Laughter : The Best Medicine... (Part IV)

:-)

Laughter : The Best Medicine... (Part III)

Here are a few more of my creations... :-)

Going Top-less...

India seems to have been gripped with a strange but unspoken competition going on within its boundaries. States, cities, organizations, individuals, just about everyone seems to be busy taking on everyone else in a battle of wits. The only catch being, in this battle of wits, everyone appears unarmed !

Just a few weeks back, the management of the famous Mahalaxmi Temple in Kolhapur (Maharashtra) decided to impose a dress-code for the women devotees visiting the temple. But before they could hog the media limelight, some alert ‘social activists’ from the city of Ranchi declared that females who preferred wearing jeans would be greeted with acid attacks. Though these well-meaning ‘social activists’ didn’t confirm that the acid would be that contained in their own skulls.

While just the other day, the professors of a college in Bareilly, denied entrance to female students into the college campus. Why ? Obviously… the girls were dressed in jeans and tops. (More here)

It appears to be a really sorry state for the Indian male. With the females being the center of attraction of all and sundry (right from Guwahati to Mangalore) the Indian male can just sulk in frustration. I mean, a girl who is covered up from head to toe, revealing no more than 15% of her skin gets more raised eyebrows than a poor guy standing topless on the road. Why ? Just because the girl is attired in western clothes on Indian land. So unfair !

According to the management committee of the Mahalaxmi Temple, “it was observed that majority of women visited the temple in western attire. It doesn't look decent and also distracts attention of male devotees.” (More here)

And all this while, I thought a temple was supposed to be for the worship of Gods and Goddesses and They should have been the ones examining the devotees. Not the members of some committee. And shouldn’t the male devotees be concentrating on their devotion to the Gods instead of the girl standing besides them ? Ahhh… but haven’t I always reveled in the bliss of my ignorance !

And strangely, the Mahalaxmi Temple is dedicated to Goddess ‘Shakti’, the goddess of power ! When asked if the temple committee plans similar rules for male devotees, committee members said that there was "no need for dress code for male devotees". Errrr… excuse me, but shouldn’t it be the male devotees who should be properly dressed while visiting a Goddess ?

The professors of the college in Bareilly claimed that “wearing jeans spoils the college environment.” Of course, the male students and the male professors (many of whom themselves were dressed in jeans) would be expecting any and every girl dressed in jeans to break into an ‘item song’ on the campus. Detrimental to the studies… I tell you !!!

Strangely, sometime back the professors of an ‘all-girls’ college in my own city were in the news as they banned jeans for its students. And there weren’t even any male students or professors in that college ! 

And all this while, the ignorant me thought that the issue was about the showing of skin. (exclusively related to females, obviously)

Though, of course, skin show is sacrilege. For a female, that is. A man wearing an ill-fitting t-shirt and shorts is welcome to fold his hands and pray in a temple (I’ve witnessed it many times myself), but not a girl who forgets to cover up her head. I was a bit confused when I saw the male priest of a famous temple performing the ‘aarti’ with just a ‘dhoti’ tied around his waist. The ‘Tissot’ watch on his wrist was obviously ‘western’. Though he didn’t have a baseball cap on his head. Or any other head-gear for that matter. If the dress/decency aspect is to be considered, then how, he was the most eligible person to be nearest to the Goddess was something my idle brain couldn’t comprehend.

So, jeans, shorts or skirts are western. And thus, are strictly forbidden. But why just for girls ? Ohh… boys don’t wear skirts. So, jeans and shorts are fine for boys. But I wonder why don’t boys test the waters by trying out skirts. Maybe that will be fine as well. But as long as one is a good, cultured Indian girl, jeans, shorts and skirts are forbidden. No wonder the young girls from the village ‘Asara’ collectively burnt a bonfire of jeans and other western dresses in favor of a 'directive' dress code by their elders recently. (More here)

When a Sunita Williams walks smartly dressed in a pair of jeans, she is ‘Bharat Ki Beti’.

When a Saina Nehwal wins an Olympic Bronze wearing a short skirt, she is ‘Bharat Ki Shaan’.

Ahhhhh….. where was I ???

Last week while blog-hopping, I stumbled on to a story of a young American girl who has been going around topless in New York State since 1992 to raise awareness that it's legal for a woman to be topless anywhere a guy can be without a shirt. According to her, she was harassed by middle-aged men while debating going topless with passersby (including one man who said topless women are "going against God's law"). So you see, God’s laws are not just a boon to India. They are fortunately available all around the world. But it is in India, that those ‘laws’ can be effectively put into practice (exclusively to females).

August 26^th is ‘International Go Topless Day’. But our society believes in celebrating our ‘top-less-ness’ all the year round. Our top floors are ever so empty !

(Image courtesy : Google Images)

My Lacertilian Adventures...

Summer is here !

