I finally went looking for him. My carpenter has been evading me many times. Whenever I called his mobile phone, I have been regaled to a dialogue by Rajnikanth. Something to the effect that "don't trust a woman who is overambitious or a man who is angry beyond adequate measure". While I could recite the entire line without passable mistakes after several such futile calls, I just couldn't get to talk to him. And I just couldn't get the connection between a woman's ambition and a man's anger. Meanwhile the fragile peace at home was occasionally shattered with complaints of broken windows, doors and other wooden stuff which need repairs. I decided to track him down and maybe personally persuade him to come. Nothing like a wee bit of personal touch, y'know, even if it entails a trip to the nearby mass housing colony in sub-optimal conditions (er......slum). And maybe, if time permits, seek a clarification on Rajnikant's blood curdling lines on a woman's greed and a man's temper. Maybe advise him to migrate to a latest romantic Tamil song as his caller tune. It just might soothe some frayed nerves of persistent callers.
It was sunset when I saw him. The music was blaring and the residents of the mass housing-whatever had come out in large numbers. They gathered around the dry water tap shooting the breeze, picking lice from random hairs (women) swilling booze from random pint bottles (men) and throwing balls of various sizes (kids) and all this while watching reruns of old Tamil movies on the 14" TV kept in the courtyard of the mass-housing for sub-optimal conditions- the tiny TV came as a rare fulfilled election promise. Looked like a microcosm of happy Indian society with food to eat, place to sleep, clothes to wear and old Tamil movies to watch on a 14" colour TV. They haven't started aspiring yet for power, roads and other small luxuries like Jimmy Choo shoes.
On TV, a guy with huge sideburns, cakes of makeup, hair puffed up, sporting a pencil - thin mustache and wearing an overcoat with large checks, was dancing with a buxom woman who appeared rather scantily dressed for the snowy locales. Discrimination in the Tamil movie business, I muttered. Let the woman freeze while the guy is snug and cosy in an overcoat.
His eyes had that glazed look in them. He reeked of that magic potion which comes from tiny bottles from TASMAC shops (as the liquor shops are known in Chennai) . Did his speech slur? For a moment he didn't recognize me." Saar, you here?..." he asked. I told him jovially that I wanted to see him in person and ask him about those lines from Rajnikant. He missed that Hi-ho well-met humour and started explaining the deep twists and mysterious meanings in Rajnikant's lines and the mistakes in my rendering of it. I interrupted him and asked him when would it be convenient to turn up at my humble abode of the creaking windows and jittery doors. "Tomorrow is election: day after tomorrow I am going to Gummidipoondi.I will come the day after that" He checked his virtual organizer implanted in his brain cells and recited. Except that I knew that he never makes good a promise, unlike the chief minister who gave 14"colour TVs to his subjects after winning a landslide election. That was one major, visible, in-your face election promise fulfilled and the streets and homes are full of reruns of old Tamil movies as a result of that. I told him that his promises are not like Kalaignar's (the Chief Minister- a man sporting dark glasses eternally).
To those who are out of the entertainment loop called Indian politics,- This State, Tamilnadu, makes no bones about the fact that politics is entertainment. Entertainers are politicians. They come in all shapes and sizes. Erstwhile scriptwriters, sex kitten- heroines, comedians, movie producers. You don't have to look far towards Bihari politicians with earthy mannerisms for your daily dose of humour. They are all out there, one feet in the entertainment business and the other in politics- if not entertaining masses in movies, then doing likewise in politics. The average Senthil living in Mass-housing in sub-optimal conditions is thrilled and tickled to the bones at this outpouring of entertainment from everywhere.
He then started an involved discussion on Politics, producing blockbuster movies , erstwhile actors, telecom scams and sundry other topics in an election cauldrom in an eclectic and unstructured fashion. I couldn't make the connection between these diverse issues- Much like Rajnikant's baritone lines on greedy women and angry men. What about money, I asked. Are you paid to vote? Aren't you given Rs 500 notes in an envelope along with pint bottle and biriyani for your valuable vote?
He said why call it buying votes? Aren't cricket players owned by IPL teams? Aren't politicians sponsored by businessmen? I have something they need and they pay me for it. Well, that was a strong piece of logic, I said. But why are you content with a bottle of liquor and a biriyani? I asked. Can't you price your vote higher? Can't you ask for better roads, uninterrupted power, water supply and regular clearing of garbage which seem to have inundated your colony? "Saar that is for you people. Our dreams have a lifespan of three days. They are imminent and last as long as the elections. After that things will be back to normal."
