And so I stood there inspecting the carnage ; the knife in my hand was conspicuously dripping red. I could see my fingerprints all over the handle........
It was too late now!! Not that I had wanted to do it , but the deed had to be done. There were noises from the next room; howls of pain, of horror and absolute disgust...I called out but there was no reply…. Perhaps my feeble voice was drowned out by sources more powerful!! I could not just let it be. Had to do something about it. And so I went over there; knife in hand…
I saw him down there. He half turned around; as I came up behind him.He saw the knife in my hand. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at me.…………………………………………………!!
And so I asked my roomie " Bugger, I’m done cutting the tomatoes; have u done the onions???
" Yeah, just through" he handed over the plate of cut onions. He then took another swig of the beer and offered it to me.
" Doesn’t look like Arsenal will win this one; can you believe Henry missed so many clear chances........."
******************************************************************************************************************************************
Well, people- sorry for the anti-climax ; this was a Sunday evening scene 3 years after had I started working and moved out of the hostel. It had been a long journey till then…. And since then too..
In the hostel (read about it in my previous post http://o3.indiatimes.com/jonagil/archive/2005/04/22/102554.aspx ) there was no need to cook or rather it was like no opportunity to light a fire- let it be for food, cigarettes or arson-it was a grave crime leading to expulsion. Stoves were banned and though they say you can fry an egg using the back of an electric iron ; I didn’t want to try that and later walk around wearing clothes that smelled like scrambled eggs. Especially in a Gujju college ! Anyway all good things come to an end; my MBA got over and I had to move out of the hostel and look for alternate accommodation..
Took a flat in Kandivli with a first set of roomies who were not too proficient in cooking. One had his fiancée staying nearby and hence would return every night only after dinner. The other was an "incomplete evolution" Neanderthal who did not believe in cooking particularly. He would have happily have uncooked bacon or raw eggs straight out of the refrigerator. Some mornings when he actually decided to try toasting bread I used to wake up dreaming that I was a Jew in Auschwitz and just got herded into the gas chamber.
Later on, I moved to another flat where I had a roomie who was a Hotel Management graduate. The best thing about him was that if persuaded with Scotch and some Pink Floyd he would even make excellent gourmet Chicken-au-gratin. Anyway once a lucky girl hooked this cook (don’t know whether he cooks still) ; he moved out and I was robbed of both a roommate and cook….
And so I moved to another flat in Borivli this time with a mallu pal. And so Mumbai being the melting pot of cultures I decided to get a melting pot (or rather a frying pan) myself. And a gas stove, with the necessary utensils…
I wanted to try rice-my staple food; so got a cooker; after the first few attempts where either I had to have teeth-challenging go-natural semi-cooked rice and some other times when the maid had to scrape the burnt remnants of what was rice off the cooker- I learnt to make rice which looked smelled and tasted edible.
That was just the beginning. Soon I could make everything. Well let me clarify I could make anything with tomatoes n onions. For me it was simple- Take any of eggs, fish, prawns, (mom used to send by courier these 2 in pickled format) or even cauliflower (well I liked cauliflower but I had to first butcher it into pieces. The sheer cruelty of it made me stay non-veg :-))). Put it into the pan with with tomatoes n onions. Add some chill powder n go easy on salt because if you add too much you cant do anything about it but the reverse is compensate-able. If the resultant concoction becomes too spicy, just add ketchup; if its bland, have another drink to numb your senses! I tried it on myself and my roomie too. You would be wondering what happened to him. He survived it !!! And lives to this day with most faculties intact. And guess what? He even blogs!
Armed with this confidence of being able to cook I went to London on a project. Where I found cooking an entirely different ball game…. For starters there was this wierd microwave oven, which I couldn’t quite comprehend. And the damn contraption did not come with a manual. A friend once put a raw egg inside the microwave expecting a boiled egg in 2 minutes. Accordingly; she took out the egg after 5 min and was admiring it in her hand when BANG! It exploded!!!! All over her face! Absolutely inexplicably! I gave theories like maybe the supermarket had stocked dinosaur eggs from Jurassic times or maybe Harry Potter had pointed a wand and charmed it with an "Ovum Explodum" egg-exploding hex on it. Her friends told her that it improved her complexion considerably; (now all of you female readers please don’t try this at home) she was reported to be completely off anything involving eggs for a few months after this….
Wary of microwaves I decided to try some cooking on the cooking range which had a heating element instead of fire.. After some investigation I figured out which was on and which was off. And once it turned red it meant you could heat food on it. So one evening I put something on the stove and went over to the living room with a beer in hand contemplating on the wide variety of TV shows we were deprived of back home.. And then an eerie noise filled the apartment- something which sounded like a hovering flying saucer or like Godzilla in pain. In a few seconds I heard a knock on the door amidst the din. I opened the door slowly expecting to find a little green martian. Instead there stood the apartment caretaker who informed me not too kindly that my smoke detector (which was not quite calibrated to account for Indian Cooking) had triggered off the fire alarm and woke up the apartment complex. Thank god it was not nowadays. I would have instead stared into a team of London Police Squad who would have proceeded to shoot me rightaway without further ado for being a suspected bomber. Anyway after this unfortunate incident , when anyone of us started cooking it was mandatory to have someone tall, cupping the smoke detector through out the process.and to have all the windows open even if all were freezing inside.
Thankfully in Bangalore life is much simpler; God’s own cuisine from God’s own country is so widely available that my cooking exploits are not many or too frequent…Maybe the neighbors are destined to be lucky or maybe I was just a flaash in the pan!
Bon Appetit!
(Hope you liked this one. Am still managing just one post a month..Trying to do better than that. Anyway do leave a comment and mail in if you'd like any of my recipes at flaashgordon@gmail.com . Also put in a note if u'd like me to notify you when i have a new post
btw Was inspired by Silverine's post “ “ Teaching a guy to cook...
Monday, August 29, 2005
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Rukavat ke Liye khed hai !! - Soda kiskkaa hai and other Hindi horror stories ...
The Summer Projects season was an eagerly awaited time during our engineering course. This was the time for us all to travel Northwards from Gods Own Country to hitherto unexplored lands for 2 months of Industrial Training
And after 2 hot summer months of various (mis) adventures, July was the time to get together and swap all those stories. Tall tales of lands so hot in summer that comparatively boiler rooms seems air-conditioned; places where rum is cheaper than water and places without either water or rum!! (Ok , its just Chennai, Goa and Bhavnagar (in Gujarat) if you are curious)
And there we used to swap stories of faux pas with one particular foreign language- Hindi! A language of such complexity that many could not master it even 7 years of learning it in School and College. Well, ok as many will admit; learning is one thing; speaking was quite a different ballgame altogether. Only when you actually try do you realize the gaps in your Rashtrabhaasha Adhhyaapan. Coz I'm not talking about any semi-educated country bumpkins here.On the other hand these are guys who would derive a 4 page long engineering equations in seconds; and were acknowleged best of brains studying at a highly sought after engg college.But still there were enough issues with Hindi that you could write a Harry-Potter-size-Best-Seller on " What they did not teach you at Harvard Primary School".
Anyway, narrating a few of those Hindi Horror stories with all apologies to the Original Protagonists…………
The first one happens on a rainy morning where three of our heroes are doing their project in an Andheri office. One of them " Satish" walks in when the other 2 guy stop behind at the Pan / bidi shop for a smoke.
The cute receptionist smiles at him as he comes in dripping wet with a wet folded umbrella and asks "Hi ! Baarish hai kyaa?"
Our man thinks there is a major identity crisis here!! . So he states proudly " Nahi, nahi mein Satish hoon !!!"
The cute receptionist stifles a cute giggle and clarifies " Meine poocha ki BAAHAR Baarish hai kya???"
Some long forgotten chapter of a Standard 5 Hindi text book flashes in the guy’s head and remembers that baahar means outside. " Oh, ok ok baahar… Baahar Anish aur Harish hai…Smoking Cigarette !!!!!"
Well, the poor guy became the butt of many jokes later that even if a faux pas happened to anyone else; it used to get published on his name. Like the one about the time when he was at a New Mumbai station waiting for the train. Neither him nor his pal had a watch and the platform clock was not working either . A rather plumpish lady was the only person nearby and they noticed she had a watch.
"Go ask her the time" The friend tells our man. " In Hindi??" Our man is understandably a bit scared. "Yeah , its simple. Just ask Kitne baje huvey" .The friend is confident though he doesn’t volunteer himself. The lady is now warily looking at the two "dangerous looking" guys as she saw them pointing at her and whispering something. She clutches her handbag instinctively.
Our man approaches; points at her watch (or well, say somewhere around where her watch is at that moment) and asks "Excuse me; Kitne Bacchhey huvey??? !!!!"
Well, there are conflicting reports about what happened afterwards so I cant tell for sure. Am not sure about injuries or casualties but one thing I know is that both the guys had a quantum leap in their vocabulary of Hindi swear words overnight!……
Much of the essential Hindi conversation was necessitated at various shops when buying those bare essentials for your stay in the foreign land. I do not really recall where the following incident took place or even IF it took place; but if you are not a stickler for such trivia, just read on…..
Two weary souls were returning back to the hostel on a hot summer day in this North Indian town (For us, North India means any place north of Calicut anyway). Anyway there was this juice/ milkshake shop that looked inviting. They decided to have a Banana Milk Shake each from the menu displayed. This is how the conversation went…
Our Hero : " Bhaisaab, Do Banana"
Shopkeeper : " Kyaa banaana?"
Our Hero repeats : "I mean bhaisaab, do banana"
Shopkeeper : " Wohi bhai, Kyaa banaaoon aapke liye?" (He looks at him as if he has gone bananas himself)
The two heroes look at each other in utter confusion. It dawns that banana does mean something else in Hindi but the knowledge as such is not enough for resolving the situation. Also neither knows if there is a Hindi word for Banana. No Hindi teacher in school had prepared them for such a situation in Hindi-land. The hassled shopkeeper does not look like one to mess with. Finally our hero decided to take no more chances " Bhaisaab, Do Banana banana !!!"
Another guy once went for food at a little Udupi restaurant. He wanted to ask the waiter for some warm water as he had a heavy cold. Only, he kind of mixed up the temperature settings assigned by the inventors of Hindi to various words. So he asked" Boss, thanda paani denaa". He realized the faux pas when the waiter placed a glass of sub zero chilled water. Though he racked his brains for the Hindi word for "warm" at that desperate moment ; those little gray cells did not throw up any answers. Only option was to leverage his knowledge of thermodynamics " Boss, Paani Room Temperature mein laana" !!!!
There is another story titled "Soda Kiskaa hai? Coz that is what another hero asked a shopkeeper. No problems with that , except that he was the one (the only one) who just had a soda when everyone else had softdrinks "Aap ne hi tho piya thaa" said the shopkeeper. Ok ok but "Soda Kiskaa hai?" he persisted. The friends reminded him again that it was he who had the soda. He clarified indignantly "I was asking the price, Soda kiskaa hai?"!!!
From that time on "Soda Kiskaa hai?" became his officially designated signature line.
And also classic status has been attained by the transcript of his conversation with a policeman at the Karwar checkpost (Goa-Karnataka border) where he was caught with 3 litres of wine in his bag. Well, I was in the bus too this time J
Police: Yeh , teen litre kaa wine hai
Our man: Nahi, nahi.. yeh teen litre kaa wine hai !!!
Policeman is dumbfounded by the logic …but persists
Police: Yeh 3 litre kaa wine hai. Iskaa duty denaa padegaa
Our man: Hum Students hai, duty nahi karte hain (!!)
Police: Woh nahi , iska tax..maane payment - duty denaa padegaa
Our man: Hum Goa gaye. Dukanom se poocha!! Dukan ne kahaa wine ka no duty hai (they have speaking shops thereabouts?)
