Ch 3 The name is Venkat, Mr.Venkat
It was during one of my trips to visit my grandma in Madurai, that an incident happened which provides startling insight into the kind of character that I would become later.
Madurai, as most of you would be knowing, is a city of temples, of centuries of tradition... and into this city, I entered, a product of the metropolis, and I guess, carrying some of the pretentious baggage of the Big City.
Opposite my grandma's place, was a small colony of huts- I recall a typical scene from a National Geographic documentary -walls smeared with cowdung (to ward off the innumerable flies that are part and parcel of any small city), thatched roofs, and inhabited by carefree, simple youth, uninhibited by notions of appearing bigger than what they really are.
The day I arrived there, I noticed that there were a few of them, all engrossed in a game of lagori (7-stones), and I desperately wanted to join in the fun, with a notion of "teaching the country bumpkins of how the game is played in the big city".
There were quite a few of them, so we started off with the introductions.....They started the ball rolling.
"En paer Muniyandi" , "I is MuthuKaruppan", and such... Finally, it was my turn...
I dont know what provoked me to say it, possibly a hangover of a James Bond movie that I had seen lately, but I said the following in, what I assumed, was a Sean Conner-ian drawl:
"My name is Mr.Venkat".
The spontaneous reaction to this statement was unilateral and unequivocal... and shamefully embarassing. Howls of derisive laughter would be an understatement. To say that I had made their day, and provided them with humorous fodder for a long long time, would probably be nearer to the mark.
They were rolling on the roads with laughter, and to state the painfully obvious, that was all for the game that day, ... and introductions was as far as I got with that gang.
I still have memories of them gathering outside our home every morning, to greet me with howls of "Mr Venkat! Mr Venkat!, teach us englees" or "foreign mappilai veliya vaa" (hey foreigner dude, come outside)...I would have to sneak through the back door if I ever had to go out. It was via one of these backdoor escapades, that I made a relatively safe trip to the railway station and back to Udaipur...
A few days later, I got a letter from my grandma telling my mom, that some of the neighborhood youth were disturbing her with "cries of Mr Venkat! in all odd hours of the day".
I dint care to explain why, of course.
Madurai, as most of you would be knowing, is a city of temples, of centuries of tradition... and into this city, I entered, a product of the metropolis, and I guess, carrying some of the pretentious baggage of the Big City.
Opposite my grandma's place, was a small colony of huts- I recall a typical scene from a National Geographic documentary -walls smeared with cowdung (to ward off the innumerable flies that are part and parcel of any small city), thatched roofs, and inhabited by carefree, simple youth, uninhibited by notions of appearing bigger than what they really are.
The day I arrived there, I noticed that there were a few of them, all engrossed in a game of lagori (7-stones), and I desperately wanted to join in the fun, with a notion of "teaching the country bumpkins of how the game is played in the big city".
There were quite a few of them, so we started off with the introductions.....They started the ball rolling.
"En paer Muniyandi" , "I is MuthuKaruppan", and such... Finally, it was my turn...
I dont know what provoked me to say it, possibly a hangover of a James Bond movie that I had seen lately, but I said the following in, what I assumed, was a Sean Conner-ian drawl:
"My name is Mr.Venkat".
The spontaneous reaction to this statement was unilateral and unequivocal... and shamefully embarassing. Howls of derisive laughter would be an understatement. To say that I had made their day, and provided them with humorous fodder for a long long time, would probably be nearer to the mark.
They were rolling on the roads with laughter, and to state the painfully obvious, that was all for the game that day, ... and introductions was as far as I got with that gang.
I still have memories of them gathering outside our home every morning, to greet me with howls of "Mr Venkat! Mr Venkat!, teach us englees" or "foreign mappilai veliya vaa" (hey foreigner dude, come outside)...I would have to sneak through the back door if I ever had to go out. It was via one of these backdoor escapades, that I made a relatively safe trip to the railway station and back to Udaipur...
A few days later, I got a letter from my grandma telling my mom, that some of the neighborhood youth were disturbing her with "cries of Mr Venkat! in all odd hours of the day".
I dint care to explain why, of course.
posted by Venkat at 9:15 PM
3 Comments:
Venkat, this is incredibly entertaining material and if there is anything that tops it, its the way you've written it. Any chance that future holds some published work, a collection of short stories probably. I'll buy, I can promise you that.
All the best with blogging and IIMB (not necessarily in that order).
Hi shash,
Thanks dude! Will have to make some time to resume blogging. The thing has been dead for a couple of weeks now.
Life's been pretty hectic since I landed here. Doing a skit for the freshers nite @ iimb. Aargh, looks like I haven't grown up at all!
cheers,
.You definitely are highly entertaining Venkat ...I came across your blog while searching for lyrics for Bharat Ek Khoj title song...song of creation....
I am planning on using the chants in a theater for children (yes, in this day and age of smart phones ) ...Thank you for all the information I gleaned from your site..
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