A day in the life of LIFE

Even as I began pondering on what I should be doing in life other than travel 75 kilometers a day for my “rosy roti”, my brain came up with a brilliant suggestion that I needed to pick up a foreign language in order to survive the anticipatory pink slip scenario.

While a couple of calls to the alliance francaise de Banglore, did help me obtain some basic information on the class schedule (hope you have realized by now that French was been the lucky language bestowed with the honor of being learnt, by yours truly), I was a little apprehensive on how I would accommodate 6 hours of study over weekends in addition to my rituals of sleeping, hogging, traveling and doing nothing, which actually takes a lot of time.

It was at this juncture that the training department at my organization came up with just what the doctor ordered and sent out a mailer on French classes to be conducted on campus by an instructor from the alliance francaise. My eyes lit up and a couple of imploring mails to my manager helped me enroll.

Monday last, was the first session and the class of 25 – comprising of managers, programmers and consultants like me waited with bated breath to take on the marathon of learning a new means of expression via the exotic language of le français.

The instructor, walked in and addressed us as was the customary, with a pleasant “Bonjour”, which by the universal law of speech had to correspond to “ hello”. What followed were some quick fire statements in the new language that had us look up in awe just as Stuart Broad did when Yuvraj clobbered him for six consecutive sixers at the 20-20 game at Kingsmead.

Flirting with words like Vous, votre, sa va, bon voyage and the like that filled the otherwise silent environment, we were left confused all the same at the end of the round 1 which lasted for about 40 minutes.

The tea break was followed by Round 2 with Ms. UB trying to teach a bunch of “foreign” students, the language of Monsieur Napoleon Bonaparte ala the famed television series - Mind Your Language.

Like children in 2nd grade, we went about reciting le alphabete’ in chorus and anyone who saw us from outside would have reckoned, we were the likes of the dyslexic Ishaan Awasthi from Taare Zameen Par, who were late bloomers in life.

From the time the first class ended, I’ve been showing off my French skills to Ma, Dad, colleagues, the milkman, the maid and anyone I’ve found on the street.

The dialogue exchange has been something like this:

Auto driver: Ellige Saar?
Me: Vous Vous appele comment?

Auto driver : Oh ! Malayali aano ? Evede pova saar ?
Me : Vous paarle quelles lang ?

Auto driver : No paarle saar, I like only Britannia
Me : Quelles votre nationalite' ?

Auto driver : Banni saar, NIMHANS ge free aage drop maadtini
Me: Sigh!

I’ve decided to get the authentic feel of learning French by trying to emulate them as closely as I can. This has included a long term plan of growing French Beard, of ordering only French Fries at Mc Donald’s, sampling the best of French wine and, well I’ll stop at that.

My colleagues have begun responding to me in Anglisized French, rather Fransisized English and believe me, that has driven me to forget my desi Angreji as well.

But I am not going to allow this to dampen my spirits. Mistakes do happen and amateurs ought to be encouraged. As they say, “To Err is French, to forgive is the Wine!” hic! Till then, au revoir and Carla Bruni, here I come !

Pic above : Eiffel Tower.

Pic below: well, that's me in class!