faint. I shall not faint.
Aide: You better not! *snicker*
IM (faintly): Thank you Premier. This has been a most fruitful discussion. Bye!
According to a Press Release by the Foreign Ministry, the talks failed due to "miss-communication". The next round of talks will be held in Chinese.
Have a nice week folks! An enjoy da music - Fireflies
Monday, February 01, 2010
Brotherhood lurve
My mom was watching a cookery programme with great interest yesterday.
“Anju come here, see this” she said with a look that means she has spotted something interesting.
I wandered over to the sofa where she was sitting and saw a Chef teaching a young guy to cook on the television.
“He is teaching that guy to cook so that he can prepare a meal for his brother on his birthday!’ she gushed.
“What’s the big deal ma!” I said getting up.
‘Sit down!” she said pulling me down to the sofa. “He is making salads. You like salad recipes no?”
I sat and watched as the Chef prepared some mouth watering salads and salad dressings and laid them out in pretty dining ware.
He then looked at the camera and said “And now we will let Paul invite John for lunch.” Shaking Paul’s hand and bidding him goodbye the Chef walks away. The camera pans to the door and ‘John' walks in. My eyes pop out. He is white. Paul is American Chinese.
“So sweeet!” cooed my mom smiling indulgently at the TV, head tilted to one side.
“Err ma” I said quickly. "I think something is burning in the kitchen!"
“Tch tch” said my mom, getting up and hurrying towards the kitchen. Splits seconds later, below the picture of John and Paul came the legend. John and Paul, Life Partners.
By the time mom came back from the kitchen, they had finished looking dreamily into each others eyes while battling the desire to make wild passionate love.
“What did I miss?” asked my mom.
“Oh nothing” I said dismissively, trying not to show the utter relief on my face. “He surprised his "brother" with the lunch.” I said avoiding her eyes.
“Awwwww” said my mom again, totally bowled over by the scene.
"Ewwww" went I, in my mind totally nauseated by the scene.
I left her gushing at the TV...when the program ended.
That was a close call! *phew*
There should be some control over what is shown on televisions these days. We cannot let our parents watch such shows unsupervised!! It will corrupt their tender old minds! What if I wasn’t around? I demand some answers from the government as a concerned child, NOW!
“Anju come here, see this” she said with a look that means she has spotted something interesting.
I wandered over to the sofa where she was sitting and saw a Chef teaching a young guy to cook on the television.
“He is teaching that guy to cook so that he can prepare a meal for his brother on his birthday!’ she gushed.
“What’s the big deal ma!” I said getting up.
‘Sit down!” she said pulling me down to the sofa. “He is making salads. You like salad recipes no?”
I sat and watched as the Chef prepared some mouth watering salads and salad dressings and laid them out in pretty dining ware.
He then looked at the camera and said “And now we will let Paul invite John for lunch.” Shaking Paul’s hand and bidding him goodbye the Chef walks away. The camera pans to the door and ‘John' walks in. My eyes pop out. He is white. Paul is American Chinese.
“So sweeet!” cooed my mom smiling indulgently at the TV, head tilted to one side.
“Err ma” I said quickly. "I think something is burning in the kitchen!"
“Tch tch” said my mom, getting up and hurrying towards the kitchen. Splits seconds later, below the picture of John and Paul came the legend. John and Paul, Life Partners.
By the time mom came back from the kitchen, they had finished looking dreamily into each others eyes while battling the desire to make wild passionate love.
“What did I miss?” asked my mom.
“Oh nothing” I said dismissively, trying not to show the utter relief on my face. “He surprised his "brother" with the lunch.” I said avoiding her eyes.
“Awwwww” said my mom again, totally bowled over by the scene.
"Ewwww" went I, in my mind totally nauseated by the scene.
I left her gushing at the TV...when the program ended.
That was a close call! *phew*
There should be some control over what is shown on televisions these days. We cannot let our parents watch such shows unsupervised!! It will corrupt their tender old minds! What if I wasn’t around? I demand some answers from the government as a concerned child, NOW!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Christmas in Achayanland!
Its Christmas time dearies. The hills and rubber estates are alive with the sound of chopping, cutting, whisking, tasting, cursing and vice versa, plus the aromas of much cooking happening. Achayanland is a very happening place now! You have to just walk by homes to predict exactly what they are going to have for Christmas lunch.
Susan: Gasp, the Pallikunnels are having Pepper Liver Fry for Christmas lunch!
Mother in law: #$#%@% didn’t I tell you to buy liver you %$#@ woman!!!
Susan: *Sob* I am going to the market right now ammachi!
Markets are groaning under the invasion of ladies who have just discovered what their neighbors are making for Christmas.
Mary: Hello Jincy, What brings you to the market today?
Jincy: Chumma, I just came for a breath of fresh air.
Mary (covering her nose to avoid the horrible stench of the fish market): Me too!
Jincy: I see that you have bought Quails!
Mary: Damn!!! Err… yes and those Prawns in your bag look very fresh!
Jincy: Damn! I should have covered them, I mean yes, and they are very fresh, but you never know. It may be rotten also!
Mary: Sure, sure and that is why you bought them I suppose. To help the poor fish fellow get rid of the rotten Prawns.
Jincy (sarcastically): Yes, it is Christmas no! Time to help our fellow human beings!
Mary: Hmmph! I gotta go now. Got loads of work at home!
Jincy: Same here. Bye
Mary: Ahem… the way to your home is this way no? Then why are you going towards the Quail shop?
Jincy: I feel like a nice long walk that’s why!
Mary: And I so believe it!
Jincy: What did you say!
Mary (hastily): I said bye.
Mary and Jincy will then be seen frantically shopping for Prawns and Quails after this exchange.
Achayan families are of the belief that Christmas is a time of cooking and cooking and cooking till there is nothing left to cook.
Aunt: And what is left to cook now?
Another Aunt: I think we have covered every animal and edible living things.
Aunt: There must be something we have left out!
Another Aunt: You are right. I am getting that feeling to. Tomorrow at lunch time I will remember and that would be so embarrassing no?
Aunt: I hope such fate never befalls even our enemies!
Another Aunt: *shudder* Amen!
And that’s when we the kids run way from home. Kidding folks. We are too scared to run away. You don’t mess with dem achayathis. They are formidable ladies. Last time a guest ran out of the house in panic he had the hostess in hot pursuit balancing a plate of achappam and cake on one hand and some chicken stew and some idiappams on another.
What really happens at the lunch table after the above mentioned exchange is this:
Uncle: This beef fry is quite nice!
Aunt (evenly): That’s Brinjal dry fry!
Uncle: This fish curry is pretty good!
Aunt: That is not Fish. It is mutton…sniff!
Then there is total silence at the table.
The true spirit of Christmas is buried beneath mounds of food in Achayanland and we are yet to discover it. Perhaps, we will one day, when we have stopped eating our way to heaven/hell. And it is the reason I feel that the Church invented Advent (a sort of pre Christmas upwaas).
First Pope: We need to invent an event that will put dem Achayan out of the business of feeding.
Saint Austerity: How about a period of fasting and abstinence before Christmas your eminence?
Pope: What a wonderful idea!! Let them fast for six months before Christmas!!!
Saint Austerity: Err your holiness; we are talking of achayans here. You know the incorrigible race even God regrets creating!
Pope: Sigh, okay make it two months then.
Saint Austerity: Won’t work dude!
Pope (irritably): Okay okay, make it a couple of weeks then.
Saint Austerity (bowing deeply): Will do your eminence!
Pope: And most importantly…
Saint Austerity: Yes?
Pope: You call me ‘dude’ one more time and I will whip your holy a**e to hell!!!
Saint Austerity: Gulp, yes your eminence!
If Christmas lunch is not enough, we have post Christmas family visits to further endanger the bursting walls of our intestines. But by now, we have become experts in managing this. The moment we see the lady of the house walking in with a groaning tray, we whip out our Microtome knives, slice a piece of cake the thicknesses of 10 to 100 µm and exclaim “Delicious Aunty! This is so tasty that I will let the taste linger by not taking another bite of anything else you offer me.”
And then we haul our sorry selves back to Bangalore vowing never to eat another morsel of food till next Christmas. And that is the true Advent folks. The Church got it all wrong, or didn’t they? :-S You never know with them devious Priests!
p.s. if you need to verify if someone is a true blue achayan, ask him for the definition of Christmas. A true blue achayan will never get it right!
MERRY CHRISTMAS DEAR FRIENDS! May we discover the true spirit of Christmas. By we, I mean my people! :p
Susan: Gasp, the Pallikunnels are having Pepper Liver Fry for Christmas lunch!
Mother in law: #$#%@% didn’t I tell you to buy liver you %$#@ woman!!!
Susan: *Sob* I am going to the market right now ammachi!
Markets are groaning under the invasion of ladies who have just discovered what their neighbors are making for Christmas.
Mary: Hello Jincy, What brings you to the market today?
Jincy: Chumma, I just came for a breath of fresh air.
Mary (covering her nose to avoid the horrible stench of the fish market): Me too!
Jincy: I see that you have bought Quails!
Mary: Damn!!! Err… yes and those Prawns in your bag look very fresh!
Jincy: Damn! I should have covered them, I mean yes, and they are very fresh, but you never know. It may be rotten also!
Mary: Sure, sure and that is why you bought them I suppose. To help the poor fish fellow get rid of the rotten Prawns.
Jincy (sarcastically): Yes, it is Christmas no! Time to help our fellow human beings!
Mary: Hmmph! I gotta go now. Got loads of work at home!
Jincy: Same here. Bye
Mary: Ahem… the way to your home is this way no? Then why are you going towards the Quail shop?
Jincy: I feel like a nice long walk that’s why!
Mary: And I so believe it!
Jincy: What did you say!
Mary (hastily): I said bye.
Mary and Jincy will then be seen frantically shopping for Prawns and Quails after this exchange.
Achayan families are of the belief that Christmas is a time of cooking and cooking and cooking till there is nothing left to cook.
Aunt: And what is left to cook now?
Another Aunt: I think we have covered every animal and edible living things.
Aunt: There must be something we have left out!
Another Aunt: You are right. I am getting that feeling to. Tomorrow at lunch time I will remember and that would be so embarrassing no?
Aunt: I hope such fate never befalls even our enemies!
Another Aunt: *shudder* Amen!
And that’s when we the kids run way from home. Kidding folks. We are too scared to run away. You don’t mess with dem achayathis. They are formidable ladies. Last time a guest ran out of the house in panic he had the hostess in hot pursuit balancing a plate of achappam and cake on one hand and some chicken stew and some idiappams on another.
What really happens at the lunch table after the above mentioned exchange is this:
Uncle: This beef fry is quite nice!
Aunt (evenly): That’s Brinjal dry fry!
Uncle: This fish curry is pretty good!
Aunt: That is not Fish. It is mutton…sniff!
Then there is total silence at the table.
The true spirit of Christmas is buried beneath mounds of food in Achayanland and we are yet to discover it. Perhaps, we will one day, when we have stopped eating our way to heaven/hell. And it is the reason I feel that the Church invented Advent (a sort of pre Christmas upwaas).
First Pope: We need to invent an event that will put dem Achayan out of the business of feeding.
Saint Austerity: How about a period of fasting and abstinence before Christmas your eminence?
Pope: What a wonderful idea!! Let them fast for six months before Christmas!!!
Saint Austerity: Err your holiness; we are talking of achayans here. You know the incorrigible race even God regrets creating!
Pope: Sigh, okay make it two months then.
Saint Austerity: Won’t work dude!
Pope (irritably): Okay okay, make it a couple of weeks then.
Saint Austerity (bowing deeply): Will do your eminence!
Pope: And most importantly…
Saint Austerity: Yes?
Pope: You call me ‘dude’ one more time and I will whip your holy a**e to hell!!!
Saint Austerity: Gulp, yes your eminence!
If Christmas lunch is not enough, we have post Christmas family visits to further endanger the bursting walls of our intestines. But by now, we have become experts in managing this. The moment we see the lady of the house walking in with a groaning tray, we whip out our Microtome knives, slice a piece of cake the thicknesses of 10 to 100 µm and exclaim “Delicious Aunty! This is so tasty that I will let the taste linger by not taking another bite of anything else you offer me.”
And then we haul our sorry selves back to Bangalore vowing never to eat another morsel of food till next Christmas. And that is the true Advent folks. The Church got it all wrong, or didn’t they? :-S You never know with them devious Priests!
p.s. if you need to verify if someone is a true blue achayan, ask him for the definition of Christmas. A true blue achayan will never get it right!
MERRY CHRISTMAS DEAR FRIENDS! May we discover the true spirit of Christmas. By we, I mean my people! :p
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Wardrobe woes
It is that time of the year folks, when I look at the calendar and say “Holy crap I have no clothes to wear!!!” Then I empty the old clothes from the cupboard, pack them into neat bundles, number them from one to 47 and consult my phone directory. First call is to teen cousins of small build like me.
Cousin: Holy cow!! Is it time to clear your cupboard again??
Me: I am fine, thank you dear! And how are you?
Cousin: I do not want your tops.
Me: And how is your mother?
Cousin: I don’t care if they are as good as new.
Me: And your Dad?
Cousin: And I do not want your jeans either.
Me: And your cute little brother?
Cousin: And your shoes, hand bags, belts and other accessories.
Me: And your cat?
Cousin: And for the 255th time, I do not want your clothes. I am a teenager for god’s sake. I will be ostracized by my community if I wear clothes that you “oldies” in twenties wear!
Me: Damn these kids!
Next bakra is friends and acquaintances.
Friend: I get a call from you! Let me guess, you are trying to offload your clothes onto me.
Me: *sob* I was just checking up on you.
Friend: I am fine, if that is what you are worried about.
Me: That’s a relief! Last time I talked to you, you had a nasty sinusitis.
Friend: Naah! I never had sinusitis!
Me: Then it was a cough I think.
Friend: Naah!
Me: Cold?
Friend: Naah!
Me: Knee pain?
Friend: Naah!
Me: Ulcer?
Friend: Nopes!
Me: Fever?