Though different people have different preferences for their favorite season, my Mom isn’t particularly fond of summers. That is so, because the scorching heat of the sun drives everyone inside their homes, while the same heat seems to drive lizards out of theirs. During various hours of the day my Mom can be found jumping, screaming and running around at the sight of a lizard while I can be found shooing off lizards of all sizes out of the house for her.

In spite of my repeated attempts Mom refuses to accept my views regarding lizards being sober and harmless creatures. On the contrary, she warns me to have me sent to a mental asylum whenever she notices me trying to train and befriend the lizard which lives below our refrigerator.

My views about lizards, though appearing to be eccentric, are not entirely hypothetical. I found out the usefulness which a lizard can be capable of during my Medical college days.

There used to be a famous annual fair in the city for an entire month or so that used to start in the evening and carried on all through the night. During one of our visits to the fair I found a guy on a pavement, selling fake replicas of animals. I was specially impressed by the replicas of lizards he had. So, finally giving in to my temptation, I bought a fake lizard which looked completely alive until one actually touched it. (which wasn’t something anyone would do if it really looked real ! :P )

I didn’t actually know what to do with it until two days later I saw a probable use. One of my batch mates, who lived in our hostel, was a very naughty fellow. He was short, stout, extremely fair complexioned and a fashion-freak. But he had a huge weakness. Lizards ! The mere mention of the word could make his spine tingle.

Everyday, he used to come up to my room and knock at the door. He used to do that mostly at hours when I was asleep. While I used to groggily open the door, he would quickly hit the electricity switches beside the door, shut the fan, switch on the lights, grin mischievously, and run away laughing.

So, this very day, while I was inspecting the brilliant replica of the fake lizard I had bought, I got an idea. I placed the lizard strategically on the electricity board so that it just spanned the entire row of switches. As expected, the naughty guy came up to my room expecting me to be asleep while I was wide awake waiting for him.

I opened the door a bit more than usual after the knock, and saw his grinning face as he looked at me while hitting the switches. In an instant, he felt something was different. As he looked at the electric board and removed his hand, the strategically placed lizard fell down just as a real lizard would have fallen.

I have heard about how people pale when they are scared. And I never thought a person of such fair complexion could pale any further. But pale he did. And that too in a fraction of milliseconds. I wonder if you can imagine a person trying to swim, kick a football and do a high-jump back-flip all together. But I was treated to witness such a spectacle as he did all that and maybe even more which was beyond my comprehension. And as soon as he returned to the ground, he made a dash for somewhere as far possible as could be from my room. And for the next fifteen minutes or so, the inhabitants of our hostel heard the most spine-chilling shrieks till this guy found a way to make a dash for the open spaces outside the building.

I had become a big fan of my ‘pet lizard’. :-)

A few days later, our small batch of fifteen students was trying to survive a class of evening clinical teaching by a junior resident who seemed to have found the truth about ‘Irritable Bowel Syndrome’ and was bent on imparting the divine knowledge on to us highly uninterested disciples.

I was seated in the second row of chairs while the first row was occupied by most of the girls. The resident was seated opposite to us with just a small table separating us. I thought it a good idea to bring some life into the proceedings when I saw my immediate neighbor borrowing a pen from the girl sitting right in front of me. This caught my attention as I was particularly fond of her. :D

I noticed that she had one of those small purse-like pencil cases in which she used to keep about fifty assorted pens and pencils. As she had handed the entire case to my neighbor to pick out his choice of pen, I quickly reached into my bag for my ‘pet’. I quickly took the case from him, and as he watched on, I strategically placed the fake lizard below a stack of a dozen pens. I zipped it up and told him to return it back to her.

After a few minutes, I asked my neighbor to ask her for a particular colored pen again. And as per my expectations, she decided to find it herself this time. I watched intently as she unzipped the case and dug in to find the desired pen. The only sounds in the room were the incomprehensible blabber of the resident, the ticking of the clock and the heart-beat of my neighbor.

It is strange how sometimes we never learn from experience. Just a couple of days back I had seen a guy freak out as never before, but here I was again, trying something similar in much dangerous circumstances.

And the next moment, there was a loud gasp. I wonder if you have ever heard a gasp. But everyone there did hear it. Which was instantly followed by a colored assortment of pens and pencils flying high up in the air. A couple of them landed on the resident’s head making him shut his mouth and bring an end to the ‘discourse’. While my neighbor got the desired colored pen which actually fell onto his lap.

The resident took off his spectacles and glared at her for an explanation as she tried to catch her breath and told him about a lizard in her pencil-case. The resident merely commented on her brisk reflexes and her ultra-sensitivity towards members of the reptile family and finally announced the dismissal of the class.

As soon as the initial shock subsided, the girl looked back to have my neighbor for an early dinner through her eyes. But he still had the courage to point a shaking finger towards me. The case was immediately settled as she realized that the devil mind behind the adventure was none other than mine, and she turned away and started to collect the contents of her pencil-case.

