When we were in pre-school, we
would start our essays with ‘I have many friends, but Ramu is my best
friend.......' Thus, allow me to start this piece with, I have many friends.
Most of them are on the internet and I have never met them per se. Others whom
I have met, are graded as no better than acquaintances, friends and ta..da....
Best friends! This piece of literature is dedicated to one of my better
friends. Let us call him Ramu for ease of communication.
So,
about a couple of years ago Ramu fell victim to Cupid. The girl was a very nice girl.
Well behaved and polite. I was very fond of her only till so long as I had
nothing to do with her or as the saying goes around, ‘Dur se hi Ram-Ram’.
Usually I do not bother who my friends hang out with, but come on; we are
talking about Ramu here. And, it nothing less than pained me to see my
simpleton friend being dominated by that pathetic excuse for a human being. In
a typical bollywood movie plot, I would go and tell my friend about my
evaluation of his bride-to-be (I know this fellow and his day dreaming
habits!). Then we would disagree, have a fight, he would perhaps hit me, and
that would end our friendship. Then after the chewing gum had been extracted
off its last bit of flavour and no longer good enough to be blown into even a
bubble, the lady would spit him into a gutter. Then there would be an interval
and after that we would meet in a disco, he would apologise and we would sing a
hit musical number. Friendship rekindled.
Now talking about real life!
There is no background score, no make-up artist or no body double to take a
pasting on my behalf. On top of it, I am not particularly “Hippy” to sing and
dance, let alone visit a disco. So, when he introduced me to her, I did what I do
the best, lie through my teeth. With a smile that I sport so well for all my
emotions, I said, “I am very happy for you!” While at the same time I prayed
that the forces of the universe come to his rescue. Whether it was the mutual
dislike I shared with the Madame, or she was as sly as a fox or just basic
primate instincts on the part of Ramu, I observed that he had become aloof of
all of humankind in general. He started writing poetry, surprising, because in
school poetry recital was in his words,”Yuck!” And now he was doing the yuck,
even more yuckily. Even his actions had become so yucky- he started taking a
bath on a daily basis, his monthly expenses shifted from deodorants to fairness
soaps for men, he became punctual, dressed like an uncle and had a moronishly
happy look on his face all the time. All this pain I suffered, with a smile on
a face. What fate had come upon a high IQed beautiful mind? What had that witch
(you can use b as well) turned him into? Ramu, as we had known for 20 years,
was no more. But, like the old mother in old Hindi movies who would wear black
clothes and utter “Mere Karan-Arjun aayenge”, I kept consoling myself.
Then one day, Boom-Boom-Boomer
was launched in India. It was juicier and had a new flavour. And Big-Bubblehead
soon fell to disrepute, lost his favour with Cruella (actually she lost
interest) and into the drains he was cast even before he could realise what had
struck him. I knew this day was to come. I knew it because I am a very innocent
little boy and God always answers well behaved children’s prayers. “Duaa ki
shakti”. I did what any good friend would do in this situation; enjoy the sight
of cockroaches crawl all over him. 
But
poor Ramu was still love struck. I saw the Hindi version of Makkhi. Innovative
and all that, but what I realised at the end of it was that the poor love
smitten sole of the protagonist has been doomed for all eternity. He dies only
to be reborn as a Maakhi. Neither will he ever let the girl settle in life nor
will he get any action himself! He is a drone bee if you realised!
I
took him in my fold on his path to rehabilitation. One day he stopped playing
the guitar, no more poetry. Such a relief! One could look at his face and tell
what all stuff he had eaten over the past three days at least. Karan-Arjun had
reincarnated! Ramu was back.
The
reason I write this piece is that very recently I saw Madam Maya with my
friend. Yes it was raining and the bus stop was all crowded, so I pray that it
be nothing more than an awkward encounter. But the buzz also doing the rounds
is that there may have been some sparks flying and the irrational romantics are
happy. I am afraid that my greatest nightmare is coming true. The dung cake is
attracting the flies! Poor Ramu does not realise however that, he isn’t the
only fly hovering around this piece of manure. But maakhis do not have such
IQs, definitely not drones! They just live to serve the queen, do all the
donkey work and die without even expecting any reward.
Once bitten twice shy is an age
old idiom, perhaps I can add a few more
Once smitten, always ‘bee’ten!
Once vroomed, forever doomed!