Police: Aap 3 litre le ke aarahe hai. Sab milake Rs...(He quotes a figure) as duty
Our man: Hum students hai. Students gareeeeeeb hai. Students ko Concession milnaa chahiye ! Well, meanwhile I was praying that my own bags does not get checked too much and hence I didn’t stick around to hear the entire story. However as the story became famous he acquired the nickname "Gareeeeeeebu" and when anyone in college went bankrupt; he used to be called Gareeeb!
And there was one who went to buy a rope for tying a clothesline at a multi purpose store and asks. " Ek Rassi milegaa?". The shopkeeper replies. "Lassi nahi hain, Chhaas chalegaa?" Our man assumes it is some rope-substitute and okays it. After two minutes the guy comes from inside with a chilled glass of Buttermilk and offers it. Our man understands it as a nice North Indian Complimentary Welcome Drink Custom and glugs it down in a jiffy. He notices that the shopkeeper now regains his position at the counter and does not make any effort to look for any rope. He asked again and accompanied it with frantic actions of tying a clothesline; starting with hammering nails on a wall. The shopkeeper looks like he understands. " Acchaa, keela bhi chahiye aapko?? To cut a long story short; it is said that when the satisfied customer returned home it was with one packet of nails, a hammer and of course a bellyful of not-complimentary-chhaas !!
To drift a bit from the topic ; and to even things out a bit..here's the story of a Northie down South and a canteen waiter in a Trichur College. Ok don’t be shocked or offended; well the canteen menu had beef. ( Unfortunately its quite a common food item around those parts. Veggies, Please don’t hold it against me). Anyway there was this Northie student who was served this weird looking item along with regular meals. Well, FYI Keralites don’t generally acknowledge that there exists are a species called vegetarians. The student suspiciously asked the waiter what was on the side plate. The waiter replied all so indulgently "Beef!! And to his absolute shock, he added "Its compulsory here!!!" The student stormed out of the canteen and filed a complaint with the dean of the institute against the canteen. There was an enquiry and the culprit was questioned. The poor man confessed. " I only meant that he did not have to pay extra for it" Someone got it finally "You should’ve said complimentary, not compulsory !!"
Neway let me get back to the topic at hand.I’ll be accused of being politically incorrect if I don’t include some stories of those from the distaff side. Well, there weren’t too many girls in our course. But the few who were there did contribute generously to the kitty of Hindi horror stories. Like the one who went shopping at Fashion street, Mumbai and bargained hard. "Yeh top kitne kaa hain?" She asked " Dhedh sau rupaye (Rs150/-)" says the shop keeper. "Bahut costly hain! Two hundred hain tho mein letaa hoon". What a win-win situation for both the parties!! Quite understandably the shopkeeper agreed to the bargain rather quickly. It was only when she triumphantly described to people about how she got a 250 bucks top for 200 was the entire story revealed…and obviously caused a booming industry of such stories with her as the protagonist.
Like the time she warned a roadside bag seller when no amount of bargaining could get him to lower the prices." Hum, Panjim jaa kar another bag bechenge !!!I don’t know if threat of competition was something the bagseller accounted for, coz he gave in finally !! Anyway, the best story about her is an unconfirmed story of an Auto Driver who dared to overcharge her. He had asked for 40 bucks for the short trip to the hostel from the railway station. And she had never paid more than 30 before. So she bargained hard " Thees se kam, hum kabhi nahin dete !!!"The confused Auto driver gave the balance accordingly and was reparing to drive off. And she informed the onlookers dramatically " Main loot gayi….. Is ne mujhe loot diya !!!" (Well, the driver still claims to be innocent of such a malicious charge)
****************************************************************************************
(Disclaimer: All people in these stories are still living somewhere in this world and all resemblance to any particular real life individuals or incidents is purely intentional.A couple of times i have relied on my creative instincts to embellish the “faded in memory parts” of a couple of stories)****************************************************************************************
Plz do leave a line on the comments column if u liked this piece or maybe even an anecdote if u have one to narrate yourself .on language fiascos..
And after 2 hot summer months of various (mis) adventures, July was the time to get together and swap all those stories. Tall tales of lands so hot in summer that comparatively boiler rooms seems air-conditioned; places where rum is cheaper than water and places without either water or rum!! (Ok , its just Chennai, Goa and Bhavnagar (in Gujarat) if you are curious)
And there we used to swap stories of faux pas with one particular foreign language- Hindi! A language of such complexity that many could not master it even 7 years of learning it in School and College. Well, ok as many will admit; learning is one thing; speaking was quite a different ballgame altogether. Only when you actually try do you realize the gaps in your Rashtrabhaasha Adhhyaapan. Coz I'm not talking about any semi-educated country bumpkins here.On the other hand these are guys who would derive a 4 page long engineering equations in seconds; and were acknowleged best of brains studying at a highly sought after engg college.But still there were enough issues with Hindi that you could write a Harry-Potter-size-Best-Seller on " What they did not teach you at Harvard Primary School".
Anyway, narrating a few of those Hindi Horror stories with all apologies to the Original Protagonists…………
The first one happens on a rainy morning where three of our heroes are doing their project in an Andheri office. One of them " Satish" walks in when the other 2 guy stop behind at the Pan / bidi shop for a smoke.
The cute receptionist smiles at him as he comes in dripping wet with a wet folded umbrella and asks "Hi ! Baarish hai kyaa?"
Our man thinks there is a major identity crisis here!! . So he states proudly " Nahi, nahi mein Satish hoon !!!"
The cute receptionist stifles a cute giggle and clarifies " Meine poocha ki BAAHAR Baarish hai kya???"
Some long forgotten chapter of a Standard 5 Hindi text book flashes in the guy’s head and remembers that baahar means outside. " Oh, ok ok baahar… Baahar Anish aur Harish hai…Smoking Cigarette !!!!!"
Well, the poor guy became the butt of many jokes later that even if a faux pas happened to anyone else; it used to get published on his name. Like the one about the time when he was at a New Mumbai station waiting for the train. Neither him nor his pal had a watch and the platform clock was not working either . A rather plumpish lady was the only person nearby and they noticed she had a watch.
"Go ask her the time" The friend tells our man. " In Hindi??" Our man is understandably a bit scared. "Yeah , its simple. Just ask Kitne baje huvey" .The friend is confident though he doesn’t volunteer himself. The lady is now warily looking at the two "dangerous looking" guys as she saw them pointing at her and whispering something. She clutches her handbag instinctively.
Our man approaches; points at her watch (or well, say somewhere around where her watch is at that moment) and asks "Excuse me; Kitne Bacchhey huvey??? !!!!"
Well, there are conflicting reports about what happened afterwards so I cant tell for sure. Am not sure about injuries or casualties but one thing I know is that both the guys had a quantum leap in their vocabulary of Hindi swear words overnight!……
Much of the essential Hindi conversation was necessitated at various shops when buying those bare essentials for your stay in the foreign land. I do not really recall where the following incident took place or even IF it took place; but if you are not a stickler for such trivia, just read on…..
Two weary souls were returning back to the hostel on a hot summer day in this North Indian town (For us, North India means any place north of Calicut anyway). Anyway there was this juice/ milkshake shop that looked inviting. They decided to have a Banana Milk Shake each from the menu displayed. This is how the conversation went…
Our Hero : " Bhaisaab, Do Banana"
Shopkeeper : " Kyaa banaana?"
Our Hero repeats : "I mean bhaisaab, do banana"
Shopkeeper : " Wohi bhai, Kyaa banaaoon aapke liye?" (He looks at him as if he has gone bananas himself)
The two heroes look at each other in utter confusion. It dawns that banana does mean something else in Hindi but the knowledge as such is not enough for resolving the situation. Also neither knows if there is a Hindi word for Banana. No Hindi teacher in school had prepared them for such a situation in Hindi-land. The hassled shopkeeper does not look like one to mess with. Finally our hero decided to take no more chances " Bhaisaab, Do Banana banana !!!"
Another guy once went for food at a little Udupi restaurant. He wanted to ask the waiter for some warm water as he had a heavy cold. Only, he kind of mixed up the temperature settings assigned by the inventors of Hindi to various words. So he asked" Boss, thanda paani denaa". He realized the faux pas when the waiter placed a glass of sub zero chilled water. Though he racked his brains for the Hindi word for "warm" at that desperate moment ; those little gray cells did not throw up any answers. Only option was to leverage his knowledge of thermodynamics " Boss, Paani Room Temperature mein laana" !!!!
There is another story titled "Soda Kiskaa hai? Coz that is what another hero asked a shopkeeper. No problems with that , except that he was the one (the only one) who just had a soda when everyone else had softdrinks "Aap ne hi tho piya thaa" said the shopkeeper. Ok ok but "Soda Kiskaa hai?" he persisted. The friends reminded him again that it was he who had the soda. He clarified indignantly "I was asking the price, Soda kiskaa hai?"!!!
From that time on "Soda Kiskaa hai?" became his officially designated signature line.
And also classic status has been attained by the transcript of his conversation with a policeman at the Karwar checkpost (Goa-Karnataka border) where he was caught with 3 litres of wine in his bag. Well, I was in the bus too this time J
Police: Yeh , teen litre kaa wine hai
Our man: Nahi, nahi.. yeh teen litre kaa wine hai !!!
Policeman is dumbfounded by the logic …but persists
Police: Yeh 3 litre kaa wine hai. Iskaa duty denaa padegaa
Our man: Hum Students hai, duty nahi karte hain (!!)
Police: Woh nahi , iska tax..maane payment - duty denaa padegaa
Our man: Hum Goa gaye. Dukanom se poocha!! Dukan ne kahaa wine ka no duty hai (they have speaking shops thereabouts?)
Police: Aap 3 litre le ke aarahe hai. Sab milake Rs...(He quotes a figure) as duty
Our man: Hum students hai. Students gareeeeeeb hai. Students ko Concession milnaa chahiye ! Well, meanwhile I was praying that my own bags does not get checked too much and hence I didn’t stick around to hear the entire story. However as the story became famous he acquired the nickname "Gareeeeeeebu" and when anyone in college went bankrupt; he used to be called Gareeeb!
And there was one who went to buy a rope for tying a clothesline at a multi purpose store and asks. " Ek Rassi milegaa?". The shopkeeper replies. "Lassi nahi hain, Chhaas chalegaa?" Our man assumes it is some rope-substitute and okays it. After two minutes the guy comes from inside with a chilled glass of Buttermilk and offers it. Our man understands it as a nice North Indian Complimentary Welcome Drink Custom and glugs it down in a jiffy. He notices that the shopkeeper now regains his position at the counter and does not make any effort to look for any rope. He asked again and accompanied it with frantic actions of tying a clothesline; starting with hammering nails on a wall. The shopkeeper looks like he understands. " Acchaa, keela bhi chahiye aapko?? To cut a long story short; it is said that when the satisfied customer returned home it was with one packet of nails, a hammer and of course a bellyful of not-complimentary-chhaas !!
To drift a bit from the topic ; and to even things out a bit..here's the story of a Northie down South and a canteen waiter in a Trichur College. Ok don’t be shocked or offended; well the canteen menu had beef. ( Unfortunately its quite a common food item around those parts. Veggies, Please don’t hold it against me). Anyway there was this Northie student who was served this weird looking item along with regular meals. Well, FYI Keralites don’t generally acknowledge that there exists are a species called vegetarians. The student suspiciously asked the waiter what was on the side plate. The waiter replied all so indulgently "Beef!! And to his absolute shock, he added "Its compulsory here!!!" The student stormed out of the canteen and filed a complaint with the dean of the institute against the canteen. There was an enquiry and the culprit was questioned. The poor man confessed. " I only meant that he did not have to pay extra for it" Someone got it finally "You should’ve said complimentary, not compulsory !!"
