Chatpata Chennai - Volume 2

Of bhoots and bachelors

It was a dark, dark night, around 11 PM. He was walking on the OMR highway, trying to get home quickly after staying back late at office.

Although his flat was situated 2 minutes from the bus stop, the walk seemed like 2 hours. Nobody got down with him, and as the decrepit MTC bus left, he got shivers down his spine.

The wind swooshing down on pavement made a piece of parchment fly and land on his neck. He caught it and stole a glance: something was written on the parchment.

He disregarded the piece of paper, and made haste to cover the remaining 2 blocks, slightly aware of the eerie silence of the surroundings.

As he passed one block, an owl hooted, and the hairs on his hands stood up: owls are signals of something ominous. He started running.

Heaving and puffing, he reached for the metal gate to his apartment building. He tried to shove it and make way - unfortunately, it wouldn't budge. Suddenly, he felt a steely, cold hand on his shoulder. Turning back, he screamed.

A girl, draped in white, was smiling at him. Her hair was lustrous black, and her eyes were bloodshot. Her skin was pale white, and her teeth were a shade yellow. He understood. The end was near. She clasped her hands around his neck and he could feel the grip tightening, her long fingernails carving patterns on his skin. Her putrid smell overwhelmed his senses.

Suddenly, he remembered the parchment that he had picked up earlier. Quickly, he read it again, and decided to shout it out loud, very loud.

Why this Kolaveri Kolaveri Kolaveri di !!!

Why this Kolaveri Kolaveri Kolaveri di !!!

Why this Kolaveri Kolaveri Kolaveri di !!!

Why this Kolaveri.....................aa di.

Distance- la moon-u moon-u, moon-u colour white-u,

White background night-u night-u,

Night-u Colour-u black-u.

White skin-u Girl-u Girl-u, girl-u heart-u black-u....

And so on. :P :P :P :P :P

(For those who didn't get it -

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=YR12Z8f1Dh8)

Chatpata Chennai - Volume 1

Chatpata Chennai – Triumphs and travails of an IT Employee in Amma-land.

Chapter 1 – Our Domestic Help.

First things first: Indian wives have for long regarded the bai with suspicion and distrust – a necessary evil that needs to be employed in order for them to indulge in some necessary evils of their own, like watching the idiot box and attending kitty parties. Random Research has proven that in 83% cases, the latter is mostly centered on discussions revolving how efficient or how lazy one’s kaamwali bai is. The idiot box contributes to 2^nd image: the other, wilder connotation where the bai usually casts her charms on the man of the house (think Ishq Bector’s Aye Hip Hopper). The poor men, innocent and gullible as they are, mostly give in. Real life is not as forgiving as Television wives, as Shiney Ahuja found out the harder way.The image of a sari-clad lady holding a mop in her hand conjures up multiple connotations in the mind, all of which are as different from each other as apples are from oranges.

However, post

- moving into a bachelor pad @ Chennai 6 months ago, my connotation of ‘bai ’ was starkingly different: Reason being, my most prevalent memory of her is not one where she washes dishes or mops the floor: rather, it’s the one where she is mostly bidding adieu, going away on extended paid ‘sick leaves’.

Let me profile our beloved ‘kaamwaali Aunty’. She is

· 55+ (and if you thought this article was going somewhere else, sorry to have your hopes dashed: I am not a manifestation of Shiney Ahuja K)

• speaks Tamil and opportunistic Hindi (I will explain this in due time)

· has a horde of relatives bundled up in faraway Trichy

· AND SHE IS THE GLUE that holds the pack of cards we call our heavenly abode.

You might ask, “Why is that so “??

That’s because all of us are DUDES. If you didn’t make sense of the bold & the CAPS, you are not one yourself. Probably I should do some explaining.

We are an elitist bunch of middle class men who form the largest segment of customers for Louis Philippe and Ray-Ban, presumably upper class brands. We earn in thousands, and spend in the thousands as well: b

uying only Tommy Hilfiger chappals for 1700 bucks (that’s when they are offering discounts) and Rs 3,500 shirts from Marks & Spencers. We borrow from friend

s and family when our six figure salaries are not enough to buy a Formula 1 ticket at the Buddh International Circuit. We love the sweet sound of Rock & Metal, except from the metallic clanging tone that emanates when a plate and a spoon hit the kitchen Sink. That’s where we draw the line.

Obviously, people who are so averse to doing dishes regard the appearance of the kaamwali bai as nothing short of an epiphany. Even though she takes 15 days off in a month (in February too, and 2011 was not a leap year) and speaks Tamil throughout the month except salary day (opportunistic Hindi explained). Because nothing can explain the joy and exhilaration in the hearts of 4 young men, watching Aunty stride through the main door and into the Kitchen. I suspect if even Katrina Kaif would arouse similar emotions in us.

