A day in the life of LIFE

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 :)