Neway let me get back to the topic at hand.I’ll be accused of being politically incorrect if I don’t include some stories of those from the distaff side. Well, there weren’t too many girls in our course. But the few who were there did contribute generously to the kitty of Hindi horror stories. Like the one who went shopping at Fashion street, Mumbai and bargained hard. "Yeh top kitne kaa hain?" She asked " Dhedh sau rupaye (Rs150/-)" says the shop keeper. "Bahut costly hain! Two hundred hain tho mein letaa hoon". What a win-win situation for both the parties!! Quite understandably the shopkeeper agreed to the bargain rather quickly. It was only when she triumphantly described to people about how she got a 250 bucks top for 200 was the entire story revealed…and obviously caused a booming industry of such stories with her as the protagonist.
Like the time she warned a roadside bag seller when no amount of bargaining could get him to lower the prices." Hum, Panjim jaa kar another bag bechenge !!!I don’t know if threat of competition was something the bagseller accounted for, coz he gave in finally !! Anyway, the best story about her is an unconfirmed story of an Auto Driver who dared to overcharge her. He had asked for 40 bucks for the short trip to the hostel from the railway station. And she had never paid more than 30 before. So she bargained hard " Thees se kam, hum kabhi nahin dete !!!"The confused Auto driver gave the balance accordingly and was reparing to drive off. And she informed the onlookers dramatically " Main loot gayi….. Is ne mujhe loot diya !!!" (Well, the driver still claims to be innocent of such a malicious charge)
****************************************************************************************
(Disclaimer: All people in these stories are still living somewhere in this world and all resemblance to any particular real life individuals or incidents is purely intentional.A couple of times i have relied on my creative instincts to embellish the “faded in memory parts” of a couple of stories)****************************************************************************************
Plz do leave a line on the comments column if u liked this piece or maybe even an anecdote if u have one to narrate yourself .on language fiascos..
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Final Episode of Motorcycle Diaries: Zen and the art of Motorcycle Disposal (Whew!!)
The second bike was still left unsold. All our attempts to sell it were failing miserably despite using all Philip Kotler fundas….
Then we did something a bit out of the box. We had befriended a salesman at the showroom. Jinx asked him if he could divert a buyer at the Showroom to buy our bike at a discount. We dangled a carrot of Rs 2000 out of the deal for him. He was our only hope now.
Days became weeks and there was no update from him. He was not answering his mobile & when we called him at the showroom they regularly gave the message that he was on leave.
Then one evening I met him on a Dadar station platform............
I let him have it! How he could be so irresponsible? Why had he not contacted us for long? He listened impassively to my tirade for a few minutes and then informed me ” I lost my job…Thanks to you!!!” He spat out the last part with a lot of venom....
I was the one on the defensive now “What??? I’m sorry man. What happened?”
It turned out that he had tried to do as we told. He tried to divert a buyer to our bike and the company found it out. They sacked him! Because of us. And our bikes.I was mumbling an apology when his train came. “I was getting Rs 4,000 per month. Now I don’t have any income to support my family” he let me know to add to my misery before he pushed through the sea of humanity and got a foothold on the train.
I stood there on the platform stunned as the train sped away. Another jobless man to add to the millions in Mumbai was no big news. But this one was jobless because of us in a really twisted way. The win was a dream for us. It had turned into someone else’s nightmare.I called up Jinx. He too was feeling real guilty…
This was the last straw. All this was already taking a toll on our work. Frequent visits to the showroom were becoming a pain and our rapport with our bosses was beginning to strain. We were now frustrated to the extent that we were asking every well-built guy we met whether he would like to buy a Bullet.
We decided to get it over with. So we called up a guy named Hamid who had called us earlier after our first ad and quoted a price that was about 25,000 less than actual. We had laughed at him then but now had no option. We told him that we are ready to deal at the price he quoted.He seemed to understand our predicament and very shrewdly quoted a price, which was even ridiculously lesser. A brand new Enfield at Rs 42,000 was virtually a steal for him. We still agreed meekly, not having an option.
Jinx was a married man and stayed with his parents. He was busy with stuff at home that weekend. I was handling this deal alone..
I met Hamid as decided at his shop in Jogeshwari. From his rather polished English on the phone I had expected a rather well to do businessman in a luxury goods store. But when after half an hour of search I located him, ther he was……………an unimpressive, slightly funny-looking man in a grimy checked shirt in a little cubicle sized sanitary ware shop.
Earlier he had claimed to be a Bullet aficionado and had told us how he wanted to add the bike to his collection. But as it turned out now he was not buying this for himself. He had another client and he was just the middleman.
He arrived in sometime. A 6’4” giant Sardarji on an ancient Bajaj scooter which seemed to disappear under him. I pitied the scooter the way you feel sympathy towards a old skinny horse carrying a giant knight in full body armor.
Introductions were through. The Sardarji owned Timber mill in Kurla. Looking at the scooter I felt that I was doing some public service by selling him the bike.
Hamid told us to proceed to the showroom. “On that thing??” I asked incredulously? Did not have an option. So I gingerly perched myself on the couple of inches gap left on the scooter-seat behind the Sardarji and so we carried on like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza on the same horse.
On the way the Sardarji asked me about the deal. He asked me how much I was getting for the bike. Quite honestly I said “ Rs 42,000”. He revealed that he was paying Rs 48,000!! I was outraged. Hamid was taking a cool Rs 6,000 without even lifting a finger. This was more of a rip-off than we had thought.Once at the showroom I called up Jinx. We decided that this was not an acceptable deal. Sardarji now came up with a counter-offer not involving Hamid. We really did not want to deal with Hamid’s client directly either as it wouldn’t look good. No deal was done in all the confusion.
Hamid called up now and I informed him that we would like to re-think and that we should get atleast Rs 44,000.
Jinx had got some other buyer in the meanwhile and we were getting a much better deal there. The new guy went and saw the bike at the showroom. We hoped this deal might work out.
The next day was a Monday; a busy afternoon at office, I received a call on my office number. It was Hamid. He had somehow found out about the new client. For the next 10 minutes he screamed and ranted over the telephone. He was a far cry from the polished businessman image he presented earlier. He threatened us with dire consequences if he did not sell him the bike. He told me that he would ensure that the bike would not ever get sold to anyone else. It was not about the deal but his honor. I held fort. Asked him to call up later and that we would settle only for a better deal. Being in office I was conscious of my surroundings and I had thought spoke at a low voice. But at the end of the call colleagues came over and asked me what the ruckus was about!!
The next morning another beautiful dream was prematurely paused when I was woken by a call from George, the mallu Bullet showroom manager. He seemed quite disturbed. Right away he asked me to sell the bike to Hamid and even think of looking for any other buyer. I was intrigued and asked him what was troubling him. And George told me the behind the scenes story...
Hamid was much bigger than we thought. He was just a funny looking man in a cubicle-sized shop…… but one with enough links with the Mumbai underworld!!!!! And he had managed to call up someone who talked to George’s bosses in the company who in turn told George in no uncertain terms that the bike had to be sold to Hamid.
Simple! Straight off a Ram Gopal Verma gangster flick.
And we were no heroes. Not Sunny Deol & Anil Kapoor taking on the might of the unknown nether world which till now existed in movies. Neither of us wanted to think about the possibility of ending up as a bullet riddled body a la Satya. And all that for winning 2 Bikes in a Quiz.I was contemplating the newspaper headline the next day “An eye for an eye; Bullets for a Bullet”; “Bullet riddled bodies found at Bullet Showroom” or how about ”Bullet owners Bullet Riddled”. Or even “Hot shot executives shot dead”
Rather unpleasant thought, eh???
So when Hamid called up again; we simply said yes to whatever he asked for. Sardarji came on his rickety scooter once again. We went over to the showroom and the deal was signed. We shook hands while George looked on with some relief. Afterwards we went to Hamid’s shop who now heartily welcomed us and offered us soft drinks & snacks. The Sardarji handed us the money in his presence. All of us were smiling- We, the Sardarji, Hamid and Gandhiji (from the Rs 500 notes). Perfect Kodak Moment.
During the conversation Hamid asked us again how exactly we had won the bikes. “We won at the Business Quiz” I said. “Business Quiz???He asked...................Par aap logon ko tho Business ke bare mein kuch aate hi nahin!!!” He laughed loudly at his own joke.
That is how we left him. A funny looking man in a grimy shirt in a cubicle-sized shop….
Epilogue: We split the money and Jinx’s ordeal was over. I still had to sell my Pinnacle Saporiti furniture set. Could not think of keeping it in my bachelor pad. Would look like a BMW parked in a Dharavi slum, right?. And I couldn’t accept my roomie’s plan of converting our flat into a lounge bar and pub ;-))
After another month’s struggles; another newspaper ad; a lot of talking to architects, engineers, interior decorators, furniture shop owners , calling up friends and rich relatives, just anyone who could afford the set. Even followed a lead about a colleague’s ex-girlfriend’s dad who he said was primarily into gold smuggling and stayed in a duplex Sea facing Bandra Apt!!! (who says crime doesnt pay?)
Anyway the final buyer was quite a nice guy. A newly married automobile showroom manager who handed me the money without any hassle and dropped me home in his Pajero. The money was just about 50% of the actual prize of the set but I was willing for even less then. Of the entire prize value of nearly 1.5 lakhs; I finally raised just more than half the amount.
What did I do with the money? Well, apart from Rs 15,000 which I kept for myself, I sent the rest home to parents. My sis’ wedding was happening the next month and they could use it for expenses.
Quizzes…they happen every year…… ;-))
Then we did something a bit out of the box. We had befriended a salesman at the showroom. Jinx asked him if he could divert a buyer at the Showroom to buy our bike at a discount. We dangled a carrot of Rs 2000 out of the deal for him. He was our only hope now.
Days became weeks and there was no update from him. He was not answering his mobile & when we called him at the showroom they regularly gave the message that he was on leave.
Then one evening I met him on a Dadar station platform............
I let him have it! How he could be so irresponsible? Why had he not contacted us for long? He listened impassively to my tirade for a few minutes and then informed me ” I lost my job…Thanks to you!!!” He spat out the last part with a lot of venom....
I was the one on the defensive now “What??? I’m sorry man. What happened?”
It turned out that he had tried to do as we told. He tried to divert a buyer to our bike and the company found it out. They sacked him! Because of us. And our bikes.I was mumbling an apology when his train came. “I was getting Rs 4,000 per month. Now I don’t have any income to support my family” he let me know to add to my misery before he pushed through the sea of humanity and got a foothold on the train.
I stood there on the platform stunned as the train sped away. Another jobless man to add to the millions in Mumbai was no big news. But this one was jobless because of us in a really twisted way. The win was a dream for us. It had turned into someone else’s nightmare.I called up Jinx. He too was feeling real guilty…
This was the last straw. All this was already taking a toll on our work. Frequent visits to the showroom were becoming a pain and our rapport with our bosses was beginning to strain. We were now frustrated to the extent that we were asking every well-built guy we met whether he would like to buy a Bullet.
We decided to get it over with. So we called up a guy named Hamid who had called us earlier after our first ad and quoted a price that was about 25,000 less than actual. We had laughed at him then but now had no option. We told him that we are ready to deal at the price he quoted.He seemed to understand our predicament and very shrewdly quoted a price, which was even ridiculously lesser. A brand new Enfield at Rs 42,000 was virtually a steal for him. We still agreed meekly, not having an option.
Jinx was a married man and stayed with his parents. He was busy with stuff at home that weekend. I was handling this deal alone..
I met Hamid as decided at his shop in Jogeshwari. From his rather polished English on the phone I had expected a rather well to do businessman in a luxury goods store. But when after half an hour of search I located him, ther he was……………an unimpressive, slightly funny-looking man in a grimy checked shirt in a little cubicle sized sanitary ware shop.