Friend: Yes…but…
Me: Then you will luvvvv the warm tees that I have.
Friend: Sigh…I should have seen that coming!
Next lucky recipient is the nice little nun who runs an orphanage for girls.
Sister: Hi Anjali. No I do not want clothes. Bye! *Slam.*
Me (calling her again): Ahem…Sister, I called to wish you Merry Christmas!
Sister: Thank you! *Slam*
Me (calling her again): Your calls are getting cut sister. You must change to a better provider.
Sister: Look here dear. Here is the deal!
Me (hopefully): Yes?
Sister: I have four truckloads of clothes, another three of shoes and another six trucks of bed sheets, and other stuff parked in my yard. Help me get rid of them and I will take you clothes!
Me: *SLAM!!!*
After that I do what I should have done in the first place….i.e…call my maid. I watch with an ache in my heart as she carts away my clothes to distribute in her neighborhood and swear for the 45679th time, that I will not to buy too many expensive clothes. Then I feel so happy to see my empty cupboard that I go down on my knees, give thanks to almighty God and go shopping.
Cousin: Holy cow!! Is it time to clear your cupboard again??
Me: I am fine, thank you dear! And how are you?
Cousin: I do not want your tops.
Me: And how is your mother?
Cousin: I don’t care if they are as good as new.
Me: And your Dad?
Cousin: And I do not want your jeans either.
Me: And your cute little brother?
Cousin: And your shoes, hand bags, belts and other accessories.
Me: And your cat?
Cousin: And for the 255th time, I do not want your clothes. I am a teenager for god’s sake. I will be ostracized by my community if I wear clothes that you “oldies” in twenties wear!
Me: Damn these kids!
Next bakra is friends and acquaintances.
Friend: I get a call from you! Let me guess, you are trying to offload your clothes onto me.
Me: *sob* I was just checking up on you.
Friend: I am fine, if that is what you are worried about.
Me: That’s a relief! Last time I talked to you, you had a nasty sinusitis.
Friend: Naah! I never had sinusitis!
Me: Then it was a cough I think.
Friend: Naah!
Me: Cold?
Friend: Naah!
Me: Knee pain?
Friend: Naah!
Me: Ulcer?
Friend: Nopes!
Me: Fever?
Friend: Yes…but…
Me: Then you will luvvvv the warm tees that I have.
Friend: Sigh…I should have seen that coming!
Next lucky recipient is the nice little nun who runs an orphanage for girls.
Sister: Hi Anjali. No I do not want clothes. Bye! *Slam.*
Me (calling her again): Ahem…Sister, I called to wish you Merry Christmas!
Sister: Thank you! *Slam*
Me (calling her again): Your calls are getting cut sister. You must change to a better provider.
Sister: Look here dear. Here is the deal!
Me (hopefully): Yes?
Sister: I have four truckloads of clothes, another three of shoes and another six trucks of bed sheets, and other stuff parked in my yard. Help me get rid of them and I will take you clothes!
Me: *SLAM!!!*
After that I do what I should have done in the first place….i.e…call my maid. I watch with an ache in my heart as she carts away my clothes to distribute in her neighborhood and swear for the 45679th time, that I will not to buy too many expensive clothes. Then I feel so happy to see my empty cupboard that I go down on my knees, give thanks to almighty God and go shopping.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
A tale of two weddings
Time: 8 am.
Place: Moovattupuzha
Date: Never mind.
The bride groom is getting ready for the wedding. My amma and her entourage of sisters and cousin sisters, numbering a couple of hundred, are running around making sure that the hundred things that needs to be done in a wedding house is moving like clockwork. I have been told to 1. Freeze 2. Desist from giggling 3. Stop rolling my eyes.
Time: 8:15 am
Place: Ditto
Date: Who cares!
The Bride Groom (BG) enters the living room wearing his suit pants and the shirt. The phone rings. It is my punju friend from Chandigarh. She is at a wedding near Chandigarh she says. She is eager to know all about an achayan wedding she says. There is a sing song session going on at the venue of the wedding she is attending. She wants to know if we are also having a similar event. I look at the scenery before me and reply. “Yes there is a ballet which is going to start here. It is called Kaikottikali.” Friend is very impressed.
1. The brother in law of the BG takes the jacket and helps the BG into one sleeve smiling at the camera!
2. The sister in law of the BG holds the jacket behind him and helps him into the other sleeve, taking care to smile at the camera!
3. Friend 1 helps him button the jacket, smiling at the camera.
4. Friend 2 ties the tie for the BG, tying and untying till his jaws falls off due to the sheer fatigue of smiling at the camera.
5. A fully suited and booted BG looking like an over powdered handicapped moron who cannot put on a jacket himself is finally left alone…to smile at the camera!
6. I am seen rolling my eyes, by the camera.
My friend is excited. She wants to know what else happens at an achayan wedding. I tell her of the thousand years old ritual that will be performed at the house ….in not so many words. Friend is absolutely amazed. I cringe at the scene.
7. Mommy dearest comes forward and flicks off an imaginary speck of dust from the suit for the camera.
8. Mommy dearest then kisses BG on the forehead or cheek or hand for the camera!
9. Daddy dearest looking uncomfortable in the unusual formal clothes, checks hair and general get up of BG… for the camera.
10. He goes back to his easy chair a much relieved man in front of the camera.
11. Father is hauled up from easy chair and full family poses in front of camera.
12. BG then poses with parents for the camera.
13. BG then poses with parents and siblings for the camera.
14. BG then poses parents and siblings and Priest for the camera.
15. BG then poses parents and siblings and Priest and grandparents if alive for the camera.
16. BG then poses parents and siblings and Priest and grandparents if alive and sundry relatives for the camera.
Friend calls again. She is at the wedding hall she says. She is taking part in a dance competition she says. It is the groom’s family versus the brides. She wants to know if we have a similar tradition. I say “Of course” and suppress an insane urge to laugh like a maniac.
17. The whole group is now praying as a group in front of the camera.
18. Groom then takes blessings from each person present in the room for the camera.
19. Ladies surreptitiously wipe a non existent tear for the camera.
20. BG ceremoniously steps out of the house…in front of the camera.
21. Groom and his entourage wait while Photographer takes several shots of the bedecked car that will carry the BG to the Church…behind the camera.
22. The family stray dog looks on bewildered…away from the camera!
23. BG is photographed smiling from inside/outside/beside/ east west/south east/north east/ top of the car for the camera.
24. Some random male is photographed closing the door of the car for the camera.
25. I can be seen banging my head against the wall, in front of the camera.
Friend calls again. She is going to greet the bride she says. They will dance in front of the bride’s car till the wedding hall she says. What is happening at your place, she inquires. I tell her that I am doing a similar thing …but not in so many words.
26. The groom’s car is photographed leaving for church with a random cow looking on curiously on the road for the camera.
27. Car arrives at the Church after the camera.
28. Smiling and milling relatives are photographed smiling and milling at the camera.
29. BG/Bride enters the church after the camera.
30. People in the church are photographed from 9001 angles by the camera err photographer!
31. Special shots of little children looking sullen in suffocating clothes that make them look like miniature Charlie Chaplin’s, Cinderella’s and or Jokers, Abominable Snowman, Ustad Fateh Ali Khan and Bhappi Lahiri for the camera.
32. The pretty bridesmaids smile at the camera.
33. The pretty bridesmaids smile again at the camera.
34. The pretty bridesmaid smile yet again at the camera till the photographer is hauled away by the collar to resume work with the camera!
35. Uncomfortable looking men feeling uncomfortable in formal shirts look gravely away from the camera.
36. I am seen tearing out my hair in frustration, by the camera.
Friend calls again. She is leaving for the groom’s house she says. They will dance on the road in front of the groom atop a horse till the wedding halls she says. What is happening at your place, she inquires. I describe the scene…but not in so many words.
37. Priests arrive at the Altar giving a damn for the camera.
38. Wedding Mass is celebrated to full glory ignoring the camera!
39. The Mass is over and the group stand for photograph in front of the altar and the camera.
40. Newly married couple poses with parents for the camera.
41. Newly married couple poses with parents and siblings for the camera.
42. Newly married couple poses with parents and siblings and presiding Priests for the camera.
44. Newly married couple poses with parents and siblings and presiding Priests and grandparents if alive for the camera.
45. Newly married couple poses with parents and siblings and presiding Priests and grandparents if alive and sundry for the camera.
46. The newlyweds leave for the reception behind the camera.
47. My mother is seen hauling me up by the scruff of my kurti neck and dragging me kicking and screaming to the reception by the camera.
The wedding in Chandigarh and Moovattupuzha is now over. My friend is now taking part in the vidayee ceremony of the bride. The bride is saying good bye to her parents and parental home amidst much tears and sobbing. Friend wants to know if we have a similar tradition in Kerala. I look at the well stocked bar at the Reception Hall and lie.
48. Reception is a blur for most of us and the camera.
49. Ladies can be seen dragging the men away from the bar in front of the camera.
50. Men can seen going right back to the bar in front of the camera.
51. Ladies can be seen dragging the men away again … in front of the camera.
52. Men can seen going right back again in front of the camera.
53. Everyone is seen laughing and talking and making much noise by the camera.
54. I can be seen pumping my fist in sheer ecstasy that it is over…by the camera.
Friend calls again and tells me about the pall of gloom that has descended on the bridal house after her departure. She wants to know if the bridal home in Moovattupuzha is facing as similar situation! I think of the Picasa Album link with the 4000 photos (upgraded account) that will be sent to me for compulsory viewing and I break down. Friend is sympathetic and understanding but mostly astonished at the similarity of traditions amongst punjus and mallus.
Place: Moovattupuzha
Date: Never mind.
The bride groom is getting ready for the wedding. My amma and her entourage of sisters and cousin sisters, numbering a couple of hundred, are running around making sure that the hundred things that needs to be done in a wedding house is moving like clockwork. I have been told to 1. Freeze 2. Desist from giggling 3. Stop rolling my eyes.
Time: 8:15 am
Place: Ditto
Date: Who cares!
The Bride Groom (BG) enters the living room wearing his suit pants and the shirt. The phone rings. It is my punju friend from Chandigarh. She is at a wedding near Chandigarh she says. She is eager to know all about an achayan wedding she says. There is a sing song session going on at the venue of the wedding she is attending. She wants to know if we are also having a similar event. I look at the scenery before me and reply. “Yes there is a ballet which is going to start here. It is called Kaikottikali.” Friend is very impressed.
1. The brother in law of the BG takes the jacket and helps the BG into one sleeve smiling at the camera!
2. The sister in law of the BG holds the jacket behind him and helps him into the other sleeve, taking care to smile at the camera!
3. Friend 1 helps him button the jacket, smiling at the camera.
4. Friend 2 ties the tie for the BG, tying and untying till his jaws falls off due to the sheer fatigue of smiling at the camera.
5. A fully suited and booted BG looking like an over powdered handicapped moron who cannot put on a jacket himself is finally left alone…to smile at the camera!
6. I am seen rolling my eyes, by the camera.
My friend is excited. She wants to know what else happens at an achayan wedding. I tell her of the thousand years old ritual that will be performed at the house ….in not so many words. Friend is absolutely amazed. I cringe at the scene.
7. Mommy dearest comes forward and flicks off an imaginary speck of dust from the suit for the camera.
8. Mommy dearest then kisses BG on the forehead or cheek or hand for the camera!
9. Daddy dearest looking uncomfortable in the unusual formal clothes, checks hair and general get up of BG… for the camera.
10. He goes back to his easy chair a much relieved man in front of the camera.
11. Father is hauled up from easy chair and full family poses in front of camera.
12. BG then poses with parents for the camera.
13. BG then poses with parents and siblings for the camera.
14. BG then poses parents and siblings and Priest for the camera.
15. BG then poses parents and siblings and Priest and grandparents if alive for the camera.
16. BG then poses parents and siblings and Priest and grandparents if alive and sundry relatives for the camera.
Friend calls again. She is at the wedding hall she says. She is taking part in a dance competition she says. It is the groom’s family versus the brides. She wants to know if we have a similar tradition. I say “Of course” and suppress an insane urge to laugh like a maniac.
17. The whole group is now praying as a group in front of the camera.
18. Groom then takes blessings from each person present in the room for the camera.
19. Ladies surreptitiously wipe a non existent tear for the camera.
20. BG ceremoniously steps out of the house…in front of the camera.
21. Groom and his entourage wait while Photographer takes several shots of the bedecked car that will carry the BG to the Church…behind the camera.
22. The family stray dog looks on bewildered…away from the camera!
23. BG is photographed smiling from inside/outside/beside/ east west/south east/north east/ top of the car for the camera.
24. Some random male is photographed closing the door of the car for the camera.
25. I can be seen banging my head against the wall, in front of the camera.
Friend calls again. She is going to greet the bride she says. They will dance in front of the bride’s car till the wedding hall she says. What is happening at your place, she inquires. I tell her that I am doing a similar thing …but not in so many words.
26. The groom’s car is photographed leaving for church with a random cow looking on curiously on the road for the camera.
27. Car arrives at the Church after the camera.
28. Smiling and milling relatives are photographed smiling and milling at the camera.
29. BG/Bride enters the church after the camera.
30. People in the church are photographed from 9001 angles by the camera err photographer!
31. Special shots of little children looking sullen in suffocating clothes that make them look like miniature Charlie Chaplin’s, Cinderella’s and or Jokers, Abominable Snowman, Ustad Fateh Ali Khan and Bhappi Lahiri for the camera.
32. The pretty bridesmaids smile at the camera.
33. The pretty bridesmaids smile again at the camera.
34. The pretty bridesmaid smile yet again at the camera till the photographer is hauled away by the collar to resume work with the camera!
35. Uncomfortable looking men feeling uncomfortable in formal shirts look gravely away from the camera.
36. I am seen tearing out my hair in frustration, by the camera.
Friend calls again. She is leaving for the groom’s house she says. They will dance on the road in front of the groom atop a horse till the wedding halls she says. What is happening at your place, she inquires. I describe the scene…but not in so many words.