Though she knew it was a fake lizard, but no one else in the room could find out as I had noticed the lizard falling just beside her chair and which was now safely hidden below my shoe.

Though I never brought this up with her after that, but I take this opportunity here to say a little sorry with a smile. :-)

Ohhh… I just heard Mom scream and call out for me. So I’m off to lizard-shooing business again. Now… where’s the broom gone…….

(Image courtesy : Google Images)

Almost Engaged... !!!

I wonder if you ever found yourself in a situation which, while being funny, left you pretty much shaken and gasping for air. Well, I managed to find myself in one such situation last weekend.

As my younger brother was visiting home after six months we all were really excited. And to top it, his short trip to home included his birthday as well. So, Mom, Dad and me decided to throw a small party on the occasion.

Having decided to keep it a small affair, we invited only close friends and family. And going as per past experiences, we decided not to divulge the reason of the party to the guests in fear of people going overboard with formalities and gifts. (which eventually turned out to be a big mistake !)

So, on the given date and time, my brother, my cousin and I reached the party hall before the scheduled time to check if everything was in order. Other family members followed us in due course of time. We were sitting there waiting for the guests when I saw my eccentric friend trying to find his way in through the glass door. Once he discovered which way the door opened, he came straight towards us with a strange expression on his face.

“OK. So it really is Chicks’ birthday… ?!?!”

“Huh ???” I questioned him.

“When I asked about the way to the hall, the guy at the reception told me about the birthday party. Darn… I thought it was your engagement !!!” He complained.

We all burst into laughter while the expression on his face changed to a more disappointed look. I introduced him to some snacks which took his mind off his silly thoughts and brought an expectant smile on his face.

Soon, people started trickling in and before long, the hall was buzzing with life. I was busy with some animated discussion with my friend when I sensed a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find my uncle (one of Mom’s cousins) standing with a strange smile on his face. I touched his feet while he started…

“Many congratulations ! I have been waiting for this day since so long…” He exclaimed.

“No no. Uncle, it’s Chicks’…” I tried to intervene.

“I’m always right. I told your mom that you’ll be getting married within a year. Ask her if you don’t believe me.” His smile had turned to a big grin.

“You what… ??” I suddenly realized what he was getting on to.

“Uncle, it’s Chicks’ birthday. Not my engagement !” I informed him trying to force a smile on my face.

His mouth was still open when he got this bit of news from me. It remained open except that no more sound emerged from it now.

“There he is.” I pointed out to my brother and turned towards my friends, saving him (and probably myself) any more embarrassment.

I was still thinking about the funny side of it when I saw my aunt (my Dad’s elder cousin) and her husband entering the hall. I quickly rushed to them and had barely touched their feet when she asked…

“Where’s the girl ?”

“What girl ???” I snapped back.

“You’ll never change. I’ll have to ask your mom.” She suddenly spotted my Mom and walked away to meet her ignoring me as if I was the last person on the earth she wanted to talk to at the moment. I now wondered whether it would have been better to let everyone know about the occasion of the party.

I was still watching my aunt’s changing expressions as she talked to my Mom when someone poked me from the back. I turned around to find my youngest aunt with her husband. She quickly stuffed an envelope in my pocket and whispered…

“You didn’t tell me ha… ??? Who’s the lucky girl ??? She’s your batch mate, right ??? See, I always knew. However hard you try to hide, you cannot get away !!!”

And stepping back she then said. “Sorry I got late. They weren’t ready to let me leave the office until I told them it’s my nephew’s engagement. So here I am !!!”

I could feel myself fuming from the ears. And I’m pretty much sure that the changing colors of my face would have given me away if the hall was a bit brightly lit. As the crowd kept getting bigger, every third person would walk up to me to congratulate me and bless the ‘girl’… whoever she was. And I was getting paranoid by the passing second.

It had got to such a point where my thinking brain started getting suspicious. Once long ago, I had read in a mystery novel, where a secret agent is taught by his tutors that there is no such thing as co-incidence. If you keep bumping into the same person or same situations, better run for your life. I now assessed the possibilities of a conspiracy. As I had already made it clear in the past to all of my extended family that they would be left with an absconding boy if they ever tried to force me into an arranged marriage, this would be an ideal trap by them to nail me.

And by now I was concentrating on each group of guests that entered. I had already assessed the best routes of escape if I spotted a bunch of strangers entering the hall accompanying a young girl. My senses were on high alert, ready for action at the required moment.

My already tensed mind was suddenly disturbed by my Dad’s booming voice which announced to the guests the occasion of my brother’s birthday and invited them to the cake-cutting ceremony. On a reflex, I sighed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat on my forehead as I went to find a glass of chilled water.

But on my way I was stopped by another eccentric friend of mine who had just entered the hall with his wife holding a big bunch of roses. With his usual big grin he shook me by the hand and asked…

“Where’s Bhabhi ?”

“Oh you know how hot it is today… ?” I said in a serious tone.