Earlier he had claimed to be a Bullet aficionado and had told us how he wanted to add the bike to his collection. But as it turned out now he was not buying this for himself. He had another client and he was just the middleman.
He arrived in sometime. A 6’4” giant Sardarji on an ancient Bajaj scooter which seemed to disappear under him. I pitied the scooter the way you feel sympathy towards a old skinny horse carrying a giant knight in full body armor.
Introductions were through. The Sardarji owned Timber mill in Kurla. Looking at the scooter I felt that I was doing some public service by selling him the bike.
Hamid told us to proceed to the showroom. “On that thing??” I asked incredulously? Did not have an option. So I gingerly perched myself on the couple of inches gap left on the scooter-seat behind the Sardarji and so we carried on like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza on the same horse.
On the way the Sardarji asked me about the deal. He asked me how much I was getting for the bike. Quite honestly I said “ Rs 42,000”. He revealed that he was paying Rs 48,000!! I was outraged. Hamid was taking a cool Rs 6,000 without even lifting a finger. This was more of a rip-off than we had thought.Once at the showroom I called up Jinx. We decided that this was not an acceptable deal. Sardarji now came up with a counter-offer not involving Hamid. We really did not want to deal with Hamid’s client directly either as it wouldn’t look good. No deal was done in all the confusion.
Hamid called up now and I informed him that we would like to re-think and that we should get atleast Rs 44,000.
Jinx had got some other buyer in the meanwhile and we were getting a much better deal there. The new guy went and saw the bike at the showroom. We hoped this deal might work out.
The next day was a Monday; a busy afternoon at office, I received a call on my office number. It was Hamid. He had somehow found out about the new client. For the next 10 minutes he screamed and ranted over the telephone. He was a far cry from the polished businessman image he presented earlier. He threatened us with dire consequences if he did not sell him the bike. He told me that he would ensure that the bike would not ever get sold to anyone else. It was not about the deal but his honor. I held fort. Asked him to call up later and that we would settle only for a better deal. Being in office I was conscious of my surroundings and I had thought spoke at a low voice. But at the end of the call colleagues came over and asked me what the ruckus was about!!
The next morning another beautiful dream was prematurely paused when I was woken by a call from George, the mallu Bullet showroom manager. He seemed quite disturbed. Right away he asked me to sell the bike to Hamid and even think of looking for any other buyer. I was intrigued and asked him what was troubling him. And George told me the behind the scenes story...
Hamid was much bigger than we thought. He was just a funny looking man in a cubicle-sized shop…… but one with enough links with the Mumbai underworld!!!!! And he had managed to call up someone who talked to George’s bosses in the company who in turn told George in no uncertain terms that the bike had to be sold to Hamid.
Simple! Straight off a Ram Gopal Verma gangster flick.
And we were no heroes. Not Sunny Deol & Anil Kapoor taking on the might of the unknown nether world which till now existed in movies. Neither of us wanted to think about the possibility of ending up as a bullet riddled body a la Satya. And all that for winning 2 Bikes in a Quiz.I was contemplating the newspaper headline the next day “An eye for an eye; Bullets for a Bullet”; “Bullet riddled bodies found at Bullet Showroom” or how about ”Bullet owners Bullet Riddled”. Or even “Hot shot executives shot dead”
Rather unpleasant thought, eh???
So when Hamid called up again; we simply said yes to whatever he asked for. Sardarji came on his rickety scooter once again. We went over to the showroom and the deal was signed. We shook hands while George looked on with some relief. Afterwards we went to Hamid’s shop who now heartily welcomed us and offered us soft drinks & snacks. The Sardarji handed us the money in his presence. All of us were smiling- We, the Sardarji, Hamid and Gandhiji (from the Rs 500 notes). Perfect Kodak Moment.
During the conversation Hamid asked us again how exactly we had won the bikes. “We won at the Business Quiz” I said. “Business Quiz???He asked...................Par aap logon ko tho Business ke bare mein kuch aate hi nahin!!!” He laughed loudly at his own joke.
That is how we left him. A funny looking man in a grimy shirt in a cubicle-sized shop….
Epilogue: We split the money and Jinx’s ordeal was over. I still had to sell my Pinnacle Saporiti furniture set. Could not think of keeping it in my bachelor pad. Would look like a BMW parked in a Dharavi slum, right?. And I couldn’t accept my roomie’s plan of converting our flat into a lounge bar and pub ;-))
After another month’s struggles; another newspaper ad; a lot of talking to architects, engineers, interior decorators, furniture shop owners , calling up friends and rich relatives, just anyone who could afford the set. Even followed a lead about a colleague’s ex-girlfriend’s dad who he said was primarily into gold smuggling and stayed in a duplex Sea facing Bandra Apt!!! (who says crime doesnt pay?)
Anyway the final buyer was quite a nice guy. A newly married automobile showroom manager who handed me the money without any hassle and dropped me home in his Pajero. The money was just about 50% of the actual prize of the set but I was willing for even less then. Of the entire prize value of nearly 1.5 lakhs; I finally raised just more than half the amount.
What did I do with the money? Well, apart from Rs 15,000 which I kept for myself, I sent the rest home to parents. My sis’ wedding was happening the next month and they could use it for expenses.
Quizzes…they happen every year…… ;-))
Motorcycle Diaries: Zen and the art of Motorcycle Disposal (Episode II)
Please read my last post “Motorcycle Diaries: Zen and the art of Motorcycle Disposal (Episode I) “ before continuing further........................
The bikes were to be picked up from the showroom in Thane (a Mumbai suburb) .We could get them agree to keep those for some time ; then sell them to whomever and they could pick it up from there.....
Going to the bike showroom took half a day and cost 150 bucks both ways. 2 Local Trains, 1 AutoRide to the back of the beyond & repeat for return!! Obviously we did not want to visit there too many times. So we embarked on the Bike Disposal Venture with even heighted remarkable enthusiasm
Jinx and I were both Marketing grads. So we thought we ‘ll use some of those Mktg skills for this venture. We started with Positioning & Segmentation.....
First question ..Who can be our customer??
Profile of a Bullet rider :About 6 Ft tall ; macho (At least thinks he's macho) , totally crazy about bikes; actually loves maintaining the bike, (not like me who pushes the bike to the mechanic to have the spark plug cleaned and )
Age: Does not matter (not above 75 maybe)
Economic Status: Well, no clue. Maybe right from a local Dharavi daada to some rich stud Bandra boy
When i thought 6 footer; the first one who came to my mind was my cousin in the Naval Base in Lonavla! Bingo. Sub Lt. P. 6 Foot and Bike crazy.. Possible bakra.
Called him up ; He was all excited on the news of my winning the bike ; but he already had a relic Enfield handed over generations and could not think of disposing with it should the wrath of his ancestors fall upon him. It gave him unmeasurable pleasure to take it apart and put it back again. He had developed his muscles pushing the contraption down through the streets of Cochin and up the valleys of Lonavla!!
Then I thought further. There will be more like him where he is from. Yeah the Naval Base. I can always find a buyer there of the same profile!!
Also something i saw previous January 26th told me that there are not enough bikes with the Defense forces (check below link).
http://pib.nic.in/archieve/phtgalry/pgyr2002/pg012002/pg26jan2002/26012002i.html
Next day my cousin put a note in the Base Officers Mess Notice board on two Motorbikes for Sale. He assured me that these bikes will go in just 2 days and the Navy officers will be fighting between themselves to buy these.
I was happily imagining 2 smart “ White Attired; medals n all” Navy officers riding off to the sunset on our bikes;with me and Jinx standing on the side in a smart salute (with our pocket full of cash)
Days passed and then a week; Jinx started getting jittery…"Yaar yeh cousin tera call kuch kiyaa kya??" " He said he’ll call yaar" I said. After a long while ; my cousin called and told me there’s a slight problem "The Navy Cadets who weregetting promoted to officers will be getting their allowances after 3 months only. Lot of them will be picking up bikes (its a sort of a coming of age ritual for them; but all these .........only after 3 months. Alas !!
Enough of Patriotism. Let us get practical.. We decided to put an ad in Times of India. Spent some money on it. My coffers were near empty nowadays. Technically I was a Lakhpati with a total worth 1.5 lakhs about, not yet Bill Gates but getting there in a few light years). But somehow my bank account always displayed a four digit number. All I had was 2 envelopes; one telling me that Enfield is supposed to give me a bike; and the other telling me that Pinnacle Saporiti was to give me a Designer Furniture set !!
After some deliberation , me and Jinx decided to give both our cell numbers in the TOI ad.
I had worked till 3 am the day before the ad came on TOI. At about 6:45 in the morning I was in the middle of some dream where a girl who had taken my autograph after the quiz had turned into that pretty girl in HR. She had taken my phone no: And she was calling me…My mobile was ringing , ringing……………..I picked the phone and said hello in my most deep romantic sexy voice………………
A most harsh Gujju sounding male voice jolted me out of my reverie "Baaas, Aaj Times of India mein ek Bullet bechne ke liye ad dekhaa thaa. Uske bare mein poonchne kaa tha!!!"
Everything came back to me slowly "Huh, kaun??"
"Mein Hites bhai". He replied
I proceeded to tell him all about the Bullet and how were giving it for 8,000 less than the MRP. (This 8,000 figure we had reached upon after a lot of debate and after referring to Philip Kotler’s ideas on the 4 P’s of Marketing!!Bata pricing) remember paying 39.99 for a Bata Chappal) We kept the price at 59,000. Not quite 60,000 but amost there. Sounds like a good bargain to the buyer).
He asked where I had got the bike from so I proudly told him how I had won it in a quiz.
" Quijjj??, Yeh quijjj kya hota hai bhai?". He asked
"Boss, jaise yeh Kaun Banega Crorepati aata thaa na TV pe?? Vaisa hai quiz jeeta ek" I explained very patiently
A whole new respect came into his voice "Arre waah , aap CROREPATI jeet gaye?
"Nahi Boss, KBC nahi thaa. Waisa ek doosra quiz" I try explain
"Tho aap Bacchan saab se mile?? Kya bole woh??" He was still excited. He was talking to a crorepati who had actually shook hands with Mr Bachhan
I was fighting not to lose my cool " Nahin boss; KBC nahin thaa; Bacchan saab bhi nahin thaa. Bolaa naa yaar yeh Doosra Quiz thaa"
Our man was extremely disappointed by this turn of events." Aaap pehle bolte hai ki Crorepati jeeta ; phir bolta hai Bacchan saab se nahin milaa; yeh kyaa baat hui??"
I think we hung up by mutual consent…
This was just a tip of the iceberg. I had just managed to start off my dream from where I had stopped (alas there’s no pause button for dreams)) when the next call came. Calls just started pouring in thereafter; My roomie took his pillow n bed and wandered off into the other room.. I had to ignore his uncharitable comments on my family tree..
By the 17th caller i had been fielding various enquiries. I had flicked a Bullet brochure from the Showroom and was using it to talk about the Bhp and other features very knowledgebly ...
" I’m Saldhana" The caller was definitely in the sweet 60s ;"I’m an old bugger, heheheheh"
“Heheheh“ I replied in like just to get the rapport going……….
"I read about the bikes…." At last an English speaker
I repeated the same spiel on the bikes, price negotiable etc.That triggered a long story on his own bike.Then i said we won it in a Quiz. That triggered a long story about how his nephew Stanley used to be a champion in Quizzing. I listened patiently.He asked where I was from. When i mentioned Cochin that triggered a long story about his own Kerala trip. Somewhere after 25 minutes I gingerly asked him if he would like to come and see the bike at the showroom...
"The Bikes??, aaww no! as I said I’m an old bugger, I cant ride any bikes anymore. I had just called when I read about the bikes as I like Bullets. Good bikes, arent they?"………….