37. Priests arrive at the Altar giving a damn for the camera.
38. Wedding Mass is celebrated to full glory ignoring the camera!
39. The Mass is over and the group stand for photograph in front of the altar and the camera.
40. Newly married couple poses with parents for the camera.
41. Newly married couple poses with parents and siblings for the camera.
42. Newly married couple poses with parents and siblings and presiding Priests for the camera.
44. Newly married couple poses with parents and siblings and presiding Priests and grandparents if alive for the camera.
45. Newly married couple poses with parents and siblings and presiding Priests and grandparents if alive and sundry for the camera.
46. The newlyweds leave for the reception behind the camera.
47. My mother is seen hauling me up by the scruff of my kurti neck and dragging me kicking and screaming to the reception by the camera.
The wedding in Chandigarh and Moovattupuzha is now over. My friend is now taking part in the vidayee ceremony of the bride. The bride is saying good bye to her parents and parental home amidst much tears and sobbing. Friend wants to know if we have a similar tradition in Kerala. I look at the well stocked bar at the Reception Hall and lie.
48. Reception is a blur for most of us and the camera.
49. Ladies can be seen dragging the men away from the bar in front of the camera.
50. Men can seen going right back to the bar in front of the camera.
51. Ladies can be seen dragging the men away again … in front of the camera.
52. Men can seen going right back again in front of the camera.
53. Everyone is seen laughing and talking and making much noise by the camera.
54. I can be seen pumping my fist in sheer ecstasy that it is over…by the camera.
Friend calls again and tells me about the pall of gloom that has descended on the bridal house after her departure. She wants to know if the bridal home in Moovattupuzha is facing as similar situation! I think of the Picasa Album link with the 4000 photos (upgraded account) that will be sent to me for compulsory viewing and I break down. Friend is sympathetic and understanding but mostly astonished at the similarity of traditions amongst punjus and mallus.
Monday, November 02, 2009
Mobile Entertainment
Now that the Big 10 bus services have been introduced in Bangalore, I find my self using the service to go to town...quite literally. During weekdays we car pool, so during weekends I use this service to give me a break from driving. During my travels from home to Brigade Road I find myself seated next to a lot of people who use the travel time to catch up with friends, relations, parents, BF/GF etc. Of these, the mallus are the most voluble.
Example no 1: The Mallu gal in Bangalore for higher studies.
This type generally chats up people back home in Kerala during the bus ride. The conversation is held in Malayalam. I have used the liberty to use English for non mallu readers. Typical conversations are like this:
Hellooo! Idhu njaana! Aa! Pinne…avide endha vishesham? Is it raining there aa? Aa! What about at Babuchayans place? Please be careful near the well. You will slip and fall due to the moss. Tell that Vareed to come and clean it no! Has achchan repaired the wall on the other side of the parambu? That Mathukutty's cows will have a hay-day if you don’t. Pinne… tell me what else is new there? Aiyyo jose chetande kada pootiyo? Eppo? So where do you buy vegetables from now? Teresa chechi is gone home for delivery? I hope I can get home by then. Pakshe test undu. Pinne businde ticketinde prashanam undo. Last minute ticket kitoola. Njaan innu onnum kazhichilla amme. Breakfastinnu breadum butterum ayirnnu. Maduthu! Pinne…vere endha vishesham? Aiyyo ende stop vittu poyi. Njaan vekkate? Illa, adutha stopil irangi nadannolam. Sheri! Amme vekkate? Aiyyo stop vannu. Koda eduthatundu. Vayiguneram vilikaam tow? Aiyyo conductor saare stop maadi. Eranganam.
All this is delivered at supersonic jaw crunching speed and by the time we reach the next stop I and other mallu passengers in the bus can write the biography of the entire Kandath family from Thodupuzha!!
Next specimen will be mallu gal from Kerala married to techie guy and now employed in some office. She will talk to her friend also married and living in Calicut.
Hiiiii! How are you? I am fine. Etan is also fine. Ende father in law sick aa! Ariyulla endha problem. Vayis ayille. Pinne enna visheshams? Ivide oru vishesham illa. *gasp* Really??? Aiyyo! I did not hear that! When? Where? How? Ende daivamme!! Did her parents bring her back? I knew it! I told her also. But she was madly in love with him! Pinne what else? Anyone else in our batch getting married? Job is boring yaar. Etan comes home only by 9. I watch TV what else! My neighbor is some Tamilian. Kandooda aa sthreeye! Ende stop vannu. Njaan orkuttil scrap chaiyyam. Balance illa. Bye!
To me: Is this Lal Baugh stop?
Me: No. This bus doesn’t go that way!
Gal: Aiyyo!
Me: Where are you going?
Gal: Majestic!
Me: You are in the wrong bus.
Gal: !!!!
Me: Never mind. Get down at Brigade Road. You will lots of buses from there.
Gal: Hello? Nasreen? I am in the wrong bus *giggle* hahahahahahahaha
And more ahahahaha
After that I and the rest of the passengers who can understand Malayalam can write the entire biography of the Krishnan Menon and Abu Backer Family from Calicut.
Unfortunately no guys will sit next to me as I sit in the ladies section. But like the other Bangalore guys, mallu guys are also not discriminatory and do not mind sitting on ladies seats. Their conversations will go like this after looking around and ascertaining that his neighbors are non mallus.
Hey da I met Sushmita, Renju and Baby yesterday. They are all here. Ramesh IBM’ill annu. Rejoyum, babyum Accentureil annu. Pinne Joemone kandu. Avan Bilkehalliyill aanu thamasam. Navin has gone to the US for his MS. I am in training now. Boring da. After that I will go to Pune. Yesterday was team lunch. Stupid food. Everybody wanted Andhra food. You don’t get malayalam movies here. So Sunday we spend roaming around malls. Jijo is in TCS. Harish is in Infosys. Srinivasan is in Mindtree. Abraham is in CTS and …..!
By the time this conversation is over, me and the other passengers who know Malayalam feel like picking him up and heaving him out of the bus.
Example no 1: The Mallu gal in Bangalore for higher studies.
This type generally chats up people back home in Kerala during the bus ride. The conversation is held in Malayalam. I have used the liberty to use English for non mallu readers. Typical conversations are like this:
Hellooo! Idhu njaana! Aa! Pinne…avide endha vishesham? Is it raining there aa? Aa! What about at Babuchayans place? Please be careful near the well. You will slip and fall due to the moss. Tell that Vareed to come and clean it no! Has achchan repaired the wall on the other side of the parambu? That Mathukutty's cows will have a hay-day if you don’t. Pinne… tell me what else is new there? Aiyyo jose chetande kada pootiyo? Eppo? So where do you buy vegetables from now? Teresa chechi is gone home for delivery? I hope I can get home by then. Pakshe test undu. Pinne businde ticketinde prashanam undo. Last minute ticket kitoola. Njaan innu onnum kazhichilla amme. Breakfastinnu breadum butterum ayirnnu. Maduthu! Pinne…vere endha vishesham? Aiyyo ende stop vittu poyi. Njaan vekkate? Illa, adutha stopil irangi nadannolam. Sheri! Amme vekkate? Aiyyo stop vannu. Koda eduthatundu. Vayiguneram vilikaam tow? Aiyyo conductor saare stop maadi. Eranganam.
All this is delivered at supersonic jaw crunching speed and by the time we reach the next stop I and other mallu passengers in the bus can write the biography of the entire Kandath family from Thodupuzha!!
Next specimen will be mallu gal from Kerala married to techie guy and now employed in some office. She will talk to her friend also married and living in Calicut.
Hiiiii! How are you? I am fine. Etan is also fine. Ende father in law sick aa! Ariyulla endha problem. Vayis ayille. Pinne enna visheshams? Ivide oru vishesham illa. *gasp* Really??? Aiyyo! I did not hear that! When? Where? How? Ende daivamme!! Did her parents bring her back? I knew it! I told her also. But she was madly in love with him! Pinne what else? Anyone else in our batch getting married? Job is boring yaar. Etan comes home only by 9. I watch TV what else! My neighbor is some Tamilian. Kandooda aa sthreeye! Ende stop vannu. Njaan orkuttil scrap chaiyyam. Balance illa. Bye!
To me: Is this Lal Baugh stop?
Me: No. This bus doesn’t go that way!
Gal: Aiyyo!
Me: Where are you going?
Gal: Majestic!
Me: You are in the wrong bus.
Gal: !!!!
Me: Never mind. Get down at Brigade Road. You will lots of buses from there.
Gal: Hello? Nasreen? I am in the wrong bus *giggle* hahahahahahahaha
And more ahahahaha
After that I and the rest of the passengers who can understand Malayalam can write the entire biography of the Krishnan Menon and Abu Backer Family from Calicut.
Unfortunately no guys will sit next to me as I sit in the ladies section. But like the other Bangalore guys, mallu guys are also not discriminatory and do not mind sitting on ladies seats. Their conversations will go like this after looking around and ascertaining that his neighbors are non mallus.
Hey da I met Sushmita, Renju and Baby yesterday. They are all here. Ramesh IBM’ill annu. Rejoyum, babyum Accentureil annu. Pinne Joemone kandu. Avan Bilkehalliyill aanu thamasam. Navin has gone to the US for his MS. I am in training now. Boring da. After that I will go to Pune. Yesterday was team lunch. Stupid food. Everybody wanted Andhra food. You don’t get malayalam movies here. So Sunday we spend roaming around malls. Jijo is in TCS. Harish is in Infosys. Srinivasan is in Mindtree. Abraham is in CTS and …..!
By the time this conversation is over, me and the other passengers who know Malayalam feel like picking him up and heaving him out of the bus.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Back to the Future
Diary of a blogger. Year 2025
1-1-2025
Dear Diary
Got hauled to the court today for calling Onam, The festival of Putting on Much Weight. Judge let me off after looking at his paunch mournfully.
12-02-2025
Dear Diary
Got summons from the court today by the Aluwa Haluwa Manufacturer Association (AHA) for blogging about the black halwa from Aluwa. According to the Plaintiffs, it hurt their sentiments deeply. Judge let me off after spitting out the halwa sample he was eating.
17-03-2025
Dear Diary
Cannot update blog because I have to attend yet another court hearing. ViceNet TV is suing me for calling their serial Sthree Venom a bad example for young minds in my blog. The judge let me off after watching the serial in horror.
23-04-2025
Dear Diary
Have to go to gods own country again for a case against me at the capital court. I pleaded not guilty to offending people by calling the capital roads a death trap. The Judge let me off after I had autographed the plaster cast on his hands and legs and head.
10-06-2025
Dear Diary
I have three court appearances in gods own country today. All three are due to my blog. Judge let me off as usual, warning the Plaintiffs to stop wasting the courts time. The Plaintiffs argued that protesting against Sohan Pal being called a ‘has been’ was not wasting the courts time. The judge had them thrown off the premises. He was then seen signing a petition requesting Sohan Pal to quit acting.
15-09-2025
Dear Diary
Went to gods own country again. This time a political party is suing me for calling them ‘against progress’. The Judge let me off after agreeing with me solemnly.
26-12-2025
Dear Diary
Spent Christmas in prison because I was arrested on 24th and 25th is a holiday. I was being sued for making fun of Kochi Township by calling it a mosquito haven. Judge let me off after he had swatted a couple of dozen mosquitoes hovering over his head. The plaintiffs were seen hopping and jumping during the entire proceedings.
I am hoping that the New Year will bring tidings of good sense and judgment amongst the people.
This post is a commentary on some people dragging bloggers to court over trivial issues because they need to shut down what they cannot shout down.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
A shot gun wedding of the Goan kind!
Warning: Long post ahead!
I am back folks after a couple of days in the sun on Goa’s sandy beaches that I merely saw through the car windows as I rushed about getting things ready for a very dear friends wedding. Dear friend (henceforth referred to as DF) had suddenly decided that she would marry her long-time-boyfriend-whom-her-Dad-hated (hence forth referred to as LTBDH). To make things complicated, her mom too hated her boyfriend’s ponytail though she liked him as a person she said. DF is from one of those wealthy old rich families from Goa. While LTBDH’s ancestors had made it big quite recently like in the early 1800’s which was a clear 200 years after DF’s ancestors had become rich. This made LTBDH a new rich and hence unacceptable. No girl/boy from DF’s ancient family ever married a nouveau riche.
It all started one rainy morning at 3 am when I was asnooze under the warm blanket of knowledge that my phone is off the hook. I am jolted out of my warm security blanket by the strident ringing of the phone in the hallway.
Me: hellllloyawwwwwn!!
DF: You asleep?
Me: No, I was lying here with my eyes closed trying to the break the Guinness Book of World Record in keeping my eyelids closed for the maximum number of hours. It’s been 6 hours now and thanks to you I will not be able to break the world record.
DF: I am in trouble!
Me: That makes you my closest competitor in breaking the Guinness Book of World in getting into trouble.
DF: I think I will die if I don’t marry Brian.
Me: That is sad.
DF: What do you mean sad.
Me: I will never make it to the Guinness Book of World Record for sleeping one night without a call from you at some unearthly hour!
DF: I am going to get married to him tomorrow in Goa.
Me: What!!! Your poor Dad was so close to breaking the Guinness Book of World Record for missing Brian with his shotgun!! Brian is a sitting duck in the church!! Poor man you will spoil his chances too wont you???
DF: I will pick you up at 6 am sharp.
Me: Shall I bring my brain along or shall I leave it in the freezer? I am so close to breaking the Guinness Book of World Record in following your diktats blindly you know?
DF: Shut up and go to sleep!
Me: Ok master! Yipee I just made it to the Guinness Book of World Record by breaking my previous record of following your diktats blindly!
DF: Carry your driving license. You are driving from Davangere onwards.
Me: Why Davangere onwards?
DF: Because the road is really bad from there stupid!
Me: That makes me close to breaking the Guinness Book of World Record in …
DF: *Click*
That just broke the world record in the number of times DF hung up on me I guess!
Anyways after some frantic shopping for wedding clothes that were both elegant and bullet proof, we left for Goa. The journey was uneventful except for Sankey Tank sized craters and Ulsoor Lake sized ditches and Sarjapur Lake sized potholes besides several Lorries lying belly up shamelessly flashing their privates in various angles forcing us to take detours through villages that were perhaps getting visitors from the outside world for the first time.