This conversation wasn't going right. I said goodbye. "See you in two days: Whom are you voting for?", I asked. Well, he said he is weighing his options. There have been sundry promises this time. Of mixers and grinders, of laptops to 11th standard students. Chathu is going to 11th and these promises are timely, I thought. I started wondering about possible configurations of the promised laptop which, I suppose, would be of mass-promise standards. One party has even promised cows and buffaloes for every home, he said. Do they provide parking space for cows and buffaloes, I asked. He said they don't need parking space . Unlike the car you own, cows are self propelled. They move in the colony, block traffic and live off the streets. Good for you, I said. I promised to give him the cow I get and shall make do with the laptop for my son.
Election are over and results are awaited. I am still waiting for him to make good his promise and turn up for the repairs.
On TV, a guy with huge sideburns, cakes of makeup, hair puffed up, sporting a pencil - thin mustache and wearing an overcoat with large checks, was dancing with a buxom woman who appeared rather scantily dressed for the snowy locales. Discrimination in the Tamil movie business, I muttered. Let the woman freeze while the guy is snug and cosy in an overcoat.
His eyes had that glazed look in them. He reeked of that magic potion which comes from tiny bottles from TASMAC shops (as the liquor shops are known in Chennai) . Did his speech slur? For a moment he didn't recognize me." Saar, you here?..." he asked. I told him jovially that I wanted to see him in person and ask him about those lines from Rajnikant. He missed that Hi-ho well-met humour and started explaining the deep twists and mysterious meanings in Rajnikant's lines and the mistakes in my rendering of it. I interrupted him and asked him when would it be convenient to turn up at my humble abode of the creaking windows and jittery doors. "Tomorrow is election: day after tomorrow I am going to Gummidipoondi.I will come the day after that" He checked his virtual organizer implanted in his brain cells and recited. Except that I knew that he never makes good a promise, unlike the chief minister who gave 14"colour TVs to his subjects after winning a landslide election. That was one major, visible, in-your face election promise fulfilled and the streets and homes are full of reruns of old Tamil movies as a result of that. I told him that his promises are not like Kalaignar's (the Chief Minister- a man sporting dark glasses eternally).
To those who are out of the entertainment loop called Indian politics,- This State, Tamilnadu, makes no bones about the fact that politics is entertainment. Entertainers are politicians. They come in all shapes and sizes. Erstwhile scriptwriters, sex kitten- heroines, comedians, movie producers. You don't have to look far towards Bihari politicians with earthy mannerisms for your daily dose of humour. They are all out there, one feet in the entertainment business and the other in politics- if not entertaining masses in movies, then doing likewise in politics. The average Senthil living in Mass-housing in sub-optimal conditions is thrilled and tickled to the bones at this outpouring of entertainment from everywhere.
He then started an involved discussion on Politics, producing blockbuster movies , erstwhile actors, telecom scams and sundry other topics in an election cauldrom in an eclectic and unstructured fashion. I couldn't make the connection between these diverse issues- Much like Rajnikant's baritone lines on greedy women and angry men. What about money, I asked. Are you paid to vote? Aren't you given Rs 500 notes in an envelope along with pint bottle and biriyani for your valuable vote?
He said why call it buying votes? Aren't cricket players owned by IPL teams? Aren't politicians sponsored by businessmen? I have something they need and they pay me for it. Well, that was a strong piece of logic, I said. But why are you content with a bottle of liquor and a biriyani? I asked. Can't you price your vote higher? Can't you ask for better roads, uninterrupted power, water supply and regular clearing of garbage which seem to have inundated your colony? "Saar that is for you people. Our dreams have a lifespan of three days. They are imminent and last as long as the elections. After that things will be back to normal."
This conversation wasn't going right. I said goodbye. "See you in two days: Whom are you voting for?", I asked. Well, he said he is weighing his options. There have been sundry promises this time. Of mixers and grinders, of laptops to 11th standard students. Chathu is going to 11th and these promises are timely, I thought. I started wondering about possible configurations of the promised laptop which, I suppose, would be of mass-promise standards. One party has even promised cows and buffaloes for every home, he said. Do they provide parking space for cows and buffaloes, I asked. He said they don't need parking space . Unlike the car you own, cows are self propelled. They move in the colony, block traffic and live off the streets. Good for you, I said. I promised to give him the cow I get and shall make do with the laptop for my son.
Election are over and results are awaited. I am still waiting for him to make good his promise and turn up for the repairs.
No comments:
Post a Comment