I silently cursed Jinx for answering that last question in the quiz. The 3rd prize had been a TV . We could be happily surfing channels sitting on our comfy couches this time
We figured that it was going to take us some time to sell the bikes. We had to buy time. So we went to the Bullet Showroom to negotiate. I pushed Jinx in front to speak to the Manager in Marathi; like everywhere else in Mumbai.But as we entered the room I saw that the manager with a thick bushy moustache who ushered us into his cabin was speaking on the phone in a rather familiar lingua franca. You gessed it right ; jezzt zimble yeveryday Malayalam!!!
“Leave this to me Jinx” I winked. I conducted the entire ensuing conversation in our dear old native tongue while Jinx sat like he was watching a ping-pong match with Chinese subtitles. Just after I had managed to locate a distant aundee of his who was a classmate of an ungle of mine in the gelf; I quickly changed the topic and asked for some time to sell the bikes as we had not found a buyer. He agreed reluctantly to keep the bikes in the showroom itself when I assured him that it would not be longer than 3 weeks
We put a second ad in the TOI with the prices slashed a further Rs. 5,000 !!
Around 25 calls on the first day. Around 10 on the second ; a couple of calls on the third and none on the fourth day.
From the 5th day Jinx and me started the reverse process of calling up everyone who had called us up for an enquiry. After every couple of hours we used to compare notes and reported responses such as
“I want to buy the bike; but my wife wants to buy a new Washing Machine instead”
“I want to buy the bike; but my daughter wants to buy a new TV instead”
" I want to buy the bike; but I want to get married first”
(Alas , It’s a vicious cycle..)
Slowly we were losing hope of ever being able to sell the bikes when one morning I got a call from someone who introduced himself to be a Sindhi Businessman based in Hong Kong. He said that he was interested in buying a bike and can pay the money down payment.
I was overjoyed and fixed a time of visiting the showroom that weekend. Once in office I rushed to see Jinx and with evident elation reported that my bike is sold. Jinx sported a similar grin on his face as he said that he also had found a buyer. Both bikes getting sold the same day !!!!!!We did a more enthusiastic high-five than when we had won the quiz !!
Then Jinx asked me who the buyer was
“ Some Sindhi Businessman from HONG KONG; I said proudly.
“Hey cool, man even my buyer is a Sindhi businessman from HONG KONG!! ” says Jinx
Buzzzzz....." Wait a sec “ It was our quizzer instincts that had buzzed this time.
“What was his name??” Jinx asked
“Some name like “Manmani” or something yaar” I said.
“Manmani”??? ……………or was it “Pamnani” ; Jinx asked with a slight decrease in enthusiasm & a marked increase in concern
“Yeah Pamnani”………I knew it.
It was the same guy who called both of us... It was not both the bikes but just one bike, which will be sold. Still one buyer is better than none
But the question now is whose bike as he had called both of us!! Like good quizzer buddies we made the pact right then…we’ll sell each bike and split the booty each time
On the fixed day I reached Thane after receiving thorough body massage in the Mumbai Local Trains. Met Jinx at Thane station and then we went over to the showroom.
We waited for the Businessman from Hong Kong to arrive……I had brought my camera along and we clicked snaps of each of us sitting on the Royal Enfield Thunderbird at the showroom. Had brought my dark sunglasses along and I felt I looked like Arnold in Terminator 2; though Jinx did not agree.
“Hasta la Vista Baby” I said in a real Austrian accent and Jinx thought maybe I had a point. Mebbe he did not want me to repeat to reinforce the point..
Well as things went later ; the more appropriate Arnold line was “I’ll be Back” (again and again and again)
The businessman arrived finally. An Esteem braked in front of the showroom and out stepped 2 guys. I was expecting a 6 ‘ 2’’ well built businessman with gold chains around his neck and gold watch on his wrist. But our buyer turned out to be hardly 5 ft tall businessman with gold chains around his neck and gold watch on his wrist. Even Jinx and me were towering above him…
There were no problems with the deal but for the fact that he wanted to buy a Thunderbird instead of an Electra and pay the difference. Though there was a minor confusion; after it all cleared the company allowed him that.
Our man wanted a test drive now and I was getting concerned.
Afterall, when this guy looked like a mahout on an elephant when he sat on the bike. The very existence of the second guy seemed for feeding our buyer’s ego. Our man sat on the bike; posed hero-like.
The chamcha was appreciative “ Waah!! Saab aap tho hero lag rahe hai” The guy beamed with pleasure. Jinx and me also agreed he looked like a filmstar. We did not specify which one coz we feared that the deal might be off if we did...
The chamcha was feeding us stories about how the saab can drive any motorbike and how he sets the streets ablaze with his Harley Davidson in Hongkong. We did look suitably impressed and resisted comments like whether the bike had 2 extra side wheels coz his feet would not reach the ground.
The man came back from his test drive and was happy with the bike. The deal was signed and everyone were all smiles. Now was the moment of truth. Our man whispered something to the chamcha and he went to the car and came back with paper packet. Out came some bundles of 500 rupee notes. Hadn’t seen so many of those for quite some time so I toyed with the idea of Xeroxing one for nostalgia sake.
He handed over the money to us and I did a quick check if it were all really Indian currency notes. Gandhiji smiled reassuringly on each of the notes told us that all was fine. We bid good bye to the duo as they sped away on their car. They were taking delivery later on a more auspicious day. We did not care; we had the money!!
We went over to the nearby restaurant and had Paav Bhaji with extra paav to celebrate!
(A minor success but a major boost to our efforts. Was it the end of our travails or was it just the beginning?? Dont go anywhere!!..the final episode is on its way.)
The bikes were to be picked up from the showroom in Thane (a Mumbai suburb) .We could get them agree to keep those for some time ; then sell them to whomever and they could pick it up from there.....
Going to the bike showroom took half a day and cost 150 bucks both ways. 2 Local Trains, 1 AutoRide to the back of the beyond & repeat for return!! Obviously we did not want to visit there too many times. So we embarked on the Bike Disposal Venture with even heighted remarkable enthusiasm
Jinx and I were both Marketing grads. So we thought we ‘ll use some of those Mktg skills for this venture. We started with Positioning & Segmentation.....
First question ..Who can be our customer??
Profile of a Bullet rider :About 6 Ft tall ; macho (At least thinks he's macho) , totally crazy about bikes; actually loves maintaining the bike, (not like me who pushes the bike to the mechanic to have the spark plug cleaned and )
Age: Does not matter (not above 75 maybe)
Economic Status: Well, no clue. Maybe right from a local Dharavi daada to some rich stud Bandra boy
When i thought 6 footer; the first one who came to my mind was my cousin in the Naval Base in Lonavla! Bingo. Sub Lt. P. 6 Foot and Bike crazy.. Possible bakra.
Called him up ; He was all excited on the news of my winning the bike ; but he already had a relic Enfield handed over generations and could not think of disposing with it should the wrath of his ancestors fall upon him. It gave him unmeasurable pleasure to take it apart and put it back again. He had developed his muscles pushing the contraption down through the streets of Cochin and up the valleys of Lonavla!!
Then I thought further. There will be more like him where he is from. Yeah the Naval Base. I can always find a buyer there of the same profile!!
Also something i saw previous January 26th told me that there are not enough bikes with the Defense forces (check below link).
http://pib.nic.in/archieve/phtgalry/pgyr2002/pg012002/pg26jan2002/26012002i.html
Next day my cousin put a note in the Base Officers Mess Notice board on two Motorbikes for Sale. He assured me that these bikes will go in just 2 days and the Navy officers will be fighting between themselves to buy these.
I was happily imagining 2 smart “ White Attired; medals n all” Navy officers riding off to the sunset on our bikes;with me and Jinx standing on the side in a smart salute (with our pocket full of cash)
Days passed and then a week; Jinx started getting jittery…"Yaar yeh cousin tera call kuch kiyaa kya??" " He said he’ll call yaar" I said. After a long while ; my cousin called and told me there’s a slight problem "The Navy Cadets who weregetting promoted to officers will be getting their allowances after 3 months only. Lot of them will be picking up bikes (its a sort of a coming of age ritual for them; but all these .........only after 3 months. Alas !!
Enough of Patriotism. Let us get practical.. We decided to put an ad in Times of India. Spent some money on it. My coffers were near empty nowadays. Technically I was a Lakhpati with a total worth 1.5 lakhs about, not yet Bill Gates but getting there in a few light years). But somehow my bank account always displayed a four digit number. All I had was 2 envelopes; one telling me that Enfield is supposed to give me a bike; and the other telling me that Pinnacle Saporiti was to give me a Designer Furniture set !!
After some deliberation , me and Jinx decided to give both our cell numbers in the TOI ad.
I had worked till 3 am the day before the ad came on TOI. At about 6:45 in the morning I was in the middle of some dream where a girl who had taken my autograph after the quiz had turned into that pretty girl in HR. She had taken my phone no: And she was calling me…My mobile was ringing , ringing……………..I picked the phone and said hello in my most deep romantic sexy voice………………
A most harsh Gujju sounding male voice jolted me out of my reverie "Baaas, Aaj Times of India mein ek Bullet bechne ke liye ad dekhaa thaa. Uske bare mein poonchne kaa tha!!!"
Everything came back to me slowly "Huh, kaun??"
"Mein Hites bhai". He replied
I proceeded to tell him all about the Bullet and how were giving it for 8,000 less than the MRP. (This 8,000 figure we had reached upon after a lot of debate and after referring to Philip Kotler’s ideas on the 4 P’s of Marketing!!Bata pricing) remember paying 39.99 for a Bata Chappal) We kept the price at 59,000. Not quite 60,000 but amost there. Sounds like a good bargain to the buyer).
He asked where I had got the bike from so I proudly told him how I had won it in a quiz.
" Quijjj??, Yeh quijjj kya hota hai bhai?". He asked
"Boss, jaise yeh Kaun Banega Crorepati aata thaa na TV pe?? Vaisa hai quiz jeeta ek" I explained very patiently
A whole new respect came into his voice "Arre waah , aap CROREPATI jeet gaye?
"Nahi Boss, KBC nahi thaa. Waisa ek doosra quiz" I try explain
"Tho aap Bacchan saab se mile?? Kya bole woh??" He was still excited. He was talking to a crorepati who had actually shook hands with Mr Bachhan
I was fighting not to lose my cool " Nahin boss; KBC nahin thaa; Bacchan saab bhi nahin thaa. Bolaa naa yaar yeh Doosra Quiz thaa"
Our man was extremely disappointed by this turn of events." Aaap pehle bolte hai ki Crorepati jeeta ; phir bolta hai Bacchan saab se nahin milaa; yeh kyaa baat hui??"
I think we hung up by mutual consent…
This was just a tip of the iceberg. I had just managed to start off my dream from where I had stopped (alas there’s no pause button for dreams)) when the next call came. Calls just started pouring in thereafter; My roomie took his pillow n bed and wandered off into the other room.. I had to ignore his uncharitable comments on my family tree..
By the 17th caller i had been fielding various enquiries. I had flicked a Bullet brochure from the Showroom and was using it to talk about the Bhp and other features very knowledgebly ...
" I’m Saldhana" The caller was definitely in the sweet 60s ;"I’m an old bugger, heheheheh"
“Heheheh“ I replied in like just to get the rapport going……….
"I read about the bikes…." At last an English speaker
I repeated the same spiel on the bikes, price negotiable etc.That triggered a long story on his own bike.Then i said we won it in a Quiz. That triggered a long story about how his nephew Stanley used to be a champion in Quizzing. I listened patiently.He asked where I was from. When i mentioned Cochin that triggered a long story about his own Kerala trip. Somewhere after 25 minutes I gingerly asked him if he would like to come and see the bike at the showroom...