Villager One: Look! A metal apparition with strange females inside!!!
Villager Two: Naah, that is just the annual clearance sale for elegant and bullet proof wedding clothes.
Villager One: My bad.
We reached Goa in good time, singing “Soni De Nakhre” and “Mind Blowing Mahia” from Cash in off key, severely shrill voices that could be one of the reasons why the lorry drivers gave way so hastily. As soon as we reached DF’s ancestral house err mansion, we were welcomed by a bevy of anxious looking relatives who were looking worried, scared and anxious (in that order).
Mom (anxiously): Your Dad is looking high and low for Brian!
DF: Tell him to clean his rifle scope ma!
Dad: Damn it!! I knew I was doing something wrong!!
The next crisis was the Church. Apparently old Goa churches are not bullet proof nor do they allow guns inside. The latter has nothing to do with the eleventh commandment “Thou shall not kill thy son in law” but more to do with the fact that the Churches are very old and will crumble under the sonic boom of gunfire. To make things worse, DF put her foot down and said that she will get married in their parish Church only and nowhere else. Dad’s eyes glowed with pride. He would finally get to shoot Brian. After much hyperventilation and anxiety attacks we managed to (1) convince her to settle for the convent chapel for the wedding and (2) convince her Uncles to get her Dad sloshed enough to get the Nuptials* over and done with. We did not have much choice but a private chapel was the only way we could keep an eye on Daddy dearest and his rifle.
The wedding went fine.
Priest: Do you DF take LTBDH to be your lawfully wedded husband.
Dad: *hic*
Priest: Do you LTBDH take DF to be your lawfully wedded wife?
Dad: *burrrp*
Priest: I now pronounce you man and wife!
Congregation: *whew*
Dad: *snore*
The photo op went fine with Daddy dearest smiling blissfully, the newlyweds looking wary and the relations looking relieved.
The reception went even greater on the green lawns that skirt DF’s ancestral house adjoining the Mandovi river. We took turns dancing with Daddy dearest and keeping him in high spirits. Daddy was the life of the party. He even raised his glass to the newly weds before passing out.
Chicken Xacuti, Prawn Balchao, Pork Sorportel and Vindaloo and hundred other melt in the mouth morsels later, we whisked the newly weds away to their honey moon suite. We had booked two just in case Daddy dearest decided to crash the honeymoon night rifle in tow. We needn’t have bothered. He had passed out for the evening.
Next day when we were leaving for Bangalore, Daddy dearest gave us a present as a token of his appreciation for all the help. It was a highly polished brass bullet from the 19th century he said. Guaranteed to kill an elephant and highly volatile too he said. And a collector’s item to boot.
The journey back very eventful with everyone flinching and covering their ears when we hit a pothole wondering when the volatile gift would explode blowing us to pieces. Someone suggested we throw it out instead of being blown to smithereens. By the time we debated and argued over it, we were in Bangalore. I gingerly handed over the bullet to my dad asking him to be careful. Dad turned it up and down and around while I looked on nervously and declared the bullet... a blank.
No prizes for guessing who cussed the loudest and longest!
But lets look at the bright side here. Daddy dearest and us are even now. Thank god!
* the nuptials is the actual wedding ceremony where the couple exchange vows and are pronounced man and wife.
I am back folks after a couple of days in the sun on Goa’s sandy beaches that I merely saw through the car windows as I rushed about getting things ready for a very dear friends wedding. Dear friend (henceforth referred to as DF) had suddenly decided that she would marry her long-time-boyfriend-whom-her-Dad-hated (hence forth referred to as LTBDH). To make things complicated, her mom too hated her boyfriend’s ponytail though she liked him as a person she said. DF is from one of those wealthy old rich families from Goa. While LTBDH’s ancestors had made it big quite recently like in the early 1800’s which was a clear 200 years after DF’s ancestors had become rich. This made LTBDH a new rich and hence unacceptable. No girl/boy from DF’s ancient family ever married a nouveau riche.
It all started one rainy morning at 3 am when I was asnooze under the warm blanket of knowledge that my phone is off the hook. I am jolted out of my warm security blanket by the strident ringing of the phone in the hallway.
Me: hellllloyawwwwwn!!
DF: You asleep?
Me: No, I was lying here with my eyes closed trying to the break the Guinness Book of World Record in keeping my eyelids closed for the maximum number of hours. It’s been 6 hours now and thanks to you I will not be able to break the world record.
DF: I am in trouble!
Me: That makes you my closest competitor in breaking the Guinness Book of World in getting into trouble.
DF: I think I will die if I don’t marry Brian.
Me: That is sad.
DF: What do you mean sad.
Me: I will never make it to the Guinness Book of World Record for sleeping one night without a call from you at some unearthly hour!
DF: I am going to get married to him tomorrow in Goa.
Me: What!!! Your poor Dad was so close to breaking the Guinness Book of World Record for missing Brian with his shotgun!! Brian is a sitting duck in the church!! Poor man you will spoil his chances too wont you???
DF: I will pick you up at 6 am sharp.
Me: Shall I bring my brain along or shall I leave it in the freezer? I am so close to breaking the Guinness Book of World Record in following your diktats blindly you know?
DF: Shut up and go to sleep!
Me: Ok master! Yipee I just made it to the Guinness Book of World Record by breaking my previous record of following your diktats blindly!
DF: Carry your driving license. You are driving from Davangere onwards.
Me: Why Davangere onwards?
DF: Because the road is really bad from there stupid!
Me: That makes me close to breaking the Guinness Book of World Record in …
DF: *Click*
That just broke the world record in the number of times DF hung up on me I guess!
Anyways after some frantic shopping for wedding clothes that were both elegant and bullet proof, we left for Goa. The journey was uneventful except for Sankey Tank sized craters and Ulsoor Lake sized ditches and Sarjapur Lake sized potholes besides several Lorries lying belly up shamelessly flashing their privates in various angles forcing us to take detours through villages that were perhaps getting visitors from the outside world for the first time.
Villager One: Look! A metal apparition with strange females inside!!!
Villager Two: Naah, that is just the annual clearance sale for elegant and bullet proof wedding clothes.
Villager One: My bad.
We reached Goa in good time, singing “Soni De Nakhre” and “Mind Blowing Mahia” from Cash in off key, severely shrill voices that could be one of the reasons why the lorry drivers gave way so hastily. As soon as we reached DF’s ancestral house err mansion, we were welcomed by a bevy of anxious looking relatives who were looking worried, scared and anxious (in that order).
Mom (anxiously): Your Dad is looking high and low for Brian!
DF: Tell him to clean his rifle scope ma!
Dad: Damn it!! I knew I was doing something wrong!!
The next crisis was the Church. Apparently old Goa churches are not bullet proof nor do they allow guns inside. The latter has nothing to do with the eleventh commandment “Thou shall not kill thy son in law” but more to do with the fact that the Churches are very old and will crumble under the sonic boom of gunfire. To make things worse, DF put her foot down and said that she will get married in their parish Church only and nowhere else. Dad’s eyes glowed with pride. He would finally get to shoot Brian. After much hyperventilation and anxiety attacks we managed to (1) convince her to settle for the convent chapel for the wedding and (2) convince her Uncles to get her Dad sloshed enough to get the Nuptials* over and done with. We did not have much choice but a private chapel was the only way we could keep an eye on Daddy dearest and his rifle.
The wedding went fine.
Priest: Do you DF take LTBDH to be your lawfully wedded husband.
Dad: *hic*
Priest: Do you LTBDH take DF to be your lawfully wedded wife?
Dad: *burrrp*
Priest: I now pronounce you man and wife!
Congregation: *whew*
Dad: *snore*
The photo op went fine with Daddy dearest smiling blissfully, the newlyweds looking wary and the relations looking relieved.
The reception went even greater on the green lawns that skirt DF’s ancestral house adjoining the Mandovi river. We took turns dancing with Daddy dearest and keeping him in high spirits. Daddy was the life of the party. He even raised his glass to the newly weds before passing out.
Chicken Xacuti, Prawn Balchao, Pork Sorportel and Vindaloo and hundred other melt in the mouth morsels later, we whisked the newly weds away to their honey moon suite. We had booked two just in case Daddy dearest decided to crash the honeymoon night rifle in tow. We needn’t have bothered. He had passed out for the evening.
Next day when we were leaving for Bangalore, Daddy dearest gave us a present as a token of his appreciation for all the help. It was a highly polished brass bullet from the 19th century he said. Guaranteed to kill an elephant and highly volatile too he said. And a collector’s item to boot.
The journey back very eventful with everyone flinching and covering their ears when we hit a pothole wondering when the volatile gift would explode blowing us to pieces. Someone suggested we throw it out instead of being blown to smithereens. By the time we debated and argued over it, we were in Bangalore. I gingerly handed over the bullet to my dad asking him to be careful. Dad turned it up and down and around while I looked on nervously and declared the bullet... a blank.
No prizes for guessing who cussed the loudest and longest!
But lets look at the bright side here. Daddy dearest and us are even now. Thank god!
* the nuptials is the actual wedding ceremony where the couple exchange vows and are pronounced man and wife.
Monday, June 29, 2009
How to make a Chinese Film in four easy steps.
(Note: This is a free tutorial. But I live hand to mouth so do leave a donation. Really large donations would be welcome and preferred. You are under no obligation to donate but if you don’t, you will rot in hell and it is really hot in there I tell you.)
Ingredients for the movie.
1. 1 Good looking Chinese guy knowing the martial arts
2. 1 Good looking Chinese girl knowing the martial arts.
3. 1 Sinister looking Chinese villain knowing the martial arts and dreadful PJ's delivered with a straight face
4. Several dumb followers of the villain also knowing the martial arts.
5. 1 Fragile old martial warrior capable of mouthing corny philosophy with a straight face.
6. 1 thingy, lets call it The Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja or some other crap that is the prize every one with fight over and which more or less makes up the plot of the movie.
7. Awful lot of what we have come to believe is Chinese Music
Scene one: China 14th BC.
The good looking Chinese guy who is obviously the Hero is sleeping in his bedroom and into the room appears from amongst billowing blue and yellow smoke an apparition. The apparition who is an old frail Chinese man (Ingredient No. 5) informs the Hero that he has been pre ordained by the Venerable One who lives in the land of the Fire Breathing Dragons to be the next inheritor of The Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja. Hero nearly craps in his bed when he sees the apparition
Apparition: *cough* *cough*
Hero: You have an awful cough!
Apparition: Its this stupid smoke!
Hero: Why are you appearing out of smoke then?
Apparition: It is a special effect bozo. The audience likes it!
Hero (bowing deeply): Forgive me O Learned One.
The apparition disappears and appears again because he has forgotten to give the Hero the directions to the Valley of a Thousand Sighs where The Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja is kept atop a mountain in The Imperial Pagoda. The apparition then disappears again…temporarily.
Scene Two
Hero sets off to the Valley of a Thousand Sighs on foot followed at a distance by the Villain's men who have listened into the conversation between the Hero and the Apparition. The day turns dark and the Hero takes rest under a tree in the night. Just when he is falling asleep he is attacked by the Villain’s men. What follows is a fine display of Middle School Geometry as you see limbs flying in Acute, Obtuse and Straight Angles all over the place accompanied by awful grunts and feminine screeches. Amidst this fine display of Geometric Angles of Limbs (a.k.a Martial Arts) comes the Villain. He was waiting patiently somewhere for his men to get beaten to pulp and now he takes on the Hero. The Hero and the Villain eye each other warily through indistinguishable eyes, hands extended as though squeezing the neck of a really large necked man. They move in circles, first clockwise, then counter clockwise and then clockwise. Into this scenario arrives the good looking Chinese girl wearing a veil. Villain makes sexist jokes leering at her lustily. She plunges at the Villain in an amazing display of Geometric Angles of Limbs beneath Diaphanous Gown and the two manage to chase the Villain away. After the departure of the Villain the girl bows deeply and explains that she is the daughter of the Enlightened One who sits on the Mountains of Silver Mist and that she has been assigned to assist him. The Hero bows back and when he straightens up she has disappeared into the forest. The Hero vows never to bow too deeply again!
Scene three
Our Hero reaches the mountain and sees a languid pool of water called The Lake of a Thousand Tears. Here he is again confronted by the Villain’s men who have made an instantaneous recovery from their earlier thrashings. Another fine display of Geometric Angles of the Limbs this time on the mountainside and then the Hero departs on his way. After negotiating 5678 hair pins bends the Hero is ambushed by the Villain who delivers him a mortal blow with his sword. Hero is left to die and he is peacefully snoring on the road when the apparition reappears scaring the crap out of him again. The apparition reminds the Hero of his task.
Apparition: You have many tasks to accomplish before you sleep like a log that has been washed over by The Raging Dragon Sea!
Hero: Huh?
Apparition: Do you not know that by the time the sun sets over The Realm of Darkness the Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja should be removed from The Imperial Pagoda!!
Hero: Err could you please repeat that!
Apparition: Sigh!
Scene Four
Hero reaches The Imperial Pagoda only to be confronted by the Villain and you are treated to another hour spectacularly boring Geometric Angles of the Limbs which is an exact replica of previous Geometric Angles of the Limbs. This time however the Hero wins the Battle of the Geometric Angle of Limbs and manages to remove The Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja from The Imperial Pagoda a fraction of a second before the sun sets over the Realm of Darkness. Phew! Chinese music flows over the credits that sound surprisingly like the rendition of what some orchestra in Los Angeles thinks is Chinese music.
This post is dedicated to my brother M who has single handedly kept the Hong Kong movie industry alive and kicking (pun unintended) by buying every$#%@& movie that they come out with!
That’s it folks. Have a nice week and do not forget to donate.
Ingredients for the movie.
1. 1 Good looking Chinese guy knowing the martial arts
2. 1 Good looking Chinese girl knowing the martial arts.
3. 1 Sinister looking Chinese villain knowing the martial arts and dreadful PJ's delivered with a straight face
4. Several dumb followers of the villain also knowing the martial arts.
5. 1 Fragile old martial warrior capable of mouthing corny philosophy with a straight face.