“Yes. So hot.” He agreed.

“You see that swimming pool down there… ?” I pointed to the north-east direction.

“Yes.” He replied straining his neck towards the direction I had pointed.

“Well… she was feeling too hot. So she decided to cool off in the pool till all the guests have arrived.” I said and moved on.

(Image courtesy : Google Images)

A Wasted Talent...

The other night I just accidentally happened to come across the following song/video on Youtube. And instantly, it hit on some very old childhood memories in my mind. Do have a look at what I’m talking about.

Yes. This was a song from an almost non-existent movie from the eighties. But apart from the nice music, this song featured one of the most talented people the Indian entertainment world has ever had. Javed Jaffrey burst onto the Indian Film Industry as the Indian version of Michael Jackson.


I remember first watching him dance on tv in the good old ‘Doordarshan’ days. I hadn’t watched much of Michael Jackson in those pre-cable-television days. So, Javed’s dance moves completely captivated the mind to say the least. But unfortunately, we weren’t able to enjoy more of his unbelievable dance steps as he decided to try his hand at serious acting rather than just dance.

But that too, didn’t get him much more than a few forgettable movies with equally forgettable roles.

I rediscovered him through a tv show which I simply detested at first sight. It was a comical Japanese game show with background commentary in Hindi. But once I sat through an episode of the show (there wasn’t anything else on tv that day, really ! ) I was hooked on to it for dear life.

‘Takeshi’s castle’ became one of my favorite shows not because of its content, but merely because of the marvelous commentary by Javed. It simply overflowed with extreme wit. And it would always end up with me and my brother in splits. Something only a really talented artist is capable of.

Being the son of the famous comedian of yesteryears, Jagdeep, humor comes to Javed naturally. He is the master of coming up with unmatchable witty comments at the drop of a hat. And that is something that signifies immense grey-matter in the head. His realistic and extremely comic impersonations of such a huge variety of characters can leave anyone crutching their tummies and begging for mercy.

I loved the movie ‘Dhamaal’ mostly for the wonderful character of ‘Manav Srivastava’ played by Javed.


It’s a pity that the Indian entertainment industry wasted such a matchless talent not just in dance, but also in comedy and serious acting. But Javed still remains one of my favorite entertainers.

(Picture credits : Google Images)

What Bloggers Say vs What Bloggers Mean...

The following cartoons were taken from the January edition of Kadzilla's Lounge.

Multiple credits :

1. The text content contributed by Pramathesh Borkotoky, Executive Editor of 'Fried Eye'.
2. Visualized as Cartoon strips by Kadambari, Chief Editor of 'Kadzilla's Lounge'.
3. Cartoons designed by yours truly.


(Please right-click and open the image in a new tab to view it in its original size.)

*****

Rants of a Retard...

“What ?? You still haven’t watched it ?”

“No ! Just been busy with things… ”

“Oh come on. I thought you loved comedies. This one is a masterpiece. You cannot miss it.”

“Umm… Yeah… Hmm…” I replied.

The above was just a part of the small pleasantries I exchanged with a family-friend over our dinner plates at a party recently. This family-friend, who is just about my age, was trying his best to pull me into the conversation and get me to talk. But since I’m the perpetual listener and also, when there’s food at hand, my mouth turns into a one-way passage, he was having a real tough time getting me to speak. So, in what seemed like an act of desperation, he brought up the topic of a movie.

Those who know me properly, know rather well that I don’t watch any new Hindi movies. And certainly not in a movie-theatre. A few of my mates at college learnt this the hard way when they planned the celebration of one of our friend’s birthday which included a movie followed by a grand dinner. The only snag in all the planning was that I wasn’t informed about the movie bit. Well, they managed to sell off my ticket outside the theatre premises in the end. But not before having a harrowing time trying to coax/plead me into entering the theatre.

Coming back to the earlier discussion, this family-friend was going over the top about a new movie which had something to do with people acquiring intestinal infection in the city of Delhi. Something about which I have been ridiculed by people more than a few times about liking comedies but having still not seen this one.

Over the past month or so, I had read, heard and been updated (on Facebook) a bit too much about this particular movie. Almost half of my friends on Facebook had used words like ‘awesome’, ‘loved it’, ‘coolest movie ever’, ‘laughed till I cried’, ‘mind-blowing’, and other words to that effect to describe what they saw. Obviously, I was intrigued. So while talking to one of my friends who is a movie freak, I asked him. To which he curtly replied.

“Yes. I watched it. And NO !!! It’s not for you !”

Knowing how well my friends know me, I didn’t need a second opinion about whether to watch the movie, even if people labeled it as the best comedy ever, or not. But as I hopped onto one review after another on the several blogs I regularly read, I realized how I missed those statutory warning many of my friends had included in their rave reviews on Facebook, some of which clearly mentioned not to take kids along to watch the movie.

