Category: In Lighter Vein

The first blog post of the year 2012 for me should be making me look ahead. However, in this post, I am looking behind or rather looking at behinds; or, as the Indians call it – at the back sides.

And all this is because of an end-of-the-year snippet in the newspaper that a certain Natalie Thomas has insured her bottom for a huge amount. The reason? She is paid for checking the softness of beds in hotels in London; and like Lata Mangeshkar insuring her throat, Natalie too has insured that part of her body that makes her do what she is good at. She said she enjoys doing what she is doing and we shouldn’t be surprised.

It is an asset to have a sensitive behind. One of the definitions of a smart-ass is: a person who can sit on a cone of ice-cream and tell you what flavour it is.

Kissing or paying lip-service to another person’s behind, rear, bottom or back side is the highest form of devotion, flattery or subservience. I am reminded of an instructor tutoring the boy-scouts about survival techniques in the jungles. Inevitably, the subject veered around to snakes and more particularly snake-bites. The instructor told the boy-scouts that in case of snake-bite they should immediately put their mouth to the position of the bite and suck out all the venom and spit it out. The scouts wanted to know what if the snake bites in a place that cannot be reached by their mouths. “That’s simple” said the instructor, “You should ask a friend to suck out.” There was a last persistent doubt by one of the scouts, “What happens if a snake bites at the bottom.” And the instructor replied, “That’s when you come to know who your friends are.”

Then there is the story of a woman having met with an accident. A part of her cheek got mutilated and after the wound got healed she required skin transplant to make it look alright. Her husband offered to donate his skin and the doctor, in order that the husband shouldn’t sacrifice his own looks for that of his wife’s, took the skin from his bottom to be transplanted on his wife’s face. Later, the office mates asked him if it was painful for him to donate his skin. “Yes” confirmed the man, “But, I do get my kicks every time my mother-in-law kisses my wife on the cheek”.

Women, always have had this curious advantage in having a shapely butt. An actress of yore, Ava Gardner, was arguing with the cameraman that he never showed her best side. “How can I” retorted the cameraman, “You are always sitting on it?”

A few years back  JeLo or Jennifer Lopez had taken cognisance of having been voted the most shapely butt. She, from all counts, appears to be proud of the title she had won. She was such a successful star that employing her butt for testing the softness of beds won’t have occured to her.

At one time a woman would have been the butt of jokes to be praised for her bottom. However, nowadays, it is seen as a great compliment. Gone are the days when such limericks as following were prevalent:

A girl from Madras,
Had a beautiful ass;
Not rounded and pink,
As you probably think
It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass.

Nowadays, an ass means an ass of the rounded and pink variety.

Many actresses have got their butts insured exactly like the soft-bed-tester Natalie Thomas. Many actresses privately feel that if it hadn’t been for their behinds, they wouldn’t have been where they are: at the top of popularity charts. Men have a fascination for the women’s butts. That’s the bottom-line. Most men agree that a rear view is not so rare these days and keeps them raring to go.

By the same reasoning, hundred percent of Indian politicians should also get their bottoms insured since being a certain kind of holes is their calling. Indeed, they should do it at the time of campaigning for elections since, the statistics of Indian democracy bring out that if you lack in your ability of being this certain kind of hole, the chances of your getting elected are next to nil.

Babus in government offices also make use of those parts of the body for which Natalie Thomas gets paid so heavily. As they sit on their bottoms, the files on their desks and cupboards become bigger and bigger stacks; and, it often appears that the only reason they sought the job was to have a piece of government furniture support the most precious part of their bodies.

Chair or gaddi is important in Indian politics and babudom. Its occupant gets enormous powers. Many of the occupants when asked to get their bottom out of the gaddi would do anything to keep it there as long as they can. For this if they have to kiss the bottoms of the voters in their constituency, it is all for good cause.

To end a long story short, the motto ‘be kind to your behind’ has now been modified to: ‘be kind to all behinds’ because a hindsight is always better than foresight.

What is a skid-talk? It is similar to crazy-talk except that probably you don’t mean it to come out the way it does. It inadvertently comes out that way. However, after you’ve said it, either you or others around you realise how crazy or obvious or inane it sounds. Sample this: “They live at the beach; the water comes right up to the shore.” Also, “Two can live as cheaply as one except they have to pay twice as much.”Most of us have come across, in our childhood, our moms telling us not to climb trees. The conversation goes something like this:

Mom: You ain’t going to climb that tree. I forbid you to do so.
Child: Come on  mom; everyone else is climbing.
Mom (shouting now): No; you are not climbing.
Child: Mom, please….(and he starts climbing)
Mom (Resignedly): Alright you do that. But when you break your legs don’t come running to me.

The other day I read this in Mumbai Mirror: Police discovered a body hacked in twenty pieces. They are investigating if this is a case of suicide.

Here is something that I heard, “My uncle had a fatal accident. He was in a bad shape when we visited him in the hospital.”

Then there was this Subedar Major who addressed his men, “Now I require some of you guys to volunteer for the task. Both of you three follow me up to CO’s office.”

What about this PR man telling us, “Tickets are available for everyone on first cum first served basis”?

In skid-talk, I think, the best that I have heard is: “All generalisations are always incorrect.”

Don’t see anything wrong in that? Well, I leave it to you to figure out.

Here is one that I heard, “As he got out of the house, he locked the door from inside and outside. You have to be careful these days.”

Here is another one that I heard, “Those of you who are still here after I am gone can hear me sing and I promise you a great song.”

I was really floored by this, “Because of the clouds the sun has been coming out at odd hours these last few days. However, rarely one can see it coming out at night.”

Alright, what about this one, “I couldn’t imagine him stooping so low as to take out money from my top most drawer above the dressing table.”