"The Bikes??, aaww no! as I said I’m an old bugger, I cant ride any bikes anymore. I had just called when I read about the bikes as I like Bullets. Good bikes, arent they?"………….
I silently cursed Jinx for answering that last question in the quiz. The 3rd prize had been a TV . We could be happily surfing channels sitting on our comfy couches this time
We figured that it was going to take us some time to sell the bikes. We had to buy time. So we went to the Bullet Showroom to negotiate. I pushed Jinx in front to speak to the Manager in Marathi; like everywhere else in Mumbai.But as we entered the room I saw that the manager with a thick bushy moustache who ushered us into his cabin was speaking on the phone in a rather familiar lingua franca. You gessed it right ; jezzt zimble yeveryday Malayalam!!!
“Leave this to me Jinx” I winked. I conducted the entire ensuing conversation in our dear old native tongue while Jinx sat like he was watching a ping-pong match with Chinese subtitles. Just after I had managed to locate a distant aundee of his who was a classmate of an ungle of mine in the gelf; I quickly changed the topic and asked for some time to sell the bikes as we had not found a buyer. He agreed reluctantly to keep the bikes in the showroom itself when I assured him that it would not be longer than 3 weeks
We put a second ad in the TOI with the prices slashed a further Rs. 5,000 !!
Around 25 calls on the first day. Around 10 on the second ; a couple of calls on the third and none on the fourth day.
From the 5th day Jinx and me started the reverse process of calling up everyone who had called us up for an enquiry. After every couple of hours we used to compare notes and reported responses such as
“I want to buy the bike; but my wife wants to buy a new Washing Machine instead”
“I want to buy the bike; but my daughter wants to buy a new TV instead”
" I want to buy the bike; but I want to get married first”
(Alas , It’s a vicious cycle..)
Slowly we were losing hope of ever being able to sell the bikes when one morning I got a call from someone who introduced himself to be a Sindhi Businessman based in Hong Kong. He said that he was interested in buying a bike and can pay the money down payment.
I was overjoyed and fixed a time of visiting the showroom that weekend. Once in office I rushed to see Jinx and with evident elation reported that my bike is sold. Jinx sported a similar grin on his face as he said that he also had found a buyer. Both bikes getting sold the same day !!!!!!We did a more enthusiastic high-five than when we had won the quiz !!
Then Jinx asked me who the buyer was
“ Some Sindhi Businessman from HONG KONG; I said proudly.
“Hey cool, man even my buyer is a Sindhi businessman from HONG KONG!! ” says Jinx
Buzzzzz....." Wait a sec “ It was our quizzer instincts that had buzzed this time.
“What was his name??” Jinx asked
“Some name like “Manmani” or something yaar” I said.
“Manmani”??? ……………or was it “Pamnani” ; Jinx asked with a slight decrease in enthusiasm & a marked increase in concern
“Yeah Pamnani”………I knew it.
It was the same guy who called both of us... It was not both the bikes but just one bike, which will be sold. Still one buyer is better than none
But the question now is whose bike as he had called both of us!! Like good quizzer buddies we made the pact right then…we’ll sell each bike and split the booty each time
On the fixed day I reached Thane after receiving thorough body massage in the Mumbai Local Trains. Met Jinx at Thane station and then we went over to the showroom.
We waited for the Businessman from Hong Kong to arrive……I had brought my camera along and we clicked snaps of each of us sitting on the Royal Enfield Thunderbird at the showroom. Had brought my dark sunglasses along and I felt I looked like Arnold in Terminator 2; though Jinx did not agree.
“Hasta la Vista Baby” I said in a real Austrian accent and Jinx thought maybe I had a point. Mebbe he did not want me to repeat to reinforce the point..
Well as things went later ; the more appropriate Arnold line was “I’ll be Back” (again and again and again)
The businessman arrived finally. An Esteem braked in front of the showroom and out stepped 2 guys. I was expecting a 6 ‘ 2’’ well built businessman with gold chains around his neck and gold watch on his wrist. But our buyer turned out to be hardly 5 ft tall businessman with gold chains around his neck and gold watch on his wrist. Even Jinx and me were towering above him…
There were no problems with the deal but for the fact that he wanted to buy a Thunderbird instead of an Electra and pay the difference. Though there was a minor confusion; after it all cleared the company allowed him that.
Our man wanted a test drive now and I was getting concerned.
Afterall, when this guy looked like a mahout on an elephant when he sat on the bike. The very existence of the second guy seemed for feeding our buyer’s ego. Our man sat on the bike; posed hero-like.
The chamcha was appreciative “ Waah!! Saab aap tho hero lag rahe hai” The guy beamed with pleasure. Jinx and me also agreed he looked like a filmstar. We did not specify which one coz we feared that the deal might be off if we did...
The chamcha was feeding us stories about how the saab can drive any motorbike and how he sets the streets ablaze with his Harley Davidson in Hongkong. We did look suitably impressed and resisted comments like whether the bike had 2 extra side wheels coz his feet would not reach the ground.
The man came back from his test drive and was happy with the bike. The deal was signed and everyone were all smiles. Now was the moment of truth. Our man whispered something to the chamcha and he went to the car and came back with paper packet. Out came some bundles of 500 rupee notes. Hadn’t seen so many of those for quite some time so I toyed with the idea of Xeroxing one for nostalgia sake.
He handed over the money to us and I did a quick check if it were all really Indian currency notes. Gandhiji smiled reassuringly on each of the notes told us that all was fine. We bid good bye to the duo as they sped away on their car. They were taking delivery later on a more auspicious day. We did not care; we had the money!!
We went over to the nearby restaurant and had Paav Bhaji with extra paav to celebrate!
(A minor success but a major boost to our efforts. Was it the end of our travails or was it just the beginning?? Dont go anywhere!!..the final episode is on its way.)
(Episode 1) Motorcycle Diaries: Zen and the art of Motorcycle Disposal
Oct 24, 2002
Six Questions to go and we were still at the sixth place….......
The Corporate Quiz was an annual event held at this North Indian City. A Basketball stadium full of people! Unheard of for a quiz. Either they market it well or this is the only entertainment in the city. 3 B-School teams and 3 Corporates fighting it out in the final after 4 rounds. Started with 165 teams and finally . Big prizes at stake...
Last Buzzer Round!! Jinx (my quiz partner) did not even keep his fingers on the buzzer. In fact he was not even talking to me after a Dumb C round setback (yeah, the quiz had other rounds too) that cost us heavy. “Yeh quiz tho gaya, How could you screw up that Philips punchline ?“He was livid We were a big name team from Mumbai; but now losing to some not so famous teams; save two. Dreaded going to office the next day.....Same old cubicle, same boss, and absolutely nothing to look forward to.
The last round questions were on the buzzer…10 for a right ; negative 10 for a wrong one. Brand Related Questions. But not “strictly” as we found out soon
"Who has a house in Bangalore by the name Arzoo?" Arzoo-as-in-Arzoo.com??? I buzz." Sabeer Bhatia! . We score. " Next one- If u see a person named Sherry in a cricket dressing room…." (Easy Full toss! There’s only one Sherry I know.......Our own Shakespeare Sidhu" " I buzz again –"Navjyot Singh Sidhu." ..Got it!! Slightly better now; we are at fifth now. TOI team were the current leaders by miles. They had scored heavily on the gimmick rounds. IIM L were at number two playing safe in the last round like most others. I took advantage of this and answered the next two
All eyes in the packed Basketball Stadium the venue were now just on us. Just 2 more questions to go and we the team who were lying sixth had answered all the past 4 on the buzzer.. We are fourth now. Talk about high-drama.
I’m like a man possessed now…adrenalin pumping. ..Its like you are swinging at everything in the slog overs of a match and somehow everything is connecting in the middle of the bat !!
Then the quizmaster starts this weird question " Bengal Indore Jaipur; Orissa, Oudh Rajasthan.... What "brand" name do you get from this?? "
My little grey cells tingle Poirot-like -----A jingle, a product marketed in those areas? No! Oudh it cant be; and half the names are states and others cities. Seems it is a deliberate attempt to get some acronym right; ..Acronym??!! Yes, that’s it.. (All this data processing was in about 3 seconds I guess ;-))
I grabbed the pen and scribbled B-I-J-O-… and buzzed.Audience hasn’t quite figured what the question was about. They looked stunned when I buzzed. Jinx is staring at me as if I’ve gone nuts. I take the microphone and say " Bijoor- That’s your name, sir!"
Harish Bijoor the quiz master looked especially happy. (Heights, some plug .Quiz master's name as a brand !!! ) Audience gave us a thunderous applause! We were third now ; just 5 points behind IIM L who were at second now and looking like Ganguly facing a Glenn McGrath Delivery
C'mon man, I try get Jinxx pumped up too..Last Question- Fingers on the buzzer "The new Videocon Logo has 2 E’s which signifies something, what??". Jinxx springs into action this time ..Buzzzzz "Energy to Electronics" ! We get it !!! 6 out of 6 last qs on the buzzer with all other teams looking on. Unbelievable ! We do High Fives !!
We don’t win but end up Runners Up pipping the IIM team; quite a comeback
"We get the Bikes right??" Suddenly that thought hits Jinxx. Yeah!!!!!!. We win an Enfield Electra Bullet each!! Cool !! The winners get a laptop each…
There is then a lone wolf round where each guy in the top 2 teams (total 4) undergoes a Mastermind Style Rapid fire round. I beat Jinx & the TOI guysto top this and win the Brand Mahaguru title & a Furniture Set from Pinnacle Saporiti worth Rs 80,000 !!
Not bad earnings for an evening's work, eh??? Smug thought!
Prize distribution was elaborate. Hell lot of prizes. Big Red Turbans tied on our heads and we were carried around the stadium around the stadium in a Camel Cart.
Some Girls, Mgmt Students asked for my autograph!!! A few wanted to stand with me and pose for a photo (Mom/Dad what a pity you weren’t here).
My first brush with celebrityhood !! Page 3 , here i come !! (Actually Page 3 of a local Hindi paper had my snap the next day; trophy aloft; and looking like a contradiction of cultures- Red turban & black Rockband TShirt!!Bina mooch ke sardar )
Reality struck after we were back in the Hotel- We have the bikes but can we use them???
Jinx had never graduated beyond his tricycle in his childhood and though he knows even the year in which Harley Davidson set up shop in Milwaukee; cannot for his life actually ride even a TVS moped!!
My line of thought was different. My KB 125 which often ran out of Petrol (well, a bike does not start by optimism alone) had to be pushed to the nearest Petrol pump with my own bare hands. But pushing an Enfield?? Alas, I’ll have to first spend some money on a Bull worker and the Autobiography of Arnold Schwarznegger first!
We made the decision !! We had to sell both our bikes …. The officials told us that we could not exchange it for money. Sponsors wont like it…
And thus started the Saga of the unsold Bullets - Alternatively titled Zen and the art of Motorcycle Disposal
( Did Flaash and Jinxx manage to sell off the Bullets?? Did they regret ever winning these prizes? Wot are the characters they met & negotiated with in this effort? To get answers to these please Dont Miss my next post “Motorcycle Diaries- Zen and the art of Motorcycle Disposal (Episode 2)“)
WAIT WITH BATED BREATH....
(Hope to have this episode 2 up by this weekend, all depends on BESCOM)
.........btw my replies to all ur comments on B'lore roads blog is put up in the comments section..Plz check it out
Cheers
Six Questions to go and we were still at the sixth place….......
The Corporate Quiz was an annual event held at this North Indian City. A Basketball stadium full of people! Unheard of for a quiz. Either they market it well or this is the only entertainment in the city. 3 B-School teams and 3 Corporates fighting it out in the final after 4 rounds. Started with 165 teams and finally . Big prizes at stake...