Sure as hell, she ain’t gonna do the dishes!!

So, when last Sunday, Aunty informed us about her off the next day, this is how the next 7 days were spent:

1. Monday: Today was a planned leave. No extraordinary reactions.

2. Tuesday: Uh oh! Missing from Action again. Been there, done that. SHE WILL BE BACK. (Even Arnold Schwarzenegger obliges in the movies)

3. Wednesday: Third time is usually the charm!! Of course she will turn up tomorrow. One more day of agony.

4. Thursday: The leftover subzi from Monday has started stinking. Impending doom ahead.

5. Friday: Who cares for dirty dishes man… it’s the WEEKEND!! We will eat at Dominoes.

6. Saturday: She’s not coming back DUDEs, says one to the others. “What the…” She always goes to Trichy and doesn’t come back for a week! Damn… #$%%, @$## (some uncouth language uttered).

7. Sunday. Now this day does bring forth behavior that doesn’t follow a set pattern. Expect the unexpected. Last seen: 2 dudes had enough of it, and went out to search for a prospective replacement bai. They came back with 2 sutta packets instead. Another dude, who had some contacts in the bai community (something tells me that he will be moving to UNCLE from Dude), managed to procure overpriced domestic help for a single day.

The 4^th one woke up at 4 PM (He was the one responsible for the leftover subzi from Monday).

Relieved yet frustrated, he made a sweeping announcement: Come Heaven or Hell, the bai is not going to enter this house again.

MONDAY: A frail, grumpy, sari-clad figure knocks at the door at 8 in the morning.

And all of us exclaimed with glee, disregarding Aunty’s past disappearance. Let bygones be bygones, I am told: we should be looking forward to the future, and must investigate her absence.

4^th Dude: Probably we are not paying her well enough. She deserves a 25% hike from this month. Everybody else agrees in unison.

The ‘kaamwali bai’ smiles mysteriously, and speaks in chaste Hindi, “acchha hai!”

Why Sadda Haq is potentially the next National Anthem of the country

Yesterday, when the subzi wala didn’t seem quite keen on giving me back my precious 2 Rs (leftover from the 100 bucks that I had given him for a week’s supply of lauki and karela), I almost blurted out -

“SADDA HAQ!!! AITTHEY RAKH!!”

Yeah... that’s the effect of rock music on middle class bachelors like me. We actually connect with the songs. And then’s when I realized how much potential this Mohit Chauhan number composed by A R Rahman had to become the next national anthem.

The music album itself marks the return of Rahman (to the Indian music scene, I know he has done some Angreji shit... purists kindly excuse), whom I remember last for belting out hits like “Khelo... Jeeto... Padho... Likhoo” for the common man (thats the common man for you. Toiling away so that it can all be taken away by Messrs. like Kalmadi and Raja) and “Come on Liva, baari tumhaari hae” for the Toyota hatchback. Sadly enough neither did the first one lift the Indian CWG medal tally, nor did the second one do likewise for Toyota balance sheets and P&L Accounts.

But this time, I tell you – Rahman has really upped the ante: he has created the ultimate, alpha male/beta female of songs. Something which everyone can connect to, regardless of caste/creed/bank balance/race/sexuality/age/IQ level. Look at the below characters and situations, and you will find yourself appreciating the ingenuity of the writer as much as I did.

· They start pretty high up, appeasing Aliens – yes, those little Martians and Venetians who might just land on your porch ruining your kitchen garden and morning tea.

Tum logon ki, iss duniya mein
Har kadam pe, insaan galat

(aur aliens sahi)

· Frustated PHD Students wailing in front of their guides, come next.

Main sahi samajh ke jo bhi karoon
Tum kehte ho galath

(Damn that Doctorate – it’s gonna take a while till these poor people resolve their personal conflicts)

· The hoi-polloi of the society/the upper strata of middle class India come a close third – Mohit Chauhan belts the next line specifically about those IIT/IIM Grads who have just got the first draft of their Business plan rejected by their mentors, and are quite indignant about it.

main galath hoon.... (shocking and unbelievable denial...)

toh phir kaun sahi (which quickly turns to indignation)

(IIPM/UPTU waale?? WTF!)

· The rebellious teenage girl who has just been refused permission for a late night party.

Marzi se jeene ki bhi main
Kya tum sabko... main arzi doon

· Ramu Kaka, our ubiquitious servant who has just been given 50 clothes to wash and 20 pairs of shoes to polish effectively ruining is chance for an evening out with Basanti who washes dishes next door.

Matlab ki tum sabka mujhpe
Mujhse bhi zyada haq hai

· The chronic alcoholic/drug addict fed up with long queues outside the thekas and the refusal of the theka owner to consider Credit card EMIs as an option for a bottle of Royal Stag gets an honourable mention, with the longest stanza.