Or, “It is incredible that you can’t believe this incident happened with me when I was walking alone with two of my friends.”

Here is another one, “The three of them were waylaid by the dacoits. One died on the spot; the other two ran to the hell out of the forest.”

If you know any skid talk that you have heard why don’t you share it in the comments below?

If friends try to detect just a wee bit of the ‘J’ word in this article, let me tell you I won’t be writing this if I was jealous. I have spent the best years of my life in the company of my own mother, and how can I be jealous of my own kids thinking no end of their mom?Talking about best years of one’s life, I am reminded of this anecdote, I am sure apocryphal, that I heard when I was in school. India’s Prime Minister Nehru was giving an after dinner speech in London. He started off by saying, “The most memorable years of my life are spent in the arms of another man’s wife”. There was, naturally, disbelief and shock at this sudden explosive confession. Enjoying their discomfiture, Nehru took another fifteen seconds or so before he concluded, “My mother, that is.” There was, as was to be expected, resounding applause. The External Affairs Minister Swaran Singh noted this for its sheer audacity and ultimate punch-line. Hence, on arrival in India he insisted on an after-dinner speech. He started, “I have a confession to make: the best years of my life are spent in the arms of another man’s wife”. He enjoyed the hushed silence, the shock and incredulity and concluded, “Nehru’s mother, that is.”

Jokes apart, there is much to be said about the security of being in one’s mother’s arms. I remember the time when we were in Wellington in Ooty Hills and Lyn, my wife, had to leave us for three days to meet her relatives in Chennai. As the train departed with her at Coonoor, Arun, our younger son, stuck close to me and was almost at the verge of tears. When I asked him what happened, he responded tearfully, “Mama is leaving and three of us are going to be alone.” I reminded him that it was she who was going alone and we three were together. However, his reasoning was unshakeable.

The ‘tallest’ amongst us all.

Here is an excerpt from a Catholic prayer. Catholics think of God as a Father and Jesus is seated on the right side of the Father. The prayer starts with extolling the various qualities of the Father. However, half way through it says, “Father, I feel safe with you like a baby in its mother’s arms”.

If any proof is required in our house about the virtues of the parents, and not that anyone has any doubts, our dog Roger too felt securer with mama. During the festival season, with the noise of loud-speakers, conches, singing, and crackers, he was to be found under my wife’s bed, the safest place for him in the world.

As I said, fathers will never be jealous, because they too have happy nostalgia of their own moms. One of them, when he was making a fuss about eating his mother’s cooked food, was gently told by her, “Eat it, son; many years later you will be telling your wife that she can’t ever cook how your mother did.”

Where would we be without our moms?

Tomorrow would have been our Roger’s twelfth birthday; and this one is just appropriate:A man invites a friend for lunch. For the sake of clarity lets call them Rahul, the one who invites; and Suraj, the one who is invited. Rahul receives Suraj at the door and notices that Suraj has arrived with his dog. The dog looks a little slovenly to Rahul but as Suraj and his dog enter, Rahul reckons he has no choice but to entertain them both.

Rahul notices that initially the dog just sits at Suraj’s feet. But, soon the dog becomes active and starts going through Rahul’s house, along the way dropping many a thing and upsetting the whole house in general. Rahul finds it rather strange that the dog makes his way to the kitchen and finds food for himself and is merrily carrying such food all over the house. He even jumps on the sofa and makes himself totally at home.

Later, when they are having lunch, the dog jumps on one of the chairs and helps himself to some of the food on the table.

Rahul takes all this in his stride because he doesn’t want to offend Suraj. However, he is really agitated when the dog upsets a side table and Rahul’s precious parcelain vase is shattered to pieces. He also does his pooh over Rahul’s carpet.

So, as he sees off Suraj and the dog after the lunch, Rahul finds it difficult to hide his anger at the dog misbehaving in his house and Suraj doing nothing to discipline or control him. At the door he tells Suraj rather acidly, “Bye, Suraj, it was nice having you over. But, perhaps next time you may consider visiting me without your dog.”

Suraj responds, “My dog? My dog? And all this while I thought this was your dog.”

In the Navy, for the sailors, we have a Divisional system. That is, the ship’s company (crew) is divided into small manageable Divisions that are generally named after parts of ship, for example, Foxle (this is how forecastle is pronounced) Division, Quarterdeck Division, Engine Room Division and so on. Each division is under a young Lieutenant called the Divisional Officer. The healthy Divisional system is the backbone of the Navy. Hence, tact, empathy, and other skills of the Divisional Officer are often what makes the difference between a spirited ship and the one that isn’t.

One young Divisional Officer was proud of being blessed with such attributes as would keep his division happy as well as performing its task ably. Following conversation took place between him and a sailor who approached him for leave:

DO: You have asked for ten days leave again. Why do you go on leave so often?

Sailor: Sir, my wife is pregnant and there is no one to look after her.

DO: (Taking out from the table drawer an open  letter envelope) Ah, here I caught you A Singh; I received this letter from your wife only yesterday. She has complained about your going home, getting drunk, and not being of any assistance to her. Indeed, she says she is with her parents and can go through the total pregnancy with their help and has requested that you shouldn’t be sent on leave. What do you have to say to this, A Singh?

Pic Courtesy: Popeye The Sailor: Volume Three

A Singh, all this while is crestfallen and does not know what to say. Finally, he says, “Thank you, Sir” and starts retreating. However, from the door he turns back and approaches the DO.

A Singh: Sir, before I go can I tell you something heart to heart?

DO (Savouring his not-so-small victory over A Singh): Go ahead, A Singh, and ask for any assistance you may require.

A Singh: No Sir, I don’t require any assistance. I just wanted to tell you that all this while I thought of myself as an accomplished liar; but, you have beaten me hollow…you see, Sir…the truth is that I am not married.