6. 1 thingy, lets call it The Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja or some other crap that is the prize every one with fight over and which more or less makes up the plot of the movie.
7. Awful lot of what we have come to believe is Chinese Music
Scene one: China 14th BC.
The good looking Chinese guy who is obviously the Hero is sleeping in his bedroom and into the room appears from amongst billowing blue and yellow smoke an apparition. The apparition who is an old frail Chinese man (Ingredient No. 5) informs the Hero that he has been pre ordained by the Venerable One who lives in the land of the Fire Breathing Dragons to be the next inheritor of The Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja. Hero nearly craps in his bed when he sees the apparition
Apparition: *cough* *cough*
Hero: You have an awful cough!
Apparition: Its this stupid smoke!
Hero: Why are you appearing out of smoke then?
Apparition: It is a special effect bozo. The audience likes it!
Hero (bowing deeply): Forgive me O Learned One.
The apparition disappears and appears again because he has forgotten to give the Hero the directions to the Valley of a Thousand Sighs where The Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja is kept atop a mountain in The Imperial Pagoda. The apparition then disappears again…temporarily.
Scene Two
Hero sets off to the Valley of a Thousand Sighs on foot followed at a distance by the Villain's men who have listened into the conversation between the Hero and the Apparition. The day turns dark and the Hero takes rest under a tree in the night. Just when he is falling asleep he is attacked by the Villain’s men. What follows is a fine display of Middle School Geometry as you see limbs flying in Acute, Obtuse and Straight Angles all over the place accompanied by awful grunts and feminine screeches. Amidst this fine display of Geometric Angles of Limbs (a.k.a Martial Arts) comes the Villain. He was waiting patiently somewhere for his men to get beaten to pulp and now he takes on the Hero. The Hero and the Villain eye each other warily through indistinguishable eyes, hands extended as though squeezing the neck of a really large necked man. They move in circles, first clockwise, then counter clockwise and then clockwise. Into this scenario arrives the good looking Chinese girl wearing a veil. Villain makes sexist jokes leering at her lustily. She plunges at the Villain in an amazing display of Geometric Angles of Limbs beneath Diaphanous Gown and the two manage to chase the Villain away. After the departure of the Villain the girl bows deeply and explains that she is the daughter of the Enlightened One who sits on the Mountains of Silver Mist and that she has been assigned to assist him. The Hero bows back and when he straightens up she has disappeared into the forest. The Hero vows never to bow too deeply again!
Scene three
Our Hero reaches the mountain and sees a languid pool of water called The Lake of a Thousand Tears. Here he is again confronted by the Villain’s men who have made an instantaneous recovery from their earlier thrashings. Another fine display of Geometric Angles of the Limbs this time on the mountainside and then the Hero departs on his way. After negotiating 5678 hair pins bends the Hero is ambushed by the Villain who delivers him a mortal blow with his sword. Hero is left to die and he is peacefully snoring on the road when the apparition reappears scaring the crap out of him again. The apparition reminds the Hero of his task.
Apparition: You have many tasks to accomplish before you sleep like a log that has been washed over by The Raging Dragon Sea!
Hero: Huh?
Apparition: Do you not know that by the time the sun sets over The Realm of Darkness the Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja should be removed from The Imperial Pagoda!!
Hero: Err could you please repeat that!
Apparition: Sigh!
Scene Four
Hero reaches The Imperial Pagoda only to be confronted by the Villain and you are treated to another hour spectacularly boring Geometric Angles of the Limbs which is an exact replica of previous Geometric Angles of the Limbs. This time however the Hero wins the Battle of the Geometric Angle of Limbs and manages to remove The Emerald Sword of the Ninth Ninja from The Imperial Pagoda a fraction of a second before the sun sets over the Realm of Darkness. Phew! Chinese music flows over the credits that sound surprisingly like the rendition of what some orchestra in Los Angeles thinks is Chinese music.
THE END!
This post is dedicated to my brother M who has single handedly kept the Hong Kong movie industry alive and kicking (pun unintended) by buying every$#%@& movie that they come out with!
That’s it folks. Have a nice week and do not forget to donate.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Post Poll Analysis for Dummies
Now that the elections are over and we know who won and who lost, it is time to introspect and analyze why some parties lost while some picked up significant amount of seats and goodwill. Post Poll Analysis or Post Election Analysis is a complex topic to blog about and we need to break down the socio-economic and socio-political factors to gain a better understanding of the same. This tutorial will help you quickly and accurately analyze why some parties lost the elections so that you can prepare a comprehensive analysis to be published in your blog/website which nobody is going to read anyway.
Step one: Pick a defeated political party. Now that you know they have lost, it becomes easy to analyze why they lost.
Step two: Study their election promises and election campaign carefully. You are now ready to offer a definitive post poll analysis on why they lost the elections.
Step three: Carefully take each and every gesture of the party before elections and blame it squarely for their election debacle.
For instance –
1. The XYZ Party’s promise to increase/decrease fertilizer subsidy did not go down well with farmers as it actually works against the interest of the farmers. (Expand a bit with some research over Google)
2. The XYZ Party’s personal attacks on the winning party’s ministerial candidates did not go down well with the voters (like they care).
3. The ABC Party has lost touch with the people and that was another reason for their debacle. (This works all the time.)
4. The party lost the powerful vote bank of youth/women/gays due to their anti youth/women/gay policies. (Get creative, don’t stop at youth/women/gay. You may use other factors like Coca Cola, Oreo Biscuits and Proprietary Software.)
5. The leader of the party was not acceptable to the people and he also did not have the support of party cadres. (Works like a charm. No questions asked)
6. The election campaign of the party turned off voters. For example – People did not like the Web Banners, Posters, Brand of shoe thrown at candidate, Slogans, Bhashans etc. On the other hand the election campaign of the winning party was liked by the voters.
7. Blame the weather e.g lack of monsoons led to destruction of crops or excess monsoons that killed standing crops and led to the disenchantment of farmers.
8. If you are pro Losing Party then blame everything else that can be blamed like the color of the EVM Machines to the uniforms of security personnel. Alternatively if you are pro Winning Party then write that this debacle of the Losing Party is the beginning of their end.
9. Last but not the least DO NOT give credit to the voter for casting the vote in favor of things that matter to him/her. (He/She is of no consequence. Ignore Him/Her)
10. Garnish your analysis with a clever headline like – Reasons for the Failure of XYZ! or Why XYZ lost the Elections! and serve with your name by the side. Argue with commenter’s who may not agree with you, grudgingly accept the criticism of commenter's who uses above technique to present a counter point and enjoy the heated discussions in the comment box with a glass of chilled beer.
You have now arrived as a Post Poll Analyst!! Enjoy your two minutes of fame!
Step one: Pick a defeated political party. Now that you know they have lost, it becomes easy to analyze why they lost.
Step two: Study their election promises and election campaign carefully. You are now ready to offer a definitive post poll analysis on why they lost the elections.
Step three: Carefully take each and every gesture of the party before elections and blame it squarely for their election debacle.
For instance –
1. The XYZ Party’s promise to increase/decrease fertilizer subsidy did not go down well with farmers as it actually works against the interest of the farmers. (Expand a bit with some research over Google)
2. The XYZ Party’s personal attacks on the winning party’s ministerial candidates did not go down well with the voters (like they care).
3. The ABC Party has lost touch with the people and that was another reason for their debacle. (This works all the time.)
4. The party lost the powerful vote bank of youth/women/gays due to their anti youth/women/gay policies. (Get creative, don’t stop at youth/women/gay. You may use other factors like Coca Cola, Oreo Biscuits and Proprietary Software.)
5. The leader of the party was not acceptable to the people and he also did not have the support of party cadres. (Works like a charm. No questions asked)
6. The election campaign of the party turned off voters. For example – People did not like the Web Banners, Posters, Brand of shoe thrown at candidate, Slogans, Bhashans etc. On the other hand the election campaign of the winning party was liked by the voters.
7. Blame the weather e.g lack of monsoons led to destruction of crops or excess monsoons that killed standing crops and led to the disenchantment of farmers.
8. If you are pro Losing Party then blame everything else that can be blamed like the color of the EVM Machines to the uniforms of security personnel. Alternatively if you are pro Winning Party then write that this debacle of the Losing Party is the beginning of their end.
9. Last but not the least DO NOT give credit to the voter for casting the vote in favor of things that matter to him/her. (He/She is of no consequence. Ignore Him/Her)
10. Garnish your analysis with a clever headline like – Reasons for the Failure of XYZ! or Why XYZ lost the Elections! and serve with your name by the side. Argue with commenter’s who may not agree with you, grudgingly accept the criticism of commenter's who uses above technique to present a counter point and enjoy the heated discussions in the comment box with a glass of chilled beer.
You have now arrived as a Post Poll Analyst!! Enjoy your two minutes of fame!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Hindicapped!
There is this guy in our office called SS. SS has been trying to grow a goatee quite unsuccessfully for the past six excruciating months. He does manage to grow a beard but it looks more like an Oxee, Cowiee, Sheepie, Mulee and a Horsey but never a Goatee. I guess you get the picture now from that description. This week he was looking like a Yeti.
Colleague : Can I have a word with you man!
SS (looking up from the keyboard): Sure!
Colleague: Oh my gawd!! The Abominable Snowman!
And he ran away for his life.
We were fed up! So last Sunday we got together in his apartment and while two guys held his hands, two of us shaved his hirsutic ambitions off.
Next day when we all walked into the office people were surprised to a clean shaven SS.
Colleague: Hey SS, teri dhaadi kahan gayi? (Where is your beard?)
Me: We shaved it off!
Colleague (surprised): And he allowed that????
Me: Humne uske saath zabardasthi ki!*
The atmosphere on the floor underwent a dramatic change and people who know Hindi were seen collapsing with laughter like nine pins. Me and my fellow Southies looked around bewildered. These Northies are strange! 8-|
Speaking of office there is a freeze on hiring due to the recession. Team Heads have been advised to hire internally till further notice. The Boss who was desperately trying to get people to join our team from other teams is now flooded with applications. Instead of being happy, he despairs. According to HR instructions, gender diversity has to be maintained at all costs in the office you see. All the applications he received are from males. Poor guy!
Out of the 567 applications he received, 567 applicants out of 567 applicants are willing to work for free if they are allowed to sit next to me. The travails of good looking girls are many I tell you…sigh!
According to a little bird called ‘Sysadmin’ people here are downloading copies of reports like “What makes some people more vulnerable to molestation” etc. by the dozen. Interesting! I saw one copy myself. It says timid people and people with low self esteem are more prone to be victims.
That reminds me…something strange is happening at our floor. Guys from the other floors are seen lurking around the dark corners of the building the moment they spot me heading in that direction. They sport a look of low self esteem and act very timid.
Have a nice week friends.
* p.s. someone just told the meaning of the sentence. How embarrassing!! Meri izzat loot gayi…:(
( For the benefit of clueless Southies like me, Zabardasti means 'to use force or against ones will'. It also has a sidey meaning... 'to molest'. I plead innocence!)
Colleague : Can I have a word with you man!
SS (looking up from the keyboard): Sure!
Colleague: Oh my gawd!! The Abominable Snowman!
And he ran away for his life.
We were fed up! So last Sunday we got together in his apartment and while two guys held his hands, two of us shaved his hirsutic ambitions off.
Next day when we all walked into the office people were surprised to a clean shaven SS.
Colleague: Hey SS, teri dhaadi kahan gayi? (Where is your beard?)
Me: We shaved it off!
Colleague (surprised): And he allowed that????
Me: Humne uske saath zabardasthi ki!*
The atmosphere on the floor underwent a dramatic change and people who know Hindi were seen collapsing with laughter like nine pins. Me and my fellow Southies looked around bewildered. These Northies are strange! 8-|
Speaking of office there is a freeze on hiring due to the recession. Team Heads have been advised to hire internally till further notice. The Boss who was desperately trying to get people to join our team from other teams is now flooded with applications. Instead of being happy, he despairs. According to HR instructions, gender diversity has to be maintained at all costs in the office you see. All the applications he received are from males. Poor guy!
Out of the 567 applications he received, 567 applicants out of 567 applicants are willing to work for free if they are allowed to sit next to me. The travails of good looking girls are many I tell you…sigh!
According to a little bird called ‘Sysadmin’ people here are downloading copies of reports like “What makes some people more vulnerable to molestation” etc. by the dozen. Interesting! I saw one copy myself. It says timid people and people with low self esteem are more prone to be victims.
That reminds me…something strange is happening at our floor. Guys from the other floors are seen lurking around the dark corners of the building the moment they spot me heading in that direction. They sport a look of low self esteem and act very timid.
Have a nice week friends.
* p.s. someone just told the meaning of the sentence. How embarrassing!! Meri izzat loot gayi…:(
( For the benefit of clueless Southies like me, Zabardasti means 'to use force or against ones will'. It also has a sidey meaning... 'to molest'. I plead innocence!)
Monday, April 13, 2009
Six feet under and pushing up Excels,Words and Power Points!
Battling with work, work and more work folks. So posts are going to be delayed. If you don’t like it you can offer to keep my Boss tied up for a couple of weeks. He is a nice guy actually. A little absent minded but his minions like him a lot. But he has his quirks. He thinks that everyone should be like him. I mean he likes to work. We don’t. And he thinks people should be like him. It is not professional to be thrusting your colleagues with your likes and dislikes don’t you think so? We don’t tell him to take it easy or not work hard do we? That’s professionalism for you. My Boss has the most professional team in the whole wide world. If there was an award for professionalism, we would win hands down.
I think the man needs therapy. I wish there was a rehab where we could send Bosses to get help.
Therapist: And Mr. Boss why are you so obsessed with work!
Boss: Because I am the Boss duh!
Therapist: Let’s try this again. Why do you think everyone should be like you?
Boss: Because I am the Boss and I say so duh!
Therapist: Of course you do! But don’t you think that your subordinates have their likes and dislikes too?
Boss: So what!
Therapist: You are not helping dear.
Boss: You are fired!!