Last Buzzer Round!! Jinx (my quiz partner) did not even keep his fingers on the buzzer. In fact he was not even talking to me after a Dumb C round setback (yeah, the quiz had other rounds too) that cost us heavy. “Yeh quiz tho gaya, How could you screw up that Philips punchline ?“He was livid We were a big name team from Mumbai; but now losing to some not so famous teams; save two. Dreaded going to office the next day.....Same old cubicle, same boss, and absolutely nothing to look forward to.
The last round questions were on the buzzer…10 for a right ; negative 10 for a wrong one. Brand Related Questions. But not “strictly” as we found out soon
"Who has a house in Bangalore by the name Arzoo?" Arzoo-as-in-Arzoo.com??? I buzz." Sabeer Bhatia! . We score. " Next one- If u see a person named Sherry in a cricket dressing room…." (Easy Full toss! There’s only one Sherry I know.......Our own Shakespeare Sidhu" " I buzz again –"Navjyot Singh Sidhu." ..Got it!! Slightly better now; we are at fifth now. TOI team were the current leaders by miles. They had scored heavily on the gimmick rounds. IIM L were at number two playing safe in the last round like most others. I took advantage of this and answered the next two
All eyes in the packed Basketball Stadium the venue were now just on us. Just 2 more questions to go and we the team who were lying sixth had answered all the past 4 on the buzzer.. We are fourth now. Talk about high-drama.
I’m like a man possessed now…adrenalin pumping. ..Its like you are swinging at everything in the slog overs of a match and somehow everything is connecting in the middle of the bat !!
Then the quizmaster starts this weird question " Bengal Indore Jaipur; Orissa, Oudh Rajasthan.... What "brand" name do you get from this?? "
My little grey cells tingle Poirot-like -----A jingle, a product marketed in those areas? No! Oudh it cant be; and half the names are states and others cities. Seems it is a deliberate attempt to get some acronym right; ..Acronym??!! Yes, that’s it.. (All this data processing was in about 3 seconds I guess ;-))
I grabbed the pen and scribbled B-I-J-O-… and buzzed.Audience hasn’t quite figured what the question was about. They looked stunned when I buzzed. Jinx is staring at me as if I’ve gone nuts. I take the microphone and say " Bijoor- That’s your name, sir!"
Harish Bijoor the quiz master looked especially happy. (Heights, some plug .Quiz master's name as a brand !!! ) Audience gave us a thunderous applause! We were third now ; just 5 points behind IIM L who were at second now and looking like Ganguly facing a Glenn McGrath Delivery
C'mon man, I try get Jinxx pumped up too..Last Question- Fingers on the buzzer "The new Videocon Logo has 2 E’s which signifies something, what??". Jinxx springs into action this time ..Buzzzzz "Energy to Electronics" ! We get it !!! 6 out of 6 last qs on the buzzer with all other teams looking on. Unbelievable ! We do High Fives !!
We don’t win but end up Runners Up pipping the IIM team; quite a comeback
"We get the Bikes right??" Suddenly that thought hits Jinxx. Yeah!!!!!!. We win an Enfield Electra Bullet each!! Cool !! The winners get a laptop each…
There is then a lone wolf round where each guy in the top 2 teams (total 4) undergoes a Mastermind Style Rapid fire round. I beat Jinx & the TOI guysto top this and win the Brand Mahaguru title & a Furniture Set from Pinnacle Saporiti worth Rs 80,000 !!
Not bad earnings for an evening's work, eh??? Smug thought!
Prize distribution was elaborate. Hell lot of prizes. Big Red Turbans tied on our heads and we were carried around the stadium around the stadium in a Camel Cart.
Some Girls, Mgmt Students asked for my autograph!!! A few wanted to stand with me and pose for a photo (Mom/Dad what a pity you weren’t here).
My first brush with celebrityhood !! Page 3 , here i come !! (Actually Page 3 of a local Hindi paper had my snap the next day; trophy aloft; and looking like a contradiction of cultures- Red turban & black Rockband TShirt!!Bina mooch ke sardar )
Reality struck after we were back in the Hotel- We have the bikes but can we use them???
Jinx had never graduated beyond his tricycle in his childhood and though he knows even the year in which Harley Davidson set up shop in Milwaukee; cannot for his life actually ride even a TVS moped!!
My line of thought was different. My KB 125 which often ran out of Petrol (well, a bike does not start by optimism alone) had to be pushed to the nearest Petrol pump with my own bare hands. But pushing an Enfield?? Alas, I’ll have to first spend some money on a Bull worker and the Autobiography of Arnold Schwarznegger first!
We made the decision !! We had to sell both our bikes …. The officials told us that we could not exchange it for money. Sponsors wont like it…
And thus started the Saga of the unsold Bullets - Alternatively titled Zen and the art of Motorcycle Disposal
( Did Flaash and Jinxx manage to sell off the Bullets?? Did they regret ever winning these prizes? Wot are the characters they met & negotiated with in this effort? To get answers to these please Dont Miss my next post “Motorcycle Diaries- Zen and the art of Motorcycle Disposal (Episode 2)“)
WAIT WITH BATED BREATH....
(Hope to have this episode 2 up by this weekend, all depends on BESCOM)
.........btw my replies to all ur comments on B'lore roads blog is put up in the comments section..Plz check it out
Cheers
One for the Road - Driving and Surviving in Bangalore
Driving in Bangalore is like working on a Six Sigma process. There are a million opportunities for a defect; in this case a process defect being defined as “getting a dent in your car”. A day with less than 3.4 scratches, dents or bent bumpers means that your driving for the day is Six Sigma qualified.
Every time you brake; you brace for impact from behind, invariably there is a car, auto or a bike just a few millimeters behind the rear bumper ready to crash into you. I pity those cars with “body color bumpers” ; they will have to be repainted after every hit. Mine has a “Scratch” color bumper so that it absorbs as many scratches as it likes. I tried to get a Scratch Color car but they don’t sell them here. So I had to do with a scratch color bumper
Every car owner blames any dent on the ubiquitious “Other Driver”. The “Other driver” is one who brakes too early or never brake on time. He either makes a turn without an indicator or tries zipping past cheekily on a bike through your left when you have your left indicator on and slowly turning left- just begging to be knocked down.
According to “been-here-for-a-long-time” Bangaloreans everything can be blamed on the Software engineers. Nothing was the same again afterwards..…After the Software Revolution almost overnight the population doubled; quadrupled and had the city bursting at the seams. All Software Engineers went on onsite trips and bought cars & flats with the money they saved. They had survived on just Puliyogre rice in US/UK/Canada for an year to save money for the entire duration of their onsite trip.
However the government was not in a mood to let them drive happily ever after in their new flashy cars. They called emergency meetings and made the decision to dig up all the roads…Also they decided to build “Semi-fly-overs” thru out the city. These were specially designed to narrow down the existing roads and make them so congested that not even a “fly can go over” to the other side. People initially thought these are like fly-overs in other cities ;but later on came to know these are meant to be “Semi-fly-overs” which is supposed to be like a speed breaker (speeding is if you go above 20 kmph) and never will be like those on which vehicles actually ply on..
Talking about flies; how can you forget mosquitoes; another remarkable phenomenon hereabouts…. Around the time Infosys was thinking of ESOPs; Mosquitoes learned that Bangalore was a good place for a “byte”. And the rest is history. According to stats, currently there are around 2767 mosquitoes per software engineer in Bangalore. Mosquitoes have a gala time with these “soft” targets
Meanwhile holes in ozone layer induced global warming and the air conditioned city now had air conditioning only in the offices of software co: s. The honchos of the software companies had met and hatched a conspiracy. They wrote a program to increase the atmospheric temperatures in the city so that the offices became pleasant havens for software engineers who now preferred working 15 hrs instead of 9. And dreading their hot n sweaty mosquito infested homes and the rush hours to get there….
Btw let me tell you; as such we Bangaloreans are not different species from anyone else. But well there is one distinguishing factor.
For eg: Mumbaiites work hard during the week; and in the weekend; go around town sporting T-shirts of brands such as Adidas, Nike, Reebok etc. ….
Bangaloreans too work hard during the week, but go out on weekends sporting t-shirts, jackets, caps, socks, bags & underwear (mebbe) of brands such as Infosys, Wipro or whichever software company we work for................
Back to the topic of driving… Well not so long ago I was one of the “overtake-only-thru-the left” bikers I mentioned earlier but then I managed to become a car owner. In my own foreign trips, though I did not survive on Puliyodiri rice I saved a lot of money by having just one Beer a day and in the end of my sojourn I had saved enough to own just one li’l not-so-new Santro. Still I look at my car and I wistfully remember all those drinks I did not have.
Back in Bangalore I did a Cost-Benefit analysis of using the car vis-à-vis the bike. Well btw my KB 125 bike is unique. Unlike other bikes where the mileage is calculated in Km per liter; this gr8 breakthrough’ of motorcycling; the mileage is calculated in liters to go one Km!!! This can probably be attributed to the fact that my knowledge of Zen and that of Motorcycle Maintenance are quite comparable. Anyway in the final tally, mileage-wise the car won hands-down. So due to economical reasons I chose the car
Another important reason I choose the car for my daily commute is the Bangalore Bus Drivers..
Well, their mundane existence of just driving passengers back n forth bored these guys to no extent. Then one of them saw Tiger Woods on TV and devised a game called BMTC-Golf . The rules are similar to ordinary Golf . However in this case each Bus Driver uses his bus instead of a Golf Club. All he has to do is to aim right, swing (the steering) and whack !!Knock a two-wheeler driver to a convenient pot-hole of a suitable size. Jumping a red light and knocking down a 2 wheeler carries extra points and brings down your handicap.As playing BMTC-Golf with a car is as difficult as a “hole in one” i feel a wee bit more comfortable in a car.
Btw the golf courses for this extremely popular sport are designated by the very creative names they have been given. For eg: There’s an 80-feet road; where 80 feet is the average radius of a pothole & similarly there are some 100 feet roads. Each driver compares his tally for the day with the others and the winner buys booze for everyone before everyone starts work the next day...
BPO Qualis drivers have seen the immense entertainment potential for this sport and are fast catching up. They have their own mini versions of the same game which they’re perfecting. They even flaunt their talent on the back of their vehicles like Golf players “How is my driving, call 988XXXXX”. I reckon not too many are talented in other Golf shots like “Putting”, “Teeing” or “Chipping” because I’ve never seen any BPO Qualis driver ask “How is my Putting?” on their back windows
With such varied species around; Bangalore roads are a reflection of life itself. Like in life there are no road signs when u require it and you have to guess by the number of vehicles going into a particular road or open your inner eye and see whether it will lead you to MG road. And in this One-way city if miss a turn, you have to orbit the city like a dogged satellite to get near the same point.
None has to keep reminding you “ There are no Second Chances in Life”
(Mail me at flaashgordon@indiatimes.com)
Every time you brake; you brace for impact from behind, invariably there is a car, auto or a bike just a few millimeters behind the rear bumper ready to crash into you. I pity those cars with “body color bumpers” ; they will have to be repainted after every hit. Mine has a “Scratch” color bumper so that it absorbs as many scratches as it likes. I tried to get a Scratch Color car but they don’t sell them here. So I had to do with a scratch color bumper
Every car owner blames any dent on the ubiquitious “Other Driver”. The “Other driver” is one who brakes too early or never brake on time. He either makes a turn without an indicator or tries zipping past cheekily on a bike through your left when you have your left indicator on and slowly turning left- just begging to be knocked down.
According to “been-here-for-a-long-time” Bangaloreans everything can be blamed on the Software engineers. Nothing was the same again afterwards..…After the Software Revolution almost overnight the population doubled; quadrupled and had the city bursting at the seams. All Software Engineers went on onsite trips and bought cars & flats with the money they saved. They had survived on just Puliyogre rice in US/UK/Canada for an year to save money for the entire duration of their onsite trip.