Now, what comedy would it be which wouldn’t amuse kids ? I never knew there would be things funny enough only to make adults laugh. So when I make myself remember that I’m well past the legal age of adulthood, I’m still very stymied when I try to think of things that would be considered humorous only for grown ups.

Which ultimately forces me to accept the fact that I’m a retard as far as the sense of humor is concerned.


After going through the countless reviews about the movie, I came to know that this is another of the many works of Aamir Khan. (Please correct me if I’m wrong) And so, it had to be a masterpiece. People say that, as always, he has managed to come up with something different. But they also say that the movie portrays the reality of today’s life.

Ummm… So how is reality different ??? (My retarded mind trying harder to make some sense.)

As per the reviews I’ve read, the movie is about three bachelors living their life out in the city of Delhi. And the movie doesn’t hold back in portraying any of the waste material which is either in their mind which exits through their mouths or the waste matter in their bodies which exits as well.

I try to find humor in such scenarios. But my retarded mind refuses to budge. Ohhh… when will I grow up enough to be able to laugh my head off when I see people abusing each other ?? Or at the sight of events that take place inside a loo ?? Surely the plot must be full of hilarious situations consisting of some un-mentionable acts. But as they put it… it is aimed at matured audiences. Not for retards like me.

So I’ve decided to give this amazing movie a skip. (something which would have happened otherwise too if it wouldn’t have been for such delirious reviews) Even though it’s one of Aamir Khan’s works (who has given us oldies like Dil Hai Ki Manta Nahin, Hum Hain Raahi Pyar Ke and the one and only Andaz Apna Apna) I’m not keen to give it even a passing look.


No. I’m not one of those intolerants who take up arms and run off to tear down posters and burn effigies. I agree that everyone has their own tastes for humor. Just that I have still to grow up a lot to start recognizing such a taste. Because watching the actions which go on below people’s pelvises, whether in the bathroom or the bedroom, doesn’t tickle my humerus one bit. Sad, but true !!!

But, this poor soul who is a big time retard as far as the sense of humor is concerned, humbly pleads to all to spare him the ridicule of not being able to applaud supposedly the greatest comedy movies ever made.

PS : The following is a compilation of some of the movies which always have me in splits. And the last clip is my preferred version of the plot about three young bachelors sharing a room in the city of Delhi.

(Images courtesy : Google Images)

The Hazards of Growing Up...

“God……. When will he grow up ??” exclaimed Mom, rolling her eyes heavenwards, as if having a one-to-one with the Almighty.

And without waiting for the Almighty to explain things, she looked back at me as I ended up sprawled on the floor, clutching my hurting tummy and laughing my wits off for the nth time in the last half hour, watching the ‘Tom & Jerry’ show on the telly.

Seeming to have given up on any hope she had for her elder son showing any signs of sanity, she walked off to the confines of her room, mumbling something to the effect of using the ‘parental control’ on our television set.


Ok. ‘Tom & Jerry’ has been one of my weak points, if not the weakest. But what’s it got to do with my growing up ?

Ohhh… Am I supposed to be a grown up ? Maybe…

But do I care ?? Not in this world !

Which makes me ponder… what is this thing about growing up ? When exactly does a person grow up ? Is it really the stage when one can reach up and quietly sneak away the cookies from the top of the shelf ??

I have seen lots of people (rather, kids) itching to ‘grow up’. Maybe so that they can do things which they cannot and should not do as long as they are kids. And I’ve seen people ‘growing up’ overnight on their eighteenth birthday. Maybe there’s a lot more fun on the other side of that landmark in one’s life. But I’ve seen more serious people than joyous ones towards the heavier side of eighteen.

Looking at most of the ‘grown ups’ around me, I always get the feeling that I’m in unknown territory. For a small example, mine was the only room in the entire campus during the days of Medical College, where one would always find a handful of comics on the table. Though they were not officially prescribed by the Indian Medical education, yet I wouldn’t be able to end my day without going through at least one comic.


I could sense some of my mates feeling tempted to ask me to borrow some of those at times. In fact, some actually did too. But most of the times, people showed more amusement of seeing those in my room rather than giving in to the urge of reading one.

At home I still maintain a vast collection of children’s books and comics into which I dive every other day and relieve myself whenever I’m in need to be refreshed.


But then, has age something to do with growing up ? People can drive, vote, consume liquor, marry and do quite a few other things once they cross a certain age. Legally, that is. Because I’ve also seen under aged individuals getting involved in things which they cannot legally be involved in at their age.

One can legally drive. And one can legally consume liquor after a certain age. But would a person who gets himself drunk and then drives around (and over unsuspecting people), really be called a grown up ?

Not including child marriages (which are still illegally practiced around India), so many ‘grown ups’ who can and do legally marry, don’t have a clue about what they are getting themselves into. And dare I mention about how most ‘grown ups’ use their right to vote ??

So what do grown ups do ? What are they supposed to do ? How are they supposed to behave ? And what do they do when they have some free time on their hands ??