Of course the therapy center will have burly guards who will not let him leave without completing the therapy.
Therapist: And how are you feeling today Mr. Boss!
Boss: I feel like wringing your neck.
Therapist (soothingly): Of course you do. But natural to feel that way. You have been in therapy only two days. By next week you will learn to curb your hostility!
Boss: AARRGGHH!
Perhaps they will drug him a bit as part of his therapy...
Therapist: Open your mouth and eat up this pill.
Boss: What is it?
Therapist: Chill pill!
Boss: Why don’t you take it!
Therapist (evenly): I just took one…before I came in here.
Boss: In that case lady, I will take two.
Therapist: You are deliberately being ambiguous aren’t you?
Boss: I haven’t even started yet! Heh heh!
Maybe they will teach him to take things easy...
Therapist: Today we will learn to take it easy and enjoy life.
Boss: And pigs will fly! *snigger*
Therapist: According to the report submitted by your team, they are pretty sure of the same too.
Boss: That pigs will fly?
Therapist: That pigs will fly but you will never learn to take it easy.
Boss: Bummer!
Maybe he will drive try reverse Psychology on the Therapist...
Boss: Do you know that you will have considerable success with me if you are a little bit more professional?
Therapist: How so?
Boss: To begin with, how about we start therapy at 5:30 am!
Therapist: hmmm
Boss: We can have a working Breakfast at 8:30 am and then a working Lunch around 12:30 and then continue our session by 12:45 till 8:30 pm. That way we pack in a good twelve hours of session in a day!
Therapist: Nice try!
Boss (gleefully): But I almost had you there…didn’t I?
Therapist: I have to admit you did!
Boss: I AM GOOD!!!
Perhaps he will get cured...
Therapist: Today we will learn that there is more to life than work.
Boss: You are right! I have been thinking these last few days that I have been making a big deal of this thing called work.
Therapist (pleased): Now that’s a positive sign if I say so myself.
Boss: Work should be secondary in life.
Therapist: Absolutely!
Boss: Never realized how much I have missed out on life due to my obsession with work.
Therapist (beaming): I am so glad! Why Mr Boss, I think you are ready to be discharged!
Boss: muahahAHAHAHA! Err I mean thank you. I feel like a new man. As soon as I am out of here I will wring that Silverine's neck…I mean I am re-prioritizing my life. Thank you so much for all you have done.
Goodbye cruel world! Have a nice week!
I think the man needs therapy. I wish there was a rehab where we could send Bosses to get help.
Therapist: And Mr. Boss why are you so obsessed with work!
Boss: Because I am the Boss duh!
Therapist: Let’s try this again. Why do you think everyone should be like you?
Boss: Because I am the Boss and I say so duh!
Therapist: Of course you do! But don’t you think that your subordinates have their likes and dislikes too?
Boss: So what!
Therapist: You are not helping dear.
Boss: You are fired!!
Of course the therapy center will have burly guards who will not let him leave without completing the therapy.
Therapist: And how are you feeling today Mr. Boss!
Boss: I feel like wringing your neck.
Therapist (soothingly): Of course you do. But natural to feel that way. You have been in therapy only two days. By next week you will learn to curb your hostility!
Boss: AARRGGHH!
Perhaps they will drug him a bit as part of his therapy...
Therapist: Open your mouth and eat up this pill.
Boss: What is it?
Therapist: Chill pill!
Boss: Why don’t you take it!
Therapist (evenly): I just took one…before I came in here.
Boss: In that case lady, I will take two.
Therapist: You are deliberately being ambiguous aren’t you?
Boss: I haven’t even started yet! Heh heh!
Maybe they will teach him to take things easy...
Therapist: Today we will learn to take it easy and enjoy life.
Boss: And pigs will fly! *snigger*
Therapist: According to the report submitted by your team, they are pretty sure of the same too.
Boss: That pigs will fly?
Therapist: That pigs will fly but you will never learn to take it easy.
Boss: Bummer!
Maybe he will drive try reverse Psychology on the Therapist...
Boss: Do you know that you will have considerable success with me if you are a little bit more professional?
Therapist: How so?
Boss: To begin with, how about we start therapy at 5:30 am!
Therapist: hmmm
Boss: We can have a working Breakfast at 8:30 am and then a working Lunch around 12:30 and then continue our session by 12:45 till 8:30 pm. That way we pack in a good twelve hours of session in a day!
Therapist: Nice try!
Boss (gleefully): But I almost had you there…didn’t I?
Therapist: I have to admit you did!
Boss: I AM GOOD!!!
Perhaps he will get cured...
Therapist: Today we will learn that there is more to life than work.
Boss: You are right! I have been thinking these last few days that I have been making a big deal of this thing called work.
Therapist (pleased): Now that’s a positive sign if I say so myself.
Boss: Work should be secondary in life.
Therapist: Absolutely!
Boss: Never realized how much I have missed out on life due to my obsession with work.
Therapist (beaming): I am so glad! Why Mr Boss, I think you are ready to be discharged!
Boss: muahahAHAHAHA! Err I mean thank you. I feel like a new man. As soon as I am out of here I will wring that Silverine's neck…I mean I am re-prioritizing my life. Thank you so much for all you have done.
Goodbye cruel world! Have a nice week!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Call to Duty!
The State Government here has announced a unique scheme that enables ‘ordinary’ citizens like you and me to take part in nation building in a more intimate manner than the present passionless participation by way of paying taxes only. Now, you will all argue that you pay your taxes with a lot of passion and vehemence and ill will…and I agree. But this novel scheme dear friends is just the ticket to good governance and a Golden State. Finally 'you' my dear friends will play a crucial role in the day to day functioning of your city, village and town!!
I was fortunate to meet and interview the Minister who has introduced this scheme at his office today. Here are some excerpts from the interview.
Me: Namaskara Minister avarugalu! At the outset let me tell you that your new scheme is indeed a path breaking idea in modern governance!
Minister: Thank you! Thank you! I am a humble public servant wonly heh heh
Me: Could you tell us something about this new idea that allows the ordinary citizen play a pivotal role in the day to day governance of the State?
Minster: Khanditha (sure)!! The new scheme is called “Adopt a Government School!!!”
Me: Fantastic!
Minister: Heh heh thank you, thank you! We are like this wonly!
Me: And how does an ordinary citizen go about adopting a school?
Minister: Ah! It is very simple actually! All that a citizen has to do is choose a school and donate an amount and the money will be used for the running of the school wonly!
Me: Excellent idea Sir! This would indeed alleviate the misery err I mean the problems in government schools.
Minister: Heh heh the humble idea was mine wonly! I now propose to expand the scope of this project!
Me: Think of the possibilities Sir. You can have “Adopt a Village” and “Adopt a Forest”….the possibilities!! You are a genius Sir!!
Minister: Err well ahem thank you. Our next project will be “Adopt a Government Hospital”
Me: Hmmm that sounds good too. This will ensure that the poor get better treatment and the hospital better facilities!
Minister: Exactly! Then we plan to introduce “Adopt a Police Station”
Me: That's wonderful. I guess public participation will make them less corrupt err I mean more efficient!
Minister: Ahem...by adopt I mean a member of the public pays for its upkeep wonly you see!
Me: And what about the government?
Minister (smoothly): We will take care of the funds…I mean administration!
Me: Hmmm
Minister (quickly): Think of the public works we can undertake with the money saved on these institutions!
Me: I have to concede that you are right there!
Minister (bowing): Humble thanks wonly! Don’t you want to hear of the other things that will come under the purview of this scheme soon?
Me: Of course!
Minister: After we have put up all government institutions for adoption, we will introduce “Adopt a Lamp Post!!”
Me: What!!
Minister: Followed by “Adopt a Lamp post Tube light/Sodium Vapor Lamp”
Me: Huh!
Minister (earnestly): Do you blog?
Me: Blog? Err what’s that?
Minister: Never mind. But if you did, you could adopt a stretch of power line in any part of the State and we will allow you to advertise your blog or website on it absolutely free!!!
Me: Yikes!
Minister: And that would come under our “Adopt a Stretch of Electricity Wire” scheme!
Me (sarcastically): Great.
Minister: That will soon be followed by “Adopt a Stretch of Road” and “Adopt a Public Tap” and “Adopt a garbage heap” or “Adopt a Traffic Copper” or “Adopt a stretch of a Flyover” or "Adopt a Manhole." The possibilities like you said, are endless!!
Me (dryly): Anything else you have left “uncovered” Sir!
Minister: Hmm let me see. Did I mention “Adopt the Metro Train?"
Me: Groan!
Minister (wagging a finger): You don’t worry your head girl. We will ensure all governmental responsibilities are covered by you all heh heh!
Me: I am sure you would Sir. You will have a lot of free time to do that I can see.
Minister: All in a days work of a humble public servant ma'am!
Me: Thank you Sir for your valuable time. I will see myself out!
Minister: Heh heh thank you for your visit. By the way, on you way out you can choose to “Adopt a govt office table” or “Adopt a govt office cupboard” or…
Me (hastily): I get the picture Sir. But no thank you...there is a sewage blockage near my house. I think I will adopt that for now.
Minister: Whatay spirit! *sniff* We need more people like you to make our State the Golden State of our country! Shabash!!
Me: Thank you...Sir...I think! :-S
I was fortunate to meet and interview the Minister who has introduced this scheme at his office today. Here are some excerpts from the interview.
Me: Namaskara Minister avarugalu! At the outset let me tell you that your new scheme is indeed a path breaking idea in modern governance!
Minister: Thank you! Thank you! I am a humble public servant wonly heh heh
Me: Could you tell us something about this new idea that allows the ordinary citizen play a pivotal role in the day to day governance of the State?
Minster: Khanditha (sure)!! The new scheme is called “Adopt a Government School!!!”
Me: Fantastic!
Minister: Heh heh thank you, thank you! We are like this wonly!
Me: And how does an ordinary citizen go about adopting a school?
Minister: Ah! It is very simple actually! All that a citizen has to do is choose a school and donate an amount and the money will be used for the running of the school wonly!
Me: Excellent idea Sir! This would indeed alleviate the misery err I mean the problems in government schools.
Minister: Heh heh the humble idea was mine wonly! I now propose to expand the scope of this project!
Me: Think of the possibilities Sir. You can have “Adopt a Village” and “Adopt a Forest”….the possibilities!! You are a genius Sir!!
Minister: Err well ahem thank you. Our next project will be “Adopt a Government Hospital”
Me: Hmmm that sounds good too. This will ensure that the poor get better treatment and the hospital better facilities!
Minister: Exactly! Then we plan to introduce “Adopt a Police Station”
Me: That's wonderful. I guess public participation will make them less corrupt err I mean more efficient!
Minister: Ahem...by adopt I mean a member of the public pays for its upkeep wonly you see!
Me: And what about the government?
Minister (smoothly): We will take care of the funds…I mean administration!
Me: Hmmm
Minister (quickly): Think of the public works we can undertake with the money saved on these institutions!
Me: I have to concede that you are right there!
Minister (bowing): Humble thanks wonly! Don’t you want to hear of the other things that will come under the purview of this scheme soon?
Me: Of course!
Minister: After we have put up all government institutions for adoption, we will introduce “Adopt a Lamp Post!!”
Me: What!!
Minister: Followed by “Adopt a Lamp post Tube light/Sodium Vapor Lamp”
Me: Huh!
Minister (earnestly): Do you blog?
Me: Blog? Err what’s that?
Minister: Never mind. But if you did, you could adopt a stretch of power line in any part of the State and we will allow you to advertise your blog or website on it absolutely free!!!
Me: Yikes!
Minister: And that would come under our “Adopt a Stretch of Electricity Wire” scheme!
Me (sarcastically): Great.
Minister: That will soon be followed by “Adopt a Stretch of Road” and “Adopt a Public Tap” and “Adopt a garbage heap” or “Adopt a Traffic Copper” or “Adopt a stretch of a Flyover” or "Adopt a Manhole." The possibilities like you said, are endless!!
Me (dryly): Anything else you have left “uncovered” Sir!
Minister: Hmm let me see. Did I mention “Adopt the Metro Train?"
Me: Groan!
Minister (wagging a finger): You don’t worry your head girl. We will ensure all governmental responsibilities are covered by you all heh heh!
Me: I am sure you would Sir. You will have a lot of free time to do that I can see.
Minister: All in a days work of a humble public servant ma'am!
Me: Thank you Sir for your valuable time. I will see myself out!
Minister: Heh heh thank you for your visit. By the way, on you way out you can choose to “Adopt a govt office table” or “Adopt a govt office cupboard” or…
Me (hastily): I get the picture Sir. But no thank you...there is a sewage blockage near my house. I think I will adopt that for now.
Minister: Whatay spirit! *sniff* We need more people like you to make our State the Golden State of our country! Shabash!!
Me: Thank you...Sir...I think! :-S
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Modern day Sindbads!
Jose my cousin brother was a distraught man. He looked haggard, his face drawn and white and unshaven. He had that hunted look on his face of people being chased by Bank Collectors. Well… I don’t know how such people look but I am guessing here. Don’t be so judgmental now! Jose dropped in home for the weekend and my mom gasped when she saw her favorite nephew looking a shadow of his former self. After she had tidied him up and fed him and fussed over him, we heard Jose’s dukh bhari kahani.
Jose lives in a one room apartment in Chennai. He was a direct placement from an Engineering college into one of the IT companies there. One fine day, he got a call from his long forgotten Kindergarten buddy. Buddy, lets call him Thomas, was trying desperately to get in touch with him.
Thomas: Are you Jose from St. Josephs School?
Jose: No!
Thomas: From St. Xavier’s?
Jose: No!
Thomas: St. Aloysius perhaps?
Jose: No, Rajagiri actually!
Thomas: Ah! Then you are the Jose I am looking for. I was your classmate in Kindergarten you know.
Jose: hmmm I don’t remember any Thomas in my class.
Thomas: A class in a Kerala school without a Thomas? LOL!!! Not possible!
Jose: What do you want?
Thomas: Well…my younger brother is coming to Chennai for his first job. He needs accommodation for a few days till he finds his own. It will be just a few days!
