A day in the life of LIFE

The basic instinct of any human being (No I am not referring to that: Corrupt you!) is to find three square meals a day (I still wonder why they call it square when most plates we eat in, are ellipses), and for those people living out of their cozy homes, in far away lands inhabited by alien species: they need four 'square' meals a day.

Two days prior to my departure to my home 'city' ( would not want to call Bangalore a town), dear mom called me up on the phone and enquired in a quivering voice similar to that of Nirupa Roy (The ever pervading mother of Indian Cinema) :

"Beta, ghar kab laut rahe ho? tumse baat kiye huey bees ghante ho gaye hai. Padosi ka ladka munnu har haftey aata jaata rehta hai.Tumharey paapa bhi intezaar kar rahe hai... jaldi aa beta, kaam toh chalta hi rahega". By the way, before my readers sympathise with munnu, he is the "bad boy" of the street who stays out of the house and comes back home at the end of the week when he runs out of money. Nevertheless, I got all senti and decided to pack my bags and catch the next bail gaadi (oops rail gaadi) to Bengalooru, like Aakash in Dil Chahta Hai.
By the way I think Aakash used the Hawai Gaadi in the movie, to travel fraam Aastrayliya to Humara India.

Awwww. wasn't that sweet?. Wish it would happen that way. I had been home just a month ago and when I announced the details of my being there over the weekend, Mom was so aghast that she asked me if e-cancellation of the ticket was possible and told me to utilize the option for the same. But like all mothers, whose hearts are made of Platinum, dear mom welcomed me with as much fanfare as depicted in the Siyaram Suiting advertisement, and the only component missing, was Dia Mirza.

After the customary "You look so lean and have gone down so much dear, you are not eating well" words, mom gave me many guidelines that could be compiled into a best seller, overnight. She stopped only when I told her that my waist size had increased by over an inch thanks to Chennai in general and Usha Uthup aunty in particular (Refer to the previous post here).

But mom was not convinced, and for the two days at home, my itinerary looked something like this:

5:30 - wake up!
6:30 - final wake up call or MS Subbulaxmi in max volume
7:00 - Tea with sprouts and biscuits
8:30 - BreakfEast
10:00- Freshly prepared Juice
11:00- Bakery Biscuits
11:30- Dry Fruit Snack
12:00- Soup
13:00-......................

I think the half day schedule was quite "filling" and I'll cut it short here, lest i be troubled by pangs of envy.

That's not the end of the story. This is the schedule on an off day. On a "special day", visits to grandma's, maamis' and buaji's houses leaves me with enough and more to chew the cud for two continuous days once back in chennai.

Mom strangely believes that there is a severe food shortage in chennai. So she packs up almost everthing and hence, I make it a point to carry an empty suitcase on my onward journey which comes back full, during the return trip.

Of course, These are coupled with the gellusils, haajmolas and Pudin Haara.

But then, as they say, "Mother's love is fattening, and I am not complaining". Rather, I am all set to participate in the T Nagar Sumo Wrestling competition next week. So wish me luck :)

I tried experimenting with the newly found liking to the “gyan” and “gandhigiri” philosophy, courtesy: the movie that I’ve spoken of in the previous post here. [For the uninitiated, Gandhi and Giri are not my neighbors, Gandhigiri as defined by Mr. Murli Prasad Sharma, is the act of following the ideals propagated by Mahatma Gandhi, in the context of the 21st Century].

My Experiments with the moments of truth are narrated below: Note: Watching the movie would help you relate the scenes of the movie to the following experiences, all of which might not have actually happened, and are all a figment of my volatile imagination.

Scene 1: The RTO office at K K Nagar

After watching the movie, I finally decided to obtain my road tax permit for my kinetic that I had evaded till date and chugged along to the RTO office to own up my “sins” to the round and beautiful traffic inspector who would come out to inspect the bike.

The “dude” asked me as to why he should approve of my wrongdoing for which I explained the script of the movie that had inspired me to commit kamikaze at the RTO office.

The routine “maamool” was asked for, and after consultation with “baapu” who was right behind me [a la the movie], I decided to embarrass the inspector by shedding my tee shirt then my glasses and by then a huge crowd had gathered near the spot.

