Lost in Pornunciation

A few years back my cousin Zoop was here from the US. He wore the typical firang accent. Even the little of what he calls Gujrati, that he spoke with a few of us at home, had a hint of it. Though we would manage to interpret it somehow.

One fine day, we were out at Emgee Road buying some Indian Remix music CDs for his sis and cousins out there. We took a short break opposite a Video parlour. His eyes caught the displayed posters adorning the shop's glass doors. They were displaying the latest Hollywood blockbusters and also some which were yet to be released there. Getting a bit curious, he walked into the shop and got out after some 10 odd minutes, while I was standing out staring at the new DVD's that had launched recently and got tempted to buy one, even though I had'nt got any player. This was very natural to me, the fact being I had collected around 30 odd PC magazine CD-ROMs before I could even think of buying a PC.

When he got out he asked me in the same accent, "Ruzan, you have any idea where i can buy some paarrrn?"

I replied with a "Whaaaaat?"

"Paarn, Paaarn?"

"Why would you want it? Don't you get it out there?"

"Actually, I know a shop just opposite your place where you get it?"

"Huh? I'm staying there for the past few years and I am unaware of it!" thinking how the hell did he find a porn selling library and that too around my place. "Then we will pick it up from there only, but did you buy any?" feeling a little strange asking this to my cousin.

"Yeah! I bought some yesterday! It was sweet and different from that other guy around"

"What? There's another one too! Damm I really need to get out and look around my place!" were my immediate thoughts. "So", enquired I, "did you like the ones you bought yesterday? I mean I don't believe you bought them"

"What are you saying? I love eating it. But I just dont like when they put that green paste and the.... what do you call that?"

"Eating it??? and the Green paste, huh?" thinking what the hell does he mean by green paste now. Must be some US term for... god knows what?!?

"... ye and super-ee"

"What? You are talking of Paan? Oh ok ok yeah! I know a few places here too. Let's walk it up"

Phew...! bach gayaa :)

Partners in Prime!

This snapshot of my life flashes way back from the early 90s. I was in my 5th grade, and was at the peak of my performance, of all of my schooling years. My class teacher Mr. Ryan Gobbins had very few students in his good-books, and without any astonishment, I was one of them. As far as I remember, there was never a test in which I scored less than a 13 pointer out of 15. Enough of boasting, coming to the point, I was one of his favorite fella (even though I never made it in Sports for his team). The classroom was on the second level and was on the rightmost end of the Main school building. The good thing of the location: we could make as much noise in between lectures and still not get detained. Fact being, our class Prefect would keep a watch at the corridor and signal us if any professor walked towards our class.

This is the story of one fine afternoon, after the lunch break. It was Mr. Gobbins lecture. He entered the class; noticing blissful silence the class had crashingly fallen into from an awful decibel. He kind of saw her prompting us to keep shut, while he walked towards our class. When asked, she pointed to the names she had written on the board and the numerous strokes against each ones name. Each stroke signified how many times the culprit was warned to Shut-Up! Of course, with the quiet nature I possessed (back then too!), I had some 3 odd strokes against my name. I could see the disappointment on his face as he looked at my name and then stared back to me. Oh yes, I forgot to mention, the very next name on the list was my partner Tanissha's, a chubby southie and one of my best friends back then. She was as quiet as me, so quiet; we almost always made it to the top 3 on the hit-list. Somehow, we always managed to get out of it, but today it felt a little different.

Mr. Gobbins asked each one of us, listed, the reason why we made it there! Well the same lame 'ghisa-pita' reason from us, "We were discussing the science homework". The reason didn't buy his cool this time and I got a snarl in return. I was so embarrassed, I could write "Sorry Sir, I won't do it again" a 100 times just to make sure my name does not get stroked off from his good books. He didn't say anything after that and he sat on his chair after he dealt with the remaining folks.

Before I go ahead, a little idea of the seating positions. My favorites Suraiya and Melanie on the first bench, in the same row as mine; Miss Sleepy Irani on the last bench, a row to our left and then the 2 of us, on the 4th bench. Mr. Gobbins preferred that the first benches of each row be occupied by the girls. The reason why Miss Sleepy Irani was pushed ‘back there’ was that, he could not bear the fact that at 9AM she would yawn on his face and continue do the same throughout the day. Worse, she would even daze off during the lectures. So, why talk of the others? Well the reason being, I always wanted to be at one of these prime locations, but never made it :(

Mr. Gobbins had a plan in his mind today! Though he didn't reveal it immediately. He told us to line up outside the class and get into the class and choose to sit wherever we wished. “Wow a dream come true!” was my thought. I possessed a ear-to-ear smile when I heard this. Now which one is it? Melanie, Surri, Zanadu or the same one? The door opened and everyone poured inside. The great athlete I was, I got into the class somehow. While all the prime locations were already taken (mostly by the same partners); in distress, I had an only option remaining; to sit on the last bench without anyone. Mr. Gobbin's did notice this but didn't utter a word. It felt horrid! Tanissha was sitting with someone else. I started getting that *same-feeling* back then. These seats got committed into Mr. Gobbin's mind and he warned us not to change seats anymore!