And when I put myself through these trying questions, I can only come up with what grown ups don’t do, are not supposed to do and how they are not supposed to behave.

Because there aren’t many (or any) grown ups that I’ve seen who…

* Run out with a football while it rains instead of sitting in the shade and sipping tea.
* Or who play 'Caesar IV' on their computer overnight during holidays instead of muttering sweet nothings with a girl/boy friend on the phone.
* Or who share a toddler’s big balloon to play with instead of shouting at the kid to sit down and behave.
* Or who run around the house with their Mom chasing them with a glass of milk instead of sitting down at the dining table for a proper breakfast.
* Or who quietly sneak inside the refrigerator for some ‘Cadburys GEMS’ at 2 AM instead of snoring away in bed.
* Or who opt for a nice serving of Choco ice cream at a party instead of even giving a look to the liquor-bar.
* Or who are more interested in the latest Spanish-League scores instead of the values of the stock market in the daily news.

Even at my age I’m not considered a grown up and looking at some of my exploits as above, I don’t see me ‘growing up’ in the near future.

But I ask again, does being a grown up anything to do with one’s appearance, one’s age, one’s actions or does it depend upon one’s sensibilities ?

And, is it necessary to leave the child in one’s own self behind, as one continues to overtake new landmarks of age in life ? If that is necessary in order to grow up,……. What’s the big deal in growing up ???


Are you a grown up ???


(Picture credits : Google Images)

Kites...

The sun was still playing hide-n-seek with the dark clouds as he stepped on to the terrace. It had been raining heavily all through the day. The clouds, having seemed to have drained their store of cats and dogs appeared to be interested elsewhere. He was disappointed not to find a rainbow. But the brisk and cool breeze sort of made it up for him.

He decided to scan the neighborhood as he walked around the damp terrace. The north end was calm as ever. The only difference being that the kitchen-garden of the neighbors next door had pretty much been converted into a kitchen-pond in which their five-year-old was trying to sail his paper boats.

Moving over to the west, he saw two little birds on the big mango tree making quite a noise about a worm they had just caught. Obviously arguing about which of them was earlier. The south, however, looked a tad disturbed. It appeared that the dozen odd kids from the four-generation-household, who had finished drenching themselves running after each other in the rain, were now running around trying to escape their mothers who wanted to get them out of their wet clothes.

But he stopped as he came to the east-end. As usual, he glanced towards the house down the street. It somehow felt alive within, but motionless as always. The terrace was deserted. He was confused whether to feel relieved or disappointed. So he continued to eye the deserted terrace in order to solve his confusion.

And he got his answer the next moment as the door burst open and revealed contents which instantly spread all over.

The rucksack of terror that emerged from the door was ‘Gonglu’, the ten year old who was the scourge of the neighborhood. Though he was barely ten, he was built well enough to handle two ten-year-olds. He had heard how Gonglu’s mom was to have twins. But apparently gave up on the trouble of delivering twice and instead had Gonglu. He surely looked like a pair of twins that weren’t given the trouble to separate at all.

The quality which kept Gonglu at the top of the weekly charts of the nuisance mongers of the area was his spontaneity. To hatch up an evil plan to render his victims aghast was with him, the work of a moment.

And each time his eyes saw Gonglu, he would involuntarily be forced to recall that day when his ‘Rambo’ ran up and down the street at unbelievable speeds as each of the juicy ‘chatai’ bomb tied to its tail blasted louder than the one before. To watch one’s beloved dog run for his life is bad enough. But to watch him run without even being able to tuck his tail in between his legs is worse. And he simply winced on recalling that incident once again.

He had hated Gonglu ever since he descended on that peaceful locality with his family for newer prey. And he could have easily dealt him some good lessons if it wasn’t for… Her. Gonglu’s elder sister. He remembered the moment when he first saw her. And how he had simply melted. She had mesmerized him. And that sparkle in her eyes had shot right through him. He always wondered, how could siblings be so infinitely opposites of each other… ??

He scanned the terrace once again. There was no sight of her. But Gonglu seemed to be getting ready to fly a kite. Something that gave him immense pleasure. Though it served as a warning sign for the entire living neighborhood. And suddenly he had an idea. “I’ll show the devil how to fly a kite !” He ran back in and came out with a kite and thread.

The wind was brisk, and the kites were up in no time. He realized that the wind was towards the north-east. “Even better !” he thought. “Maybe I can poke it right on the brat’s head.”
Gonglu looked around for probable victims, and saw him tugging at his kite. He grinned. When he saw Gonglu grin, he felt his insides churning and something hot rising up his nose, to his head. “Just you wait. You monster !” And he loosened his kite further to get to the right length.

When he felt it was just the accurate distance, right above the ten-year-old plague, he tweaked the thread. Just as the kite turned down on its nose, he pulled hard. And down dived the kite. Aiming right at Gonglu’s fat head. And he mumbled to himself, “That’ll teach you a nice lesson !”