Hey!
Inn qataaron mein ya udhaaron mein
Tum mere jeenay ki aadat ka kyun ghot rahey dum !

(Ek pauwwa de de na bhai ! Pakka agle hafte paise dedunga)

Be salika main, uss gali ka main
Na jis mein haya, na jis mein sharam

Mann bole ke ras mein jeenay ka harjaana duniya dushman
(Now this was easy to guess – he refers to those alcoholics who belong to the same gali where you go with a phoolmaala in your gala to watch Phoolbai croon a senti ghazal)

Sab begaana inhe aag lagaana
Mann bole mann bole, mann se jeena ya marr jaana !

(sMyriad emotions which cloud your mind when Phoolbai refuses your romantic advances, and her musclemen throw you out minus your wallet)

· The Gujjar samaaj, agitating over being denied SC/ST status and its benefits.

Rewaazon se samaajon se
Kyun.....?
Tu kaate mujhe
Kyu baate mujhe iss tarah

· And finally, the B-school student fighting with his Professor for a better grade.

Kyu sach ka sabak sikhaaye
Jab sach sunn bhi naa paaye
Sach koi bole to niyam kanoon bataye

(The Professor remarks: Relative Grading hai betey, to which the exasperated student retorts)

Tera darr, Tera pyaar, teri wah
Tu hi rakh ..

(And turning to the A-grader)

rakh saaley !!!

So, here we finish. The song will work pretty well because, it’s an all-inclusive rant (unlike the non-inclusive Annual budget of the Indian Government) about all things that people find unfair. And I haven’t even mentioned the people/situations where only the Title line is enough - for example:

§ Young Men supporting Anna Hazare and dissing the Government

§ Young Men feigning support to Anna Hazare and dissing the Government with the hope to score some chicks in the India Against Corruption weekend get together

§ Young Girls supporting Anna Hazare because White Suits are back in fashion

§ Employees to their Project Manager, during appraisal time

§ Project Managers to their Employee, at all other times (pointing to incomplete documents)

§ Cute 2^nd Standard kids to their lovey-dovey parents, demanding an ice-cream

§ The same kids, 15 years later, demanding an Audi

§ Men like Aftab Shivdasani in Masti, who are not getting some...

§ And umpteen others. Whenever you face such a situation, clear your throat, and simply scream at the top of your voice -

SADDA HAQ – Aithhey/Utthey/Kahin to RAKHH!!

Rakh Saaley.

And things should take care of themselves.

PS - Kindly wait till I decode that ‘Ya Ya Ya’ number :-)

Change in the times of 'Poriborton'

“Poriborton !!!”, Screamed the ecstatic Halwai in Chittaranjan Park. The poor guy was oblivious of the impending LPG and Petrol price hike that was pushed into effect 2 days after the results. Ask anybody in West Bengal and for that matter Didi herself what kind of change is going to happen, and all you are likely to get in return is a wry smile. and perhaps some Mishti Doi.
After going through all the newspapers and talking to a lot of friends, I was still clueless on the poriborton issue, and decided to chalk up my own list of things that can change, and those that definitely won’t. Read on at your own expense.

What remains the same: Unrequited love for Sourav Dada, and hatred for King Khan
What Changes: Loyalties – from KKR to Sahara Pune Warriors, and a possible exodus to Pune
What definitely won’t happen: Either of the two teams winning IPL 4.0

What remains the same: The argumentative Bong lamenting marginalization in National Politics
What Changes: Fuel Prices, under directives from Pranab Da
What definitely won’t happen: Any upsurge in PranabDa’s popularity in his home state given this fact 

What remains the same: Bengali Passion!
What Changes: The outlet to express the same – from Singur to Sourav to Trinamool
What definitely won’t happen: Sustenance for any western Business in the State

What remains the same: Elegant and grandiose Durgo Pujo Celebrations
What Changes: The latest trends in fashionable ethnic Bengali wear being adorned by the ladies
What definitely won’t happen: Boys looking any better while visiting the pandals

What remains the same: Bengali actors flocking to Bollywood
What Changes: Waist Sizes. From healthy chocolate heroes (Vishwajeet) to unfit Size Zeroes
What definitely won’t happen: A return to the heydays – of Satyajit Ray and Keshto Mukherjee

What remains the same: My affections for Riya Sen, and my Mom’s preference for Raima as a daughter-in-law
What Changes: After quite a lot of thought, I have warmed up to Raima too
What definitely won’t happen: Either of the two damsels agreeing to marry me... :D

On a more serious note, let us raise a toast to the glorious culture that gave us everything from brave freedom fighters, great scientists and delicious cuisine. Thank you !!!