Hearing that, I was shocked. Now who will I talk to? Who is gonna talk to me all the time? Who is gonna break my back, every time I sit? Oh yes, we used to play 'Hops-n-bats' then and she could give my spine a shiver, if I ever made a folly of not yelling BATSSS! before being seated. With these thoughts floating in my mind, I went back home. It was difficult to focus on my home-work that evening. I finished it somehow and then finally went to mom dear and told her the whole story. She kinda convinced me that she would talk to the prof and ask him if I could sit in the front. The entire night, I was thinking of the fun we shared. From joking, to getting punished, to copying (i.e. let her copy :D), to hitting each other (please make note its NOT 'hitting on'), the thoughts kept on flashing and with only one wish for that night's prayers; "God get me back to my seat, I don't wanna sit anywhere else!"

The next day, Mr. Gobbins entered the class, with a smile on his face and addressed the class with his usual yada-yada. At the end of the lecture, he just told us to get back to our original seats. Sweet dear god of all mercies, the ear-to-ear smile was back, this time right up in my mind, just to avoid him noticing me. I rushed back to my original seat and adding to my glee was Tanissha's 'welcome back' smile. God it felt so nice to be back there. One more day back there alone, I swear I would have written many more stanzas than 'Mr. Wordsworth' on Solitude. I was so ready for any number of those rib-shattering punches. The day just ended so well for me.

So this was back in my fifth grade. The same partner in the sixth grade too, only difference being, on the *most-dreaded* day in my diary, she tied me with a colorful tasseled bond, which I thoroughly respected and accepted. What next? Of course seventh grade, time to find a new partner :)

How may I ASSist U?

It's 2 in the night. Mr. Download is all excited since this is the time he gets to squeeze out the maximum speed off the broadband pack he recently bought. No sooner did he jump to click on the dialer, than he got the "Request timed out". Now what?? Call those ratheads!

The phone rings! The same icky voice can be heard and the same sticky lines: "Welcome to Squiffy! Please dial star (*) to proceed". After the usual yada yada on how to get to the appropriate call ASSistant, he was made to wait long enough to rise the mercury of his mind.

"Yellow!" said a southie voice, "How may I assist you?"

"Ya hi, I'm calling from Pune, I'm using Squiffy Broadband for the last 2 weeks and today I am not able to connect to the net!"

"Sir, your user-ID please"

"Its... " and I spell it out for like 2 - 3 times till that numbskull gets it!

"Ok, Sire! You're Mr. Ruksun calling from Pune, Am I right?"

"Yes", thinking I don't care what you call me, just listen to the god dammit complaint.

"You have taken the xyz package. May I confirm your phone details sire? Its 2xxxxxxx and your mobile number is 9xxxxxxxxx"

Ohh wow, these guys are just too good. All I gave is my user-id and now he knows my name, my location, my residence number and my mobile number. And yes he also knows that I'm Sir! i'm impressed! Bullshit, you're just reading the details that I had typed when I registered. Stop the crap and get to the point!

5 minutes down the drain, since I dialed the number.

"Sir, may I know the problem you're facing?"

"Look, I'm trying to connect to the net, but I'm getting a connection timeout!"

"Can I know the error message you are getting?"

"Forget the error message, I know the exact problem. I am trying to ping the gateway and I am getting a 'Request timed out'"

For all those folks and Mr. ASSistant who do not know what 'ping' is, it is a lowest level command that sends tiny message packets to the IP address provided, to check network connectivity.

"Ok sir, try this out. Go to your internet browser options and remove the cache!"

"Whaaat! I mean what! I mean whhhat are you saying? Mister, this is outrageous, you are telling me to remove cache and that would solve the problem?"

"Sir please try it!"

I'm sure the moment I said those dreaded words "I know the exact problem!", got him out of his routine flow of questions. Anyways I was forced to do it (after barking a few %#$%&^ at him in my mind)

"Done, still not working."

"Ok, sir, try and restart your machine! That will reset all the network settings"

"Look, mister! Whoever you are! I am not a fool sitting here who is going to listen to whatever you say! I'm telling you there is a disconnection in the cable and I want you to lodge a complaint against this!"

"Ok sir, please try this last thing sir! Sir, remove all the temporary files from your Windows temp folder. I will explain you how to go to the folder. Which Operating system are you...."

Slaaam!

You're in the Scouts, now!

"So here we are, in Lonavala!" quoth one of them.