The sound of the impact echoed through the length of the street. He wondered if people had ever heard a kite strike a ten-year-old’s head. Maybe they hadn’t. But the sound he heard right then didn’t really seem like it. The sound should probably have been close to a thud. Not the thud of a falling sack-full of potatoes. But a thud of a stick striking a hairy head. But this sounded more like a pair of scissors striking a table head on.

And as he shifted his attention to the source of that very sound, he saw Gonglu’s burly Brigadier of a dad pressing hard at his bald head looking around desperately to ascertain the new target for his rifle. In all the excitement to teach the thug a lesson, he had completely missed when Gonglu’s dad had joined him on the terrace.

There are a few situations which ask for immediate actions. And this was one such situation. And the best and only possible action he could think of was to duck. And as he ducked, he plucked at the thread in his hand to avoid leaving any ‘loose ends’. He watched through a crack in the wall, still crouching. And he could see the Brigadier stomping his feet off the terrace. While the real target was still at large.

He wasn’t going to give up. And soon he had another kite up in the air. He decided not to risk repeating the previous plan and ending up hitting bald and unsuspecting Brigadiers on the head again. “I’ll fight him off in a kite fight !” he said to himself. He tweaked and pulled at the thread, trying to get close to Gonglu’s while he had one eye on the terrace to check if the dad really returned with a loaded rifle.

And that was when he lost it. She had just stepped out on to the terrace, looking around skywards. And he felt his heart skip a beat. She had walked up to her kid brother, taking keen interest in the kite flying contest.

He was still tugging at the thread, looking at her, when he suddenly felt it get too tensed. And as he looked back bringing his attention to his kite, he couldn’t find it in the air. And it immediately struck to him that his kite had smoothly landed somewhere behind their house while he was busy admiring the cutest girl around. The prospective fight had ended rather abruptly. And he saw Gonglu look back at him and grin. And she looked back too.

“Oh God. She’s looking. I’ve got to get out of this one !” he prayed. And he tugged at the thread. And all of a sudden his kite appeared from behind the roof top.

But his joy was short lived as the kite was now in the possession of a red faced descendant of the apes. Panic ! He tugged and tried to pull it out of the monkey’s hands. But one cannot do much but stare when monkeys have some other ideas. And this one had too. It quickly started biting the kite like there was no tomorrow. And with each bite, he could hear the guffaws of Gonglu mixed with those of his sister. All he could manage was stand and stare with his face getting as red as the monkey’s, and starting to feel faint with embarrassment.

Gonglu was having fits of laughter. While she had sobered down a bit. He watched silently as she turned to leave. She walked up to the door, and stopped. She turned her head around to face him. Looking at him, she smiled. And then she ran inside.

He suddenly noticed, there was a rainbow in the eastern sky now, and he smiled too.

(Plot source : A  friend's real-life experience :P)  
 
(Image source : Google Images)

Laughter : The Best Medicine... (Part II)

Here are a few more of my creations... :-)

Laughter : The Best Medicine...

While writing for Kadzilla's Lounge, I tried my hand at creating a few cartoons, some of which were published in the Cartoon Corner of the Lounge.

Here are a few of the published cartoons alongwith some new ones.

Shaadi ke Side Effects....

It was just the other day, while reading Pooja’s ‘Reflections on Indian Marriage’ (the featured post on the latest issue of ‘Kadzilla’s Lounge’), that I had to log off and rush in search for some fresh air. Those who know me very closely would vouch for the fact that I don’t just grab at my throat, cry out for help and make a dash for the open spaces unless I’m seriously stirred.

And that was what the problem was with the piece of text I had just read. It was superbly written on a topic that touches a rather sensitive spot in my mind. The feeling of Déjà vu quickly took me to the very first day (rather night) of 2010 AD.

We had just finished partying for the Birthday of our close friend. (I had always found it interesting how he chose ‘New Year’s Day’ to sneak into the world to torment us all for the rest of our lives with his dumb questions, until I was enlightened by the fact that since he had been born and brought up in some remote village, no one actually remembered his real birth date. So they decided what better a day to choose for the same than 1st of January !)

So I was just dropping him home that foggy night when he asked me to pop in for a few minutes as usual. We were greeted by his elder brother at the door and were lead in through the side door into the house that looked asleep already. But to my surprise, we were led to his brother’s bedroom, the contents of which looked as follows…

1. His dad sitting right in the middle of the large bed, with an assortment of packets and papers around him, deep in some pensive thought.
2. His mom on a chair by the bed, with her face supported by a hand, looking at his dad who was deep in some pensive thought.
3. His ‘bhabhi’ (elder brother’s wife) sitting at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with what looked like the remote of the television.
4. His four year old nephew, who was sitting beside his dad (my friend’s dad, not his own dad as his dad, (the nephew’s dad, not my friend’s dad who was sitting on the bed in a pensive mood) was standing with us), and was trying to load his toy gun.