However the government was not in a mood to let them drive happily ever after in their new flashy cars. They called emergency meetings and made the decision to dig up all the roads…Also they decided to build “Semi-fly-overs” thru out the city. These were specially designed to narrow down the existing roads and make them so congested that not even a “fly can go over” to the other side. People initially thought these are like fly-overs in other cities ;but later on came to know these are meant to be “Semi-fly-overs” which is supposed to be like a speed breaker (speeding is if you go above 20 kmph) and never will be like those on which vehicles actually ply on..
Talking about flies; how can you forget mosquitoes; another remarkable phenomenon hereabouts…. Around the time Infosys was thinking of ESOPs; Mosquitoes learned that Bangalore was a good place for a “byte”. And the rest is history. According to stats, currently there are around 2767 mosquitoes per software engineer in Bangalore. Mosquitoes have a gala time with these “soft” targets
Meanwhile holes in ozone layer induced global warming and the air conditioned city now had air conditioning only in the offices of software co: s. The honchos of the software companies had met and hatched a conspiracy. They wrote a program to increase the atmospheric temperatures in the city so that the offices became pleasant havens for software engineers who now preferred working 15 hrs instead of 9. And dreading their hot n sweaty mosquito infested homes and the rush hours to get there….
Btw let me tell you; as such we Bangaloreans are not different species from anyone else. But well there is one distinguishing factor.
For eg: Mumbaiites work hard during the week; and in the weekend; go around town sporting T-shirts of brands such as Adidas, Nike, Reebok etc. ….
Bangaloreans too work hard during the week, but go out on weekends sporting t-shirts, jackets, caps, socks, bags & underwear (mebbe) of brands such as Infosys, Wipro or whichever software company we work for................
Back to the topic of driving… Well not so long ago I was one of the “overtake-only-thru-the left” bikers I mentioned earlier but then I managed to become a car owner. In my own foreign trips, though I did not survive on Puliyodiri rice I saved a lot of money by having just one Beer a day and in the end of my sojourn I had saved enough to own just one li’l not-so-new Santro. Still I look at my car and I wistfully remember all those drinks I did not have.
Back in Bangalore I did a Cost-Benefit analysis of using the car vis-à-vis the bike. Well btw my KB 125 bike is unique. Unlike other bikes where the mileage is calculated in Km per liter; this gr8 breakthrough’ of motorcycling; the mileage is calculated in liters to go one Km!!! This can probably be attributed to the fact that my knowledge of Zen and that of Motorcycle Maintenance are quite comparable. Anyway in the final tally, mileage-wise the car won hands-down. So due to economical reasons I chose the car
Another important reason I choose the car for my daily commute is the Bangalore Bus Drivers..
Well, their mundane existence of just driving passengers back n forth bored these guys to no extent. Then one of them saw Tiger Woods on TV and devised a game called BMTC-Golf . The rules are similar to ordinary Golf . However in this case each Bus Driver uses his bus instead of a Golf Club. All he has to do is to aim right, swing (the steering) and whack !!Knock a two-wheeler driver to a convenient pot-hole of a suitable size. Jumping a red light and knocking down a 2 wheeler carries extra points and brings down your handicap.As playing BMTC-Golf with a car is as difficult as a “hole in one” i feel a wee bit more comfortable in a car.
Btw the golf courses for this extremely popular sport are designated by the very creative names they have been given. For eg: There’s an 80-feet road; where 80 feet is the average radius of a pothole & similarly there are some 100 feet roads. Each driver compares his tally for the day with the others and the winner buys booze for everyone before everyone starts work the next day...
BPO Qualis drivers have seen the immense entertainment potential for this sport and are fast catching up. They have their own mini versions of the same game which they’re perfecting. They even flaunt their talent on the back of their vehicles like Golf players “How is my driving, call 988XXXXX”. I reckon not too many are talented in other Golf shots like “Putting”, “Teeing” or “Chipping” because I’ve never seen any BPO Qualis driver ask “How is my Putting?” on their back windows
With such varied species around; Bangalore roads are a reflection of life itself. Like in life there are no road signs when u require it and you have to guess by the number of vehicles going into a particular road or open your inner eye and see whether it will lead you to MG road. And in this One-way city if miss a turn, you have to orbit the city like a dogged satellite to get near the same point.
None has to keep reminding you “ There are no Second Chances in Life”
(Mail me at flaashgordon@indiatimes.com)
Monday, January 24, 2005
You want your Backside- Square or Graduation ???
Having stayed in 5 cities, 3 in Swades & 2 in England & travelled around quite a bit, i've heard versions of Queen's English as different as Masaladosas r from Fish n Chips
In the God's own Country where i hail from ; the way we say "Pop Music" would remind u more of Vatican rather than Micheal Jackson & "Coke" would remind you of a male Chicken (among other things ;-))) than Aamir Khan's Thanda Matlab........".
Ingleesh becomes the official language after the "occasional" drink ( quite so many of them) with friends & relatives. The subsequent ground shaking discussions on the political, socio-religious & economic equations of Kerala, India, Gelf & Amerikka which needs to be altered, redrawn & utopianized (new word for English??) are conducted essentially in a version of the Queen's language which might first induce her to go to her grave & then turn in it !!!Also when my friend said about a new movie "Yellow Sea" which is playing in Cochin i had in mind mebbe an Akira Kurasowa sort of art movie, till i realized he was talking about LOC with half of Bollywood in it.
Life took me to Mumbai for my MBA & from the first day i was so conscious of my so-called mallu accent. Years of methodically & deliberately stifling & mutilating this accent has worked to some extent. At least in short doses it is rather neutral but have a longer conversation & it pops out (damn..lola kutty). Another pbm was that I was at the same time learning to speak casually in Hindi at the same time. In Mumbai, Hindi n English (Actually Mumbaiyaa versions of both) are as unseparable as Siamese twins. So u've to go like this " Bai aayaa thaa, & and i told her u have to be more regular, aur woh b&#^%$ bol rahaa hai ki I've to pay 200 more, what the f... !!" .. (Well i did spent some time in my std 5 learning the difference betwn "aa rahaa; aa rahi; jaa rahaa; jaa rahi " But Mumbai taught me dont bother , be bindaas , Hindi can be gender blind too!!..hence bai aayaa thaa, gaadi aayaa thaa, train aaya that, ladki aaya thaa ) Moreover, hindi expletives at regular intervals not only makes you so sound more macho but also that u r really comfy wth the language .I noticed that second word of any Punjab-daa-puttar's casual conversation sentence is either of the two fave twin Hindi gaalis (yeah next time listen...)
Work took me abroad to the home of English & I realized that much of what i thought was good English; the Englishmen themselves havent heard of it !!! For eg: One of my friends asked our trainer "May i know your good name plz??" He responded "Well, its Pete, ..uh; dont know if its good or bad"..Later i figured that probably it was a very Indian Shubh naam which became Good name quite innovatively so. And when another of our group mentioned someone's dad expired, quite unexpected this guy burst out laughing; while I was contemplating whether this guy was a remnant of British raaj; (laughing like Bob Cristo over the death of a native in aBollywood movie) he told us that for them it is usually loans n mortgages that expires which is a rather happy occasion !!!
And in the same UK trip once there was this friend of mine who suddenly screamed "Right Here" to the London cabbie and Screeeechhh....... he slammed the brakes right there. She said "no ,not here" and the cab started again & once again she screams "Right here" ...So he braked right there ..Both were confused & this "Right here" & "Screeecchh" went on a couple of times till someone else sort of explained that "Please take a right turn" is what she had in mind !!!
Back in India after Bangaloring a few jobs from the UK ; i heard a totally different tongue; a very Bangalorean English; which went like "Dont put-tu your slipper-u in the mud-du"or an exasperated" What-and-all do i have to do, aayo amma" ; a very curious" What it seems, what it seems???" ; or a questioning "I've to do it-aaa or u'will do it aaaa???"
But nothing could beat the barber who was giving me a haircut & asked me how the hair should be cut..(A round cut or a sloping cut ) "Sir, you want your backside square or graduation " ???!!!!
God save the queen !!Serves her right for spreading the language so indiscriminately
In the God's own Country where i hail from ; the way we say "Pop Music" would remind u more of Vatican rather than Micheal Jackson & "Coke" would remind you of a male Chicken (among other things ;-))) than Aamir Khan's Thanda Matlab........".
Ingleesh becomes the official language after the "occasional" drink ( quite so many of them) with friends & relatives. The subsequent ground shaking discussions on the political, socio-religious & economic equations of Kerala, India, Gelf & Amerikka which needs to be altered, redrawn & utopianized (new word for English??) are conducted essentially in a version of the Queen's language which might first induce her to go to her grave & then turn in it !!!Also when my friend said about a new movie "Yellow Sea" which is playing in Cochin i had in mind mebbe an Akira Kurasowa sort of art movie, till i realized he was talking about LOC with half of Bollywood in it.
Life took me to Mumbai for my MBA & from the first day i was so conscious of my so-called mallu accent. Years of methodically & deliberately stifling & mutilating this accent has worked to some extent. At least in short doses it is rather neutral but have a longer conversation & it pops out (damn..lola kutty). Another pbm was that I was at the same time learning to speak casually in Hindi at the same time. In Mumbai, Hindi n English (Actually Mumbaiyaa versions of both) are as unseparable as Siamese twins. So u've to go like this " Bai aayaa thaa, & and i told her u have to be more regular, aur woh b&#^%$ bol rahaa hai ki I've to pay 200 more, what the f... !!" .. (Well i did spent some time in my std 5 learning the difference betwn "aa rahaa; aa rahi; jaa rahaa; jaa rahi " But Mumbai taught me dont bother , be bindaas , Hindi can be gender blind too!!..hence bai aayaa thaa, gaadi aayaa thaa, train aaya that, ladki aaya thaa ) Moreover, hindi expletives at regular intervals not only makes you so sound more macho but also that u r really comfy wth the language .I noticed that second word of any Punjab-daa-puttar's casual conversation sentence is either of the two fave twin Hindi gaalis (yeah next time listen...)
Work took me abroad to the home of English & I realized that much of what i thought was good English; the Englishmen themselves havent heard of it !!! For eg: One of my friends asked our trainer "May i know your good name plz??" He responded "Well, its Pete, ..uh; dont know if its good or bad"..Later i figured that probably it was a very Indian Shubh naam which became Good name quite innovatively so. And when another of our group mentioned someone's dad expired, quite unexpected this guy burst out laughing; while I was contemplating whether this guy was a remnant of British raaj; (laughing like Bob Cristo over the death of a native in aBollywood movie) he told us that for them it is usually loans n mortgages that expires which is a rather happy occasion !!!
And in the same UK trip once there was this friend of mine who suddenly screamed "Right Here" to the London cabbie and Screeeechhh....... he slammed the brakes right there. She said "no ,not here" and the cab started again & once again she screams "Right here" ...So he braked right there ..Both were confused & this "Right here" & "Screeecchh" went on a couple of times till someone else sort of explained that "Please take a right turn" is what she had in mind !!!
Back in India after Bangaloring a few jobs from the UK ; i heard a totally different tongue; a very Bangalorean English; which went like "Dont put-tu your slipper-u in the mud-du"or an exasperated" What-and-all do i have to do, aayo amma" ; a very curious" What it seems, what it seems???" ; or a questioning "I've to do it-aaa or u'will do it aaaa???"
But nothing could beat the barber who was giving me a haircut & asked me how the hair should be cut..(A round cut or a sloping cut ) "Sir, you want your backside square or graduation " ???!!!!
God save the queen !!Serves her right for spreading the language so indiscriminately
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