Instead of the desired effect, my bike was seized and I was mocked at and shooed away for indecent exposure, and the moral police felt I was giving Mallika Sherawat a run for her money. the Cristies’ of London have been wanting my tee shirt for an auction titled, “The tee shirt of the man who made an ass of himself, rather rephrasing it as the ass who tried to make a man of himself”.

Contributions for paying my auto fare to and back from office in the absence of my loyal two wheeler, are humbly accepted.


Scene 2: Building relationships

I had mentioned about my noisy roomies in a previous post here. As a mark of silent protest/ Satyagraha, I decided to sleep out of the room, right in the middle of the hall, so that they get aware of my problems, and turn down the volume, since “Satyagraha sey dushman ki nazron mein aap key liye izzat badti hai”.

The result has been that both the rooms are now bolted and the volumes of Himesh Reshmiya are at an all time high, and Sigh! Neither are the ear plugs working.

Scene 3: @ my home in Chennai

My neighbor’s wife has this annoying habit of combing her hair, making small rings out of those that have come loose and blowing them into the air, like a child making a “good luck” wish. The small rings of hair conveniently make their way into our room though the balcony and lodge themselves al all inaccessible locations.

I got this idea of shouting at my neighbour, but then, after watching the movie, I picked up all the cute little hair collectables and made a hair bun out of the same (yeah, I learnt the art from my grandmother) and went across to present the same to my padosi’s padosan.

The uncle thought I had ulterior motives and has lodged a complaint with the Secretary of the apartment on account of prying and forceful entry into their flat. I had also used the broad smile as shown in the movie but that did not seem to work.

Eviction proceedings are underway , and I am now, out, searching for a new flat.

May be Baapu forgot to include the enhanced version 1.1 for the user manual on Satyagraha for the 21st century. So, till then, I am going to watch a re-run of Lagey Raho Munna Bhai…..for some finer tips on survival :)

What would you wish to do when you are loaded with work at office and know you are fighting a challenging battle against time? Or, you’ve just been dumped by your girlfriend and feel that the rest of the “buri duniya” is plotting to get rid of you?Worse even, you’ve just come out of a casino with no money left but for a hundred odd rupees, that can’t help you do much?

Lo behold! You are in the perfect condition to go watch the latest flick of Tinsel town – “ Lagey Raho Munna Bhai”.

After much deliberation, and mustering a feeble strength of 3 fellow cinema watchers, my movie watching plan was almost in jeopardy and with the movie running to packed houses, I was heading towards the cinema hall with no tickets in my pocket.

But India, the land of opportunity that it is, gives you a hundred options to choose from, when you ask for just one. And banking on this, I pulled out my 1898 make “bike” [past references to the “Kinetic Honda”] and set out to have my dose of laughter therapy.

Adding to the fervor of the day was the fact that September 7, after all the controversies that it got itself in, still marks the Centenary celebrations of the National Song of India, “Vande Mataram”. This song has been sung in so many myriad tunes that each new one refreshes the message and the effect of the lyrics on the audience, and this movie captured this song in one of the better renditions by Shantanu Moitra - "Bandhe mein tha Dum, Vande Mataram !".

The star cast is almost the same with the minor exception of Vidya Balan, who adds an extra layer of beauty each time she acts in a movie. [Yes, I was bowled over by her performance in Parineeta]. Including the dhobis and their characteristic dhobi ghat coupled with the “Rampuri” brandishing “Circuit” and the protagonist - the heart of gold wala tapori - Sanju Baaba all gel with the movie and have a great chemistry. Bomman as usual, masters his role in the plot of being the thorn in the foot.

Not many times can you have a comedy genre movie with a moral, but then lagey Raho scores a 100 percent in this department, by involving Baapu Mahatama Gandhi under the famous banner of “Gandhigiri versus Gundagiri”.

A phenomenally refreshing movie and a must watch for all the Indian people “bole to” for all those who feel “desh ki waat lag rahi hai” oops “ desh ki durgati ho rey li hai Maamu”.

The only pangs of guilt that I had after watching the movie were that I bought the tickets in black for almost double the price, which is against the principle of “Gandhigiri”.

But, looking at the brighter side, it helped a poor fellow Indian to buy his daily quota of roti, kapda aur…. daroo?? – Keep rocking Munna Bhai, apun abhi katlera hai :)