Jose: hmm I …
Thomas: It’s settled then. Tinto will be there in some time. Bye
Jose: But…
Thomas: *SLAM*
Next minute there as a knock on the door. When Jose opened the door a two hundred pounder of a guy walked in with his luggage and deposited the same on the floor with a thud, before collapsing on the sofa.
Tinto: Endhoru choodu! (It is very hot)
Jose: Hi!
Tinto: Please put on the fan!
Jose: err yes! Sure!
Tinto: *phew*
Late in the evening as Jose made dinner, Tinto woke up from his siesta and lumbered into the tiny kitchen,
Tinto: Cheta, what are you cooking?
Jose: Rice and Sambhar!
Tinto: Have you any beef in the house?
Jose: I think there is some in the fridge!
Tinto: Would you like some Beef Fry to go with that rice?
Jose (brightening up): Yes!! I would love some!!
Tinto: Great! Make it spicy okay? I love my Beef Fry spicy!
Later in the night when Jose was cleaning up after a dinner of Rice, Sambhar and Beef Fry, Tinto walked in.
Tinto: Cheta where do I sleep?
Jose: I have an extra mattress and…
Tinto: Great! Nice of you to sleep on the mattress.
Jose: But…
Tinto: Good Night!
Much later in the night as poor Jose tossed and turned on the mattress on the floor, Tinto got up and woke him up from his misery!
Tinto: Cheta are you feeling hot?
Jose: Not particularly!
Tinto: Then I guess you wouldn’t mind putting off the fan!
Jose: But…
Tinto: Thanks!
Jose tossed and turned and when it became unbearably hot, went to the verandah and lay down, where he slept, swatted mosquitoes covered himself with blanket and fanned himself with a newspaper (not necessarily in that order he says). Around 2 am Tinto woke him up again from the miserable routine.
“Cheta I think I hear a burglar” he said in a fearful whisper. “That’s just the neighbor’s pet monkey” reassured Jose snuggling into the sheet. “No, I swear I saw him jumping to our roof” said Tinto whispering hoarsely. Jose sighed and went out groggily to tell Kannan to stop jumping on the roof and be a good boy when out of the blue a stick ran blows on his back. Not to be outdone Jose lunged at the attacker with the choicest Kung Fu and Karate moves he had seen on TV. A fierce battle ensured with neither the attacker nor Jose really sure what they were fighting for, as the attacker spoke Tamil and Jose is yet to learn Tamil. By the time the neighbors had separated the two, it was dawn and Jose and his landlord beheld each other in absolute disbelief.
By now the landlord was pretty sure that it was Jose who comes sneaking in the night to see his daughter and asked him to move out. Jose cannot imagine ANYONE leave alone himself, running after the landlord’s daughter who looks like an obese Hippopotamus with a cleft palate.
Tinto was then invited to take over as tenant and Jose found another place to live. Peace was restored in Jose’s life or so he thought when the phone rang. It was Tinto.
Jose is back to sleeping on the floor on the mattress while Tinto occupies the bed. There is no Kannan in this house. But the landlord’s has a son called Karthik and a cat called Kummi.
To cut a rather long story short, Tinto has been asked by the landlord to take over the house
And Jose is looking for another house.
( p.s a certain gentleman and his three children have been warned of dire consequences if they so much as smile at someone's nephews plight. For comic relief they use the garden. Which reminds me I need to go to the garden urgently now. Have a nice week folks!)
Jose lives in a one room apartment in Chennai. He was a direct placement from an Engineering college into one of the IT companies there. One fine day, he got a call from his long forgotten Kindergarten buddy. Buddy, lets call him Thomas, was trying desperately to get in touch with him.
Thomas: Are you Jose from St. Josephs School?
Jose: No!
Thomas: From St. Xavier’s?
Jose: No!
Thomas: St. Aloysius perhaps?
Jose: No, Rajagiri actually!
Thomas: Ah! Then you are the Jose I am looking for. I was your classmate in Kindergarten you know.
Jose: hmmm I don’t remember any Thomas in my class.
Thomas: A class in a Kerala school without a Thomas? LOL!!! Not possible!
Jose: What do you want?
Thomas: Well…my younger brother is coming to Chennai for his first job. He needs accommodation for a few days till he finds his own. It will be just a few days!
Jose: hmm I …
Thomas: It’s settled then. Tinto will be there in some time. Bye
Jose: But…
Thomas: *SLAM*
Next minute there as a knock on the door. When Jose opened the door a two hundred pounder of a guy walked in with his luggage and deposited the same on the floor with a thud, before collapsing on the sofa.
Tinto: Endhoru choodu! (It is very hot)
Jose: Hi!
Tinto: Please put on the fan!
Jose: err yes! Sure!
Tinto: *phew*
Late in the evening as Jose made dinner, Tinto woke up from his siesta and lumbered into the tiny kitchen,
Tinto: Cheta, what are you cooking?
Jose: Rice and Sambhar!
Tinto: Have you any beef in the house?
Jose: I think there is some in the fridge!
Tinto: Would you like some Beef Fry to go with that rice?
Jose (brightening up): Yes!! I would love some!!
Tinto: Great! Make it spicy okay? I love my Beef Fry spicy!
Later in the night when Jose was cleaning up after a dinner of Rice, Sambhar and Beef Fry, Tinto walked in.
Tinto: Cheta where do I sleep?
Jose: I have an extra mattress and…
Tinto: Great! Nice of you to sleep on the mattress.
Jose: But…
Tinto: Good Night!
Much later in the night as poor Jose tossed and turned on the mattress on the floor, Tinto got up and woke him up from his misery!
Tinto: Cheta are you feeling hot?
Jose: Not particularly!
Tinto: Then I guess you wouldn’t mind putting off the fan!
Jose: But…
Tinto: Thanks!
Jose tossed and turned and when it became unbearably hot, went to the verandah and lay down, where he slept, swatted mosquitoes covered himself with blanket and fanned himself with a newspaper (not necessarily in that order he says). Around 2 am Tinto woke him up again from the miserable routine.
“Cheta I think I hear a burglar” he said in a fearful whisper. “That’s just the neighbor’s pet monkey” reassured Jose snuggling into the sheet. “No, I swear I saw him jumping to our roof” said Tinto whispering hoarsely. Jose sighed and went out groggily to tell Kannan to stop jumping on the roof and be a good boy when out of the blue a stick ran blows on his back. Not to be outdone Jose lunged at the attacker with the choicest Kung Fu and Karate moves he had seen on TV. A fierce battle ensured with neither the attacker nor Jose really sure what they were fighting for, as the attacker spoke Tamil and Jose is yet to learn Tamil. By the time the neighbors had separated the two, it was dawn and Jose and his landlord beheld each other in absolute disbelief.
By now the landlord was pretty sure that it was Jose who comes sneaking in the night to see his daughter and asked him to move out. Jose cannot imagine ANYONE leave alone himself, running after the landlord’s daughter who looks like an obese Hippopotamus with a cleft palate.
Tinto was then invited to take over as tenant and Jose found another place to live. Peace was restored in Jose’s life or so he thought when the phone rang. It was Tinto.
Jose is back to sleeping on the floor on the mattress while Tinto occupies the bed. There is no Kannan in this house. But the landlord’s has a son called Karthik and a cat called Kummi.
To cut a rather long story short, Tinto has been asked by the landlord to take over the house
And Jose is looking for another house.
( p.s a certain gentleman and his three children have been warned of dire consequences if they so much as smile at someone's nephews plight. For comic relief they use the garden. Which reminds me I need to go to the garden urgently now. Have a nice week folks!)
Monday, February 02, 2009
In the line of ire
A Prominent Journalist (PJ) working for a television news channel owned by a bearded man has just sued one of our own dear friends for - you wont believe it- voicing his opinion in his personal blog! The PJ feels that just because a person has a blog, does not mean he should write what he feels. "He can always post pictures!!" she exclaimed animatedly. The bearded man nodded in agreement. According to the PJ “only Journalists should be allowed to voice or pen down their opinion. The others should just shut up and listen…preferably to Yen Dee TV.” Boogle, the company that owns Flog Spot were not available for comment but a company spokesperson confirmed that Registration of Flogs have almost tripled overnight. So peoples we all have to very careful about what we put in our blogs and must not in any ways pointedly write about anyone or anything unless our name rhymes with Murk Ha Butt.
Anyways lets leave that aside and concentrate on the post of the week. This week I thought I will bring you a round up of news from around the country and the world, unlike the jabber I usually put in here. This post I hope will open your eyes to the possibilities err I mean to the happenings around us.
1. The war in Hiri Panka has considerably increased the temperature of Jennai a city in Manil Padu. Lawyers in this city have decided to go on a rampage to protest the Hindian government’s heinous policy of non interference in another country’s internal affairs. "This is irresponsible and violates every principles of justice" said the lawyers in righteous anger.
2. The Chief Election Commissioner Mr Comepalaswamy has asked the government to remove Mr Davin Pawla from the post of Election Commissioner. The government has given the suggestion due consideration and thrown it in the nearest dust bin.
3. Meanwhile Tackistan is expected to communicate the results of its investigations into the Hindian Governments investigations into the 27/12 attack in Tumbai. Right now they are weighing their words. It is rumored that they are rather heavy!
4. In a news that gladdened the cockles of this reporters heart, Asatyam Computers, informed it employees that their salaries had been credited to their bank accounts. Personally this reporter feels that the employees should get together and whip the tainted a*** of their ex CEO Mr Kaju Kamalingam for endangering the company without a thought to the future of the thousands of people it employs directly and indirectly, not to mention the beating it gave to the credibility of Hindian companies!
5. Hindia is considering tightening rules as more and more Mangladeshis are found to be overstaying their welcome in the country. The Home Ministry has asked for suggestions from the External Affairs ministry on how to ensure that visitor from the country do not overstay. A ministry official said under conditions of anonymity "As if we have a clue LOL!!!" He was seen ROFL after the statement.
6. The scion of the Bandhi family, Mr Bahul Bandhi has said that speaking from personal experience he can confidently say that the VeeJayPea’s plot to divide and rule the country will not work. The VeeJayPea leadership have refused to comment on the same but it is learnt that an inquiry has been ordered into the leakage of classified information from the party office.
7. A new Follywood film will give viewers a ring side view of the industry says a news report. The script will of course be contrived like most Follywood scripts. “If viewers want the reality, they should join Follywood” chuckled Mr Yarnwala a Follywood scriptwriter. Then he dissolved into laughter giving his 400 pound frame a much needed workout.
8. And finally news from the sporting arena. The Eye See See has withdrawn the Champs Trophy from Tackistan citing security concerns. However the Eye See See has assured Tackistan that it will ensure that international cricket is played in the country provided the venue of the match is outside Tackistan.
This news report post was bought to you by Cilverine the alter ego of Silverine who has err retired from blogging...for now.
Anyways lets leave that aside and concentrate on the post of the week. This week I thought I will bring you a round up of news from around the country and the world, unlike the jabber I usually put in here. This post I hope will open your eyes to the possibilities err I mean to the happenings around us.
1. The war in Hiri Panka has considerably increased the temperature of Jennai a city in Manil Padu. Lawyers in this city have decided to go on a rampage to protest the Hindian government’s heinous policy of non interference in another country’s internal affairs. "This is irresponsible and violates every principles of justice" said the lawyers in righteous anger.
2. The Chief Election Commissioner Mr Comepalaswamy has asked the government to remove Mr Davin Pawla from the post of Election Commissioner. The government has given the suggestion due consideration and thrown it in the nearest dust bin.
3. Meanwhile Tackistan is expected to communicate the results of its investigations into the Hindian Governments investigations into the 27/12 attack in Tumbai. Right now they are weighing their words. It is rumored that they are rather heavy!
4. In a news that gladdened the cockles of this reporters heart, Asatyam Computers, informed it employees that their salaries had been credited to their bank accounts. Personally this reporter feels that the employees should get together and whip the tainted a*** of their ex CEO Mr Kaju Kamalingam for endangering the company without a thought to the future of the thousands of people it employs directly and indirectly, not to mention the beating it gave to the credibility of Hindian companies!
5. Hindia is considering tightening rules as more and more Mangladeshis are found to be overstaying their welcome in the country. The Home Ministry has asked for suggestions from the External Affairs ministry on how to ensure that visitor from the country do not overstay. A ministry official said under conditions of anonymity "As if we have a clue LOL!!!" He was seen ROFL after the statement.
6. The scion of the Bandhi family, Mr Bahul Bandhi has said that speaking from personal experience he can confidently say that the VeeJayPea’s plot to divide and rule the country will not work. The VeeJayPea leadership have refused to comment on the same but it is learnt that an inquiry has been ordered into the leakage of classified information from the party office.
7. A new Follywood film will give viewers a ring side view of the industry says a news report. The script will of course be contrived like most Follywood scripts. “If viewers want the reality, they should join Follywood” chuckled Mr Yarnwala a Follywood scriptwriter. Then he dissolved into laughter giving his 400 pound frame a much needed workout.
8. And finally news from the sporting arena. The Eye See See has withdrawn the Champs Trophy from Tackistan citing security concerns. However the Eye See See has assured Tackistan that it will ensure that international cricket is played in the country provided the venue of the match is outside Tackistan.
This news report post was bought to you by Cilverine the alter ego of Silverine who has err retired from blogging...for now.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The ol' Tree House
Ze fine print: is not working as Blogger refuses to go into compose mode! So I am absolved muahahahaa! Offers to teach me HTML are hereby refused.
Reading about the Taj Mahal Hotel and the significance of some buildings to people, I am reminded of an edifice that is as venerable and as beloved to me and my friends, as the Taj Mahal Hotel is to the rich and famous err I mean ordinary Indians. The edifice that I am talking about is the Tree House our Dad fashioned out of a plywood carton for us when we were small. It has given me and my friends’ hours of cramped pleasure and played host to several of our tea parties, snack-ins, sulk-ins, cry-ins, sleep-ins, sneak-ins to read comics etc etc. The building has lost some of its former glory…correction, most of its former glory actually….okay to be completely truthful it has lost all its glory and plywood to the ravages of time and a determined little girl and her friends and several attempts by my ammachi to pull it down and take it to Kerala to serve as a kozhikoodu (chicken coup).