A loud whistle blew, not from the train's engine but it was the brawny VP of the troop, commanding the troop to stand in a single file. With the 5 feet wooden staves held under their right shoulders and with heavy, fully-loaded haversacks on each one's back, the troop trudged their way through the small winding roads of the town, which had just had the taste of the crisp golden sunshine. Everything looked so perfect; the quaint town folks, the cool breeze that carried the perfume of morning freshness and the heavy pants from each of the troop boys. The hike to 'Perzino', a bungalow surrounded by a few acres of green lawns and the welcoming bloomed flowers, was a small one of about 4kms.

The boys of the West Bombay Scout Group were instructed to accommodate themselves on the 1st level of the mansion, while the leaders grabbed the stilt. Within minutes, another whistle was heard! The boys were just about to undress, but had to run to fetch their new instructions. As the motto went "Be Prepared", it had to be preached in "No matter what!" situations. After the usual questionnaire of 'Why the boys didn't make it in time' in assembling, they were made to realize that the day was not as good as it seemed. They were reminded of being instructed earlier, to carry ropes, pegs and tarpaulin, but no one did.

"If you want to have pleasing 4 days here, you will have to get your own stuff", commanded the troop leader (TL) with a deep voice, "Now go to the town, and get the essentials!". "Do not forget, you still have to prepare your own food", and he left.

They left instantly, after they were dispersed from the usual horse-shoe formation and started the weary walk to the town market (the same way they very excitedly walked early that morning). After traversing a distance of 8, they started building their canvas homes. An hour of sweatful construction in the now bright sunshine, they wore their long white chef caps and prepared lunch for themselves. The afternoon nap, in the tent, was truly the walnut in the brownie kinds. The day ended quite in ease, with a rejuvenating dip in Duct-Line, cutting from behind the camping area and the campfire activities with some amazing performances by the tireless fellows. This ended Day 1 in a 'not so bad' terms.

Hmm, I think it's high time we introduced one of the boys of this troop - Mst. Skroozin. He faced the same as the others that day, maybe a little more since he was 124kms away from home, more specifically parents! Lying on his back in the pitch-dark room, all he could see were the fire-flies pillowing on the high roof above him. He started looking for a tube of 'Odomos' to repel those wretched from sucking on him. Instead he managed to put something better on him, something that he would have on his enamel some hours later. Though it did manage to keep those blood-suckers away, all night, it also very much managed to burn all night in places not worth mentioning!

The next day brought a new hope, with the rising sun. With time constraint set such, the boys had to bathe in a group of 4 in a 2 by 2, in order to meet up with ticking hands. Just as they always assembled every Sunday at August Kranti Maidan, Bombay, today they were to assemble too. Just a small re-direction here. Mst. Skroozin was the Patrol Leader (PL) of the Wolves patrol. His duties (rather all the PL's there) were to make sure that his patrol was ready in time for the assembly. And as the mother fate had to pierce the arrow on someone special today, there it was Mst. Scroozin, given the task to prepare the group flag for the hoisting. It was his first time, that he had to do it all on his own - from folding the flag, to knotting it and to raising it up folded on to the pole.

The whistle blew, the patrols were assembled in the horse-shoe and Scout Skroozin was given orders to hoist the flag after the short group song. The eyes widened, the stares went on, the hearts pounded and the pulses rose. The Troop Leader (TL) removed his golden yellow Lanyard instantly, pulled Scout Skroodzin's hand in the front and 'Saaat saat saat', there they went on his hands, leaving dark red scars of wound rope on his fair forearms. He right away shouted, "Scout Scroodzin!, what is this!?! How can you do such a thing, this is a shame on one and all!". "I am giving you exactly 5 mins, do whatever you can, I want this flag hoisted in the correct manner!" "Troop Disperse!" and there we walked away with wrath.

"What happened!?" enquired he with the boys. "Look behind you fool, look what you did! He is gonna screw you now. How could you hoist the flag upside down???" "Go and correct it!"

In his mind he said, "So what if it was upside down, just turn it around and hoist it again". Mother fate, help this guy, I just hope he doesn't just speak out, what he just thought!

Well, after 5 mins, the flag was hoisted again, correctly this time (phew!) the assembly got over, the others were told to go back to their places and to get ready for Inspection, while Scout Skroodzin was told to stay back. One, two, three... there they went, kicks that warmed his back. "Scout Skroodzin, I want you to clean up this entire area off dry leaves, and after you're done report to me", yelled the TL. How much more could the 14 year old sensitive Sagittarian handle. Innocent tears dropped from his eyes and damped the dry ground below as he bent and started collected the dry leaves. "I have never done this even at home!", thought he. After an hour of cleaning, he was now instructed to run around the field, do a Duck-Walk and Bunny-Hops and yes not to forget, the food for the patrol would be prepared all by himself that day.

With the sun drowning behind the mulberry trees, his bones, now felt so soft and rubberified, he could barely stand and walked as if he just had a... forget it, not for general public :) The day ended and so did the fear of having any worse day. And as of now, he still wonders why didn't they just turn the flag upside down and let it go. BIG DEAL!!!