Digresions
DIGRESSION
There are many streets, here in Indian cities where the vehicular traffic runs both ways. If you have arrived here from a different country and you want to cross the road, you stand at the curb. First you watch the vehicles to your right, turning your neck. You wait for the traffic to slacken, searching for a gap to hop across. You spot a gap but at the same time the traffic flowing from the left, on the other half of the road has increased. Now you gotta watch your left. You turn your neck left. You discern a gap after some time. You are ready to run across but alas, there is a loud buzz and the vehicles from your right are pouring on furiously. So you turn your neck to your right again. A gap opens but then the other half is dense with crazily moving bipeds and quadrupeds (powered by diesel and petrol, of course). Now you become wise and know you hafta watch both your left and right sides if you want to reach the other side of the road in one piece. You begin turning your neck left, right and left and right. See?
This is the kind of plight I always fall into when I am in a group of friends. Like you, patiently waiting to cross the road I want to put across my story or flash of insight. But the guys – my pals actually – are so busy yakking at one another that like you I am always turning my neck left and right, never getting a chance to put in what I want to say.
Even if I manage to start one sentence it is blown away like a piece of floating paper in the traffic; I have never been able to complete what I started saying.
The other Sunday a group of us visited the city gardens here - we were on a pleasure outing. We were seated on the grassy ground in a circle. I was itching to tell a very interesting story to my friends. I started saying, " You know what happened last Sunday?"
Wayne. U (all names judiciously morphed to suit the Western tongue) immediately intervened. (Adverb follows the verb, our teacher of yore used to admonish. But that was long back. Moreover that good soul is no longer present.)
"Last Sunday I saw the film, 'Dirty Harry'. "
Telsa said, " That is an old film. Clint Eastwood is the hero. He must be more than 70 now. He has become a director now."
Darr Em Pal – "Man, I have heard of Director's Special, but I do not know who he is. Is he a special director? He must be the topmost director.'
Telsa – "Man, you are really very deep. I t needs a brave man to measure the depth of your ignorance." Titters travel around the circle. DM is unfazed. "Yes, I am a deep man.", he smirks.
Jugen Nat explains to Telsa, "He is a government employee like you but he earns a lot on the side by playing the single digit lotteries. He is very smart at that ."
Immediately Wayne Cutt shoots, "Then why is he not rich?"
Jugen Nat – "'Cos, whatever he earns at the lotteries he loses it all on the horse's tail. An explosion of laughter follows.(Horse's tail is a euphemism for racing, in the local parlance.)
DM- "Don't laugh. Wait and see. One day I am sure to hit the jackpot and I'll become rich."
Chris(to nobody in particular) – " He is already. He is stinking rich .His clothes and body are stinking."
Jug Deesh- "That reminds me. Toilets in my house are stinking. The sewage lines are choked. The municipal men are not attending to my complaint."
Prop Baker - "You have to grease their palms. Otherwise they will never come and repair the lines."
Chris Non –" Man, my palms are always sweating a lot. I tried many medicines. Nothing worked. "
Telsa –" You apply the juice of mulberry fruits. That is the proper remedy. But please don't try to shake hands with others till you are cured."
DM - " Why?"
Telsa- " Because many diseases spread through sweat. I am sure even aids can spread like that."
Everybody laughs heartily. Chris Non tries to make a joke of it, "At least it will not be foreign aid. It will be India aids we will not be importing anything."
Jugen Nat - "I can't understand why they are imposing such heavy tax on imported goods ."
Telsa – "Because they do the same when we export to their country."
It goes on and on like this for a long time. My neck is also turning left and right endlessly, like the way yours did when you tried to cross the street. You might have succeeded in crossing the street, but I never got chance to complete what I started saying.
The conversation was being kicked around like a football in the filed. I was watching it like a referee who was unable to participate. The referee may not be able to participate but at least he can stop the game. I blew the final whistle, pointing my fingers at the setting sun. It was getting dark,
We rose and wended our way back towards the city. On the way Wayne.U asked me,
"By the by you said something about last Sunday. What happened ?."