At the site of us entering the room, the various reactions I got were as follows…

1. His dad looked up, nodded at me, and again looked down going back to his deep thoughts.
2. His mom, straightened up, smiled, and then again went back to supporting her face on her hand and looking at his dad.
3. His ‘bhabhi’ turned towards us, smiled too, and went back to the fidgeting.
4. The little kid didn’t even bother to look up. For him the loading of the gun was of utmost importance lest he would be left wanting if he decided to shoot me.

All in all, something serious. I was provided with a chair and I tentatively sat down on it after touching the parents’ feet as my friend’s brother took his place on the bed as well. It was then, when suddenly, his dad became lively and stated that it was much better now as I was there too. What for, I didn’t know yet. He then asked the lady with the remote to switch the television on. So I guessed we were going to have a show of some new movie.

But to my surprise, as the screen came to life, there were no colorful or animated scenes to be seen. Instead, I saw a list of folders just as one sees on a computer screen. And then a girl’s photograph beamed on the screen… And then, I had to actually pinch myself to believe, what my friend’s dad said to me, if he actually said that…

“We are rating the proposals of girls for Sanju (my friend). We should have a variety in opinion. So you also rate the girls as you think. Then we’ll match everyone’s list. That’ll make it easier to decide on the prospective brides.”

All I remember that I mumbled then was… ^&%%#%& ………….. !?!?!?? while my face turned a few shades of pink.

I looked at my friend who was now imitating his mom and was sitting on a chair besides me holding his face in his hand. “You should ask Sanju. No ?? He’s the one who’ll decide the girl. No ??” was all I could say as my senses started returning to me.

“Ohh… No no. Let’s have everyone’s opinion. Not his alone.” His dad replied handing me a paper and pencil. “Just rate them in decreasing order of preference.”

I turned to look at my friend. The bloke wasn’t even given a paper or pencil. And there he was… smiling behind his palm which hid his mouth. Without letting me think of anything else to say, the slideshow on the screen started. With the picture of each girl that appeared, the lighter shades of pink disappeared from my face which turned to newer shades of red.

With each new picture, everyone commented upon their likes and dislikes about the girl on screen. Except of course, my friend’s mom, who as always the simple and quiet lady, just smiled and looked, and my friend, who kept smiling behind his hand, and the little kid, who by now had started on deciding who the targets for his shooting practice would be.

“I really like this girl !” His brother would say suddenly in between. Which would invariably evoke an “Ehhh… ????” from his wife as she would look back and give him a really good stare. Which would lead him to try to explain the merits of the prospective bride, while sweating from the sides of his head even on that freezing night.

I’d better skip the details of more conversation to save myself from some really embarrassing memories. But in the end, the results were far from a consensus. The dad didn’t like the nose of the girl topping the ‘bhabhi’s’ list, while ‘Girl no. 1’ of the brother’s list didn’t even find a place in his wife’s list. In a nutshell, quite a useless exercise as now, the differences in opinion made everyone even more confused.

Though I could hardly concentrate on the pictures on the screen, as I was more concerned about the new shade of color which my face would be displaying, I just peeked into ‘bhaiya’s’ list and copied names. Only that I listed them in an altogether different random order. My racing mind, after quickly assessing the situation, was swift to thus make a list of my own which matched nobody else’s, thereby adding to the confusion there already was.

I handed in my list to my friend’s dad, threw in the proverbial towel and got up to leave without waiting to hear the declaration of the results. I once again touched the parents’ feet and made a dash out into the foggy night. And as my friend came to see me off he commented how I would have to pass through a similar procedure when I get married too. It was partly because of the big grin he now had and more so because I didn’t think it would be the best idea to punch a guy on his nose on his Birthday (even if it is a symbolic one), that I just bid him a good night and slammed myself inside my car.

Coming back to Pooja’s article about arranged marriages in India, it’s not only a harrowing experience for the bride or groom in search but sometimes also for even those not remotely related to the event.

It is not just the choice of the person planning to get married but also every near and dear and not so near and not so dear ones as well. It is as if, a person’s life partner should be acceptable not only to him or her, but also to their families, relatives, friends, friends of friends, neighbors, neighbors’ relatives, neighbors’ friends and almost everyone they know or even do not know.

The bride, or the groom (like my friend in the case mentioned above) are happy to accept what is acceptable and finalized by everyone else. And so has been happening for generations in our country and our society. And surprisingly, everyone seems to be happy with the procedures followed.

But, as for me, it is not only the bride or the groom, but sometimes even people who aren't even involved in it all are the ones who bear the side effects of an Indian wedding.

In the second part of this post that’s coming up, I’ll relate to my very own experiences about attempts of me being forcefully made a prospective groom…. Huh…

And, by the way, finally the prospective bride for my friend has been selected. And she is the same girl whom I had put at no. 1 in my list…………