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!”