I said morosely. "I will tell you next Sunday. "
V.S.SURY
There are many streets, here in Indian cities where the vehicular traffic runs both ways. If you have arrived here from a different country and you want to cross the road, you stand at the curb. First you watch the vehicles to your right, turning your neck. You wait for the traffic to slacken, searching for a gap to hop across. You spot a gap but at the same time the traffic flowing from the left, on the other half of the road has increased. Now you gotta watch your left. You turn your neck left. You discern a gap after some time. You are ready to run across but alas, there is a loud buzz and the vehicles from your right are pouring on furiously. So you turn your neck to your right again. A gap opens but then the other half is dense with crazily moving bipeds and quadrupeds (powered by diesel and petrol, of course). Now you become wise and know you hafta watch both your left and right sides if you want to reach the other side of the road in one piece. You begin turning your neck left, right and left and right. See?
This is the kind of plight I always fall into when I am in a group of friends. Like you, patiently waiting to cross the road I want to put across my story or flash of insight. But the guys – my pals actually – are so busy yakking at one another that like you I am always turning my neck left and right, never getting a chance to put in what I want to say.
Even if I manage to start one sentence it is blown away like a piece of floating paper in the traffic; I have never been able to complete what I started saying.
The other Sunday a group of us visited the city gardens here - we were on a pleasure outing. We were seated on the grassy ground in a circle. I was itching to tell a very interesting story to my friends. I started saying, " You know what happened last Sunday?"
Wayne. U (all names judiciously morphed to suit the Western tongue) immediately intervened. (Adverb follows the verb, our teacher of yore used to admonish. But that was long back. Moreover that good soul is no longer present.)
"Last Sunday I saw the film, 'Dirty Harry'. "
Telsa said, " That is an old film. Clint Eastwood is the hero. He must be more than 70 now. He has become a director now."
Darr Em Pal – "Man, I have heard of Director's Special, but I do not know who he is. Is he a special director? He must be the topmost director.'
Telsa – "Man, you are really very deep. I t needs a brave man to measure the depth of your ignorance." Titters travel around the circle. DM is unfazed. "Yes, I am a deep man.", he smirks.
Jugen Nat explains to Telsa, "He is a government employee like you but he earns a lot on the side by playing the single digit lotteries. He is very smart at that ."
Immediately Wayne Cutt shoots, "Then why is he not rich?"
Jugen Nat – "'Cos, whatever he earns at the lotteries he loses it all on the horse's tail. An explosion of laughter follows.(Horse's tail is a euphemism for racing, in the local parlance.)
DM- "Don't laugh. Wait and see. One day I am sure to hit the jackpot and I'll become rich."
Chris(to nobody in particular) – " He is already. He is stinking rich .His clothes and body are stinking."
Jug Deesh- "That reminds me. Toilets in my house are stinking. The sewage lines are choked. The municipal men are not attending to my complaint."
Prop Baker - "You have to grease their palms. Otherwise they will never come and repair the lines."
Chris Non –" Man, my palms are always sweating a lot. I tried many medicines. Nothing worked. "
Telsa –" You apply the juice of mulberry fruits. That is the proper remedy. But please don't try to shake hands with others till you are cured."
DM - " Why?"
Telsa- " Because many diseases spread through sweat. I am sure even aids can spread like that."
Everybody laughs heartily. Chris Non tries to make a joke of it, "At least it will not be foreign aid. It will be India aids we will not be importing anything."
Jugen Nat - "I can't understand why they are imposing such heavy tax on imported goods ."
Telsa – "Because they do the same when we export to their country."
It goes on and on like this for a long time. My neck is also turning left and right endlessly, like the way yours did when you tried to cross the street. You might have succeeded in crossing the street, but I never got chance to complete what I started saying.
The conversation was being kicked around like a football in the filed. I was watching it like a referee who was unable to participate. The referee may not be able to participate but at least he can stop the game. I blew the final whistle, pointing my fingers at the setting sun. It was getting dark,
We rose and wended our way back towards the city. On the way Wayne.U asked me,
"By the by you said something about last Sunday. What happened ?."
I said morosely. "I will tell you next Sunday. "
V.S.SURY
Tags & Keywords : group, medicine, traffic, streets, roads