All that is left of the structure is a few planks that were the floor at one time and a few planks that made up the walls and the roof. I have some lovely memories attached to the tree house. My dogs have some horrible err nice memories attached to the tree house. I remember how my doggies would cringe the moment I said ‘tree house’ and would run away and hide. It gave me great pleasure to chase them and drag them out of their hiding places and haul them up whining, to the tree house. Those were the days…sigh.
There was this time that a bunch of honey bees took over the tree house. My Dad announced that we could not use the tree house till the present tenants had vacated. This made me mad and my second bro M madder. This meant that me and my friends would come in the way of his silly games instead of sitting safely out of earshot in the tree house. So he and his friends decided to smoke out the bees like they had seen the local bee keepers do. They piled up some dry twigs and grass and stuff under the tree house and set it on fire. The entire house burnt down. But the tree house and its occupants remained unfazed. Later in the day, as my parents collected what they could from the charred remains of the house, he i.e my brother was heard remarking to his friend that they should have considered wind direction before lighting the fire. His friends reply was lost in the wind as he fled at top speed with my enraged Dad in hot pursuit.
The tree house was fashioned out of the plywood carton that housed the washing machine my Dad had bought down from the Middle East. It was a roomy carton you know, the type that can house a washing machine, a fridge, a car, six double cots, three televisions, a dining table set, a sofa set, several wall to wall cupboards, two blenders, several tonnes of books, crockery, furnishings and a huge barbecue set and still look like it was carrying only a Washing Machine. The Customs never suspected a thing and waved my Dad on. We furnished an entire house when it was unpacked and even now, there are chances that you may find a Two in One or a Rotisserie Grill or a Casio if you look carefully in between the plywood boards. The other day my little cousin brother found a toaster. It was still in good condition and working. We shook our heads in amazement and promptly threw it in the dustbin.
After the evacuation of the carton which took roughly two months and six pairs of hired hands, the carpenter resized the sides, redid the floor with sturdier wood and added a roof to make it look like a house. The door on each side was a gap made by removing a couple of planks of plywood and viola…our tree house was ready. The tree house was housed on the forking branches of a horribly deformed Banyan tree that grew in every possible direction but up, leaving us with lots of low hanging sit-able branches. It could seat four little girls and two dogs at a time. Guests sat on the branches and depending on who were very nice to me, they would actually get an invite to sit inside the tree house. We had lots of doll parties there and later as we grew older we simply sat around on the branches and talked about the latest fashion, guys, expensive cosmetics, guys, orthodox parents, guys, designer shoes, guys, strict Nuns, guys, tough exams, guys, stupid teacher, guys and so on.
Those were wonderful days and the tree house reminds me of carefree times when our greatest worry was a honeybee attack and an AK 47 was a couple of alphabets and numerals. Pakistan was the nation to the upper left of India not to be confused with Iran a nation we were told we would not be studying due to lack of time to finish the Geography portions. We heaved a sigh of relief. That was one capital, one flag, many crops, many more minerals, several industries, types of agricultural produce, major ports and cities, GNP, type of government, national religion, language and sport…less to cram. Whew!! Besides we did not have to by heart the names of its neighbors too. Whatay relief!!!!
Today the Tree House is a remnant of its old self. Its splintering edifice is hidden by the overgrowth. The banyan tree has since learnt that it is a tree and not a creeper and has grown in stature and girth. The sit-able branches are now not so sit-table unless we hire a really tall ladder and an exterminator to rid the tree of its entire insect eco system. According to the gardener it looks like a bhoot bangla on a Banyan tree. He finds that mighty funny and cracks up every time the old plywood of the tree house creaks in the wind! The maid in the house thinks it is not a good omen to keep a Tree House on a Banyan tree. According to her no self respecting ghost will like to be seen alive in it. I have since hammered a couple of more nails to ensure that it stays on the tree. My bedroom overlooks the Banyan tree you see. Besides you do not want any peeping tom-ghosts peering through your window do you? brrr
The other day an incident made us decide that the tree house remains no matter what the neighbor or the maid or the gardener says. It so happened that my Dad’s old enemy, the forest department wallah came a visiting to check on the trees in the house. He drops in randomly whenever he feels like irritating my Dad.
Now if you are wondering what the Forest Dept (FD) has to do with our trees, think again. Every tree you plant outside or close to your premises it automatically becomes the property of the FD. It doesn’t matter if they cannot distinguish a Jackfruit tree from a lamp post. It is still theirs! I suspect they wait till you have bought the seedling, planted it, watered it, fought off pests and tree disease, firewood gatherers, tree robbers etc etc and then, sneak up behind the bushes where I guess they were hiding and watching, and plant a seal on the tree and say “Viola the tree is now OURS hah!!!” And right after that you live in mortal fear. You inspect the tree every day. If it shows any sign of dying, you pack up your bags and migrate, cos the FD is gonna get you and put you in the slammer for damaging a tree that is protected under the rule 456, section C, sub section 1A on page 4567899234 of “The Karnataka Forest Department Rule Book”. (The 900th Edition of the book is on the way with reportedly 5567899234 pages covering the Jackfruit tree alone.)
Now my dad and the FD have a love hate relationship spanning a few decades, several litigations and notices, suites and counter suites.
Court Clerk: Mr P you are hereby directed to appear before the Lower Magistrate for cutting down a Tectona grandis.
Dad: Tectona grandis? What on earth is that!!!
Clerk: A Teak tree!
Dad: But I don’t have a Teak tree!!
Clerk: Oops then I think it must be a Santalum album!
Dad: And what on earth is that!
Clerk: Sandalwood tree
Dad: I don’t have that either!
Clerk: hmm how about Punica granatum, Pomegranate?
Dad: No!
Clerk: Saraca asoca, Ashoka tree?
Dad: #$!%@&*%!!!
Clerk: Okay okay I am going!! Some people are so crabby! Tch tch
Now as the Forest Department wallah walked around inspecting the trees with a I-am-gonna-get-you-air, the old tree house creaked. Forest Department wallah turned a few shades grey and nearly jumped out of his skin. It was late evening you see. The wind blew again and this time good old tree house let out an even longer creak! Forest Department wallah suddenly remembered that he had something urgent to do and scooted out of the house at top speed. He was never seen again.
Nowadays the FD minions skip our house in their rounds. They are definitely not coming to a house with a creepy and creaking Banyan tree that rumor has it is infested with ghosts (origin of rumor err not known). Even a die hard Forest Department wallah will not go near a tree infested with ghosts. The government isn’t paying him enough to do that you see. Suffice to say that peace has returned to our front yard, back yard and other places where we have planted trees. And all because of our good ol Tree House!
Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Prosperous New Year 2009!!
Reading about the Taj Mahal Hotel and the significance of some buildings to people, I am reminded of an edifice that is as venerable and as beloved to me and my friends, as the Taj Mahal Hotel is to the rich and famous err I mean ordinary Indians. The edifice that I am talking about is the Tree House our Dad fashioned out of a plywood carton for us when we were small. It has given me and my friends’ hours of cramped pleasure and played host to several of our tea parties, snack-ins, sulk-ins, cry-ins, sleep-ins, sneak-ins to read comics etc etc. The building has lost some of its former glory…correction, most of its former glory actually….okay to be completely truthful it has lost all its glory and plywood to the ravages of time and a determined little girl and her friends and several attempts by my ammachi to pull it down and take it to Kerala to serve as a kozhikoodu (chicken coup).
All that is left of the structure is a few planks that were the floor at one time and a few planks that made up the walls and the roof. I have some lovely memories attached to the tree house. My dogs have some horrible err nice memories attached to the tree house. I remember how my doggies would cringe the moment I said ‘tree house’ and would run away and hide. It gave me great pleasure to chase them and drag them out of their hiding places and haul them up whining, to the tree house. Those were the days…sigh.
There was this time that a bunch of honey bees took over the tree house. My Dad announced that we could not use the tree house till the present tenants had vacated. This made me mad and my second bro M madder. This meant that me and my friends would come in the way of his silly games instead of sitting safely out of earshot in the tree house. So he and his friends decided to smoke out the bees like they had seen the local bee keepers do. They piled up some dry twigs and grass and stuff under the tree house and set it on fire. The entire house burnt down. But the tree house and its occupants remained unfazed. Later in the day, as my parents collected what they could from the charred remains of the house, he i.e my brother was heard remarking to his friend that they should have considered wind direction before lighting the fire. His friends reply was lost in the wind as he fled at top speed with my enraged Dad in hot pursuit.
The tree house was fashioned out of the plywood carton that housed the washing machine my Dad had bought down from the Middle East. It was a roomy carton you know, the type that can house a washing machine, a fridge, a car, six double cots, three televisions, a dining table set, a sofa set, several wall to wall cupboards, two blenders, several tonnes of books, crockery, furnishings and a huge barbecue set and still look like it was carrying only a Washing Machine. The Customs never suspected a thing and waved my Dad on. We furnished an entire house when it was unpacked and even now, there are chances that you may find a Two in One or a Rotisserie Grill or a Casio if you look carefully in between the plywood boards. The other day my little cousin brother found a toaster. It was still in good condition and working. We shook our heads in amazement and promptly threw it in the dustbin.
After the evacuation of the carton which took roughly two months and six pairs of hired hands, the carpenter resized the sides, redid the floor with sturdier wood and added a roof to make it look like a house. The door on each side was a gap made by removing a couple of planks of plywood and viola…our tree house was ready. The tree house was housed on the forking branches of a horribly deformed Banyan tree that grew in every possible direction but up, leaving us with lots of low hanging sit-able branches. It could seat four little girls and two dogs at a time. Guests sat on the branches and depending on who were very nice to me, they would actually get an invite to sit inside the tree house. We had lots of doll parties there and later as we grew older we simply sat around on the branches and talked about the latest fashion, guys, expensive cosmetics, guys, orthodox parents, guys, designer shoes, guys, strict Nuns, guys, tough exams, guys, stupid teacher, guys and so on.
Those were wonderful days and the tree house reminds me of carefree times when our greatest worry was a honeybee attack and an AK 47 was a couple of alphabets and numerals. Pakistan was the nation to the upper left of India not to be confused with Iran a nation we were told we would not be studying due to lack of time to finish the Geography portions. We heaved a sigh of relief. That was one capital, one flag, many crops, many more minerals, several industries, types of agricultural produce, major ports and cities, GNP, type of government, national religion, language and sport…less to cram. Whew!! Besides we did not have to by heart the names of its neighbors too. Whatay relief!!!!
Today the Tree House is a remnant of its old self. Its splintering edifice is hidden by the overgrowth. The banyan tree has since learnt that it is a tree and not a creeper and has grown in stature and girth. The sit-able branches are now not so sit-table unless we hire a really tall ladder and an exterminator to rid the tree of its entire insect eco system. According to the gardener it looks like a bhoot bangla on a Banyan tree. He finds that mighty funny and cracks up every time the old plywood of the tree house creaks in the wind! The maid in the house thinks it is not a good omen to keep a Tree House on a Banyan tree. According to her no self respecting ghost will like to be seen alive in it. I have since hammered a couple of more nails to ensure that it stays on the tree. My bedroom overlooks the Banyan tree you see. Besides you do not want any peeping tom-ghosts peering through your window do you? brrr
The other day an incident made us decide that the tree house remains no matter what the neighbor or the maid or the gardener says. It so happened that my Dad’s old enemy, the forest department wallah came a visiting to check on the trees in the house. He drops in randomly whenever he feels like irritating my Dad.
Now if you are wondering what the Forest Dept (FD) has to do with our trees, think again. Every tree you plant outside or close to your premises it automatically becomes the property of the FD. It doesn’t matter if they cannot distinguish a Jackfruit tree from a lamp post. It is still theirs! I suspect they wait till you have bought the seedling, planted it, watered it, fought off pests and tree disease, firewood gatherers, tree robbers etc etc and then, sneak up behind the bushes where I guess they were hiding and watching, and plant a seal on the tree and say “Viola the tree is now OURS hah!!!” And right after that you live in mortal fear. You inspect the tree every day. If it shows any sign of dying, you pack up your bags and migrate, cos the FD is gonna get you and put you in the slammer for damaging a tree that is protected under the rule 456, section C, sub section 1A on page 4567899234 of “The Karnataka Forest Department Rule Book”. (The 900th Edition of the book is on the way with reportedly 5567899234 pages covering the Jackfruit tree alone.)
Now my dad and the FD have a love hate relationship spanning a few decades, several litigations and notices, suites and counter suites.
Court Clerk: Mr P you are hereby directed to appear before the Lower Magistrate for cutting down a Tectona grandis.
Dad: Tectona grandis? What on earth is that!!!
Clerk: A Teak tree!
Dad: But I don’t have a Teak tree!!
Clerk: Oops then I think it must be a Santalum album!
Dad: And what on earth is that!
Clerk: Sandalwood tree
Dad: I don’t have that either!
Clerk: hmm how about Punica granatum, Pomegranate?
Dad: No!
Clerk: Saraca asoca, Ashoka tree?
Dad: #$!%@&*%!!!
Clerk: Okay okay I am going!! Some people are so crabby! Tch tch
Now as the Forest Department wallah walked around inspecting the trees with a I-am-gonna-get-you-air, the old tree house creaked. Forest Department wallah turned a few shades grey and nearly jumped out of his skin. It was late evening you see. The wind blew again and this time good old tree house let out an even longer creak! Forest Department wallah suddenly remembered that he had something urgent to do and scooted out of the house at top speed. He was never seen again.
Nowadays the FD minions skip our house in their rounds. They are definitely not coming to a house with a creepy and creaking Banyan tree that rumor has it is infested with ghosts (origin of rumor err not known). Even a die hard Forest Department wallah will not go near a tree infested with ghosts. The government isn’t paying him enough to do that you see. Suffice to say that peace has returned to our front yard, back yard and other places where we have planted trees. And all because of our good ol Tree House!
Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Prosperous New Year 2009!!
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