Prashant and the Lovebirds

One fine day in office. I heard Prashant's cell phone ring. Prashant was nowhere in sight so we ignored it. Prashant had weird ringtones. Horses neighing. Pigs grunting. Cats mewing. This time around it was birds chirping.

A few minutes later, Prashant entered the room. It was a small room which housed 5 reporters - Prashant, Sayli, Smita, Swatee and me. It was the room where great stories and articles would be written and subsequently thrashed. Anyways, I'm digressing. So Prashant entered the room.

Me: Prash, your phone was ringing
Prashant: my phone is with me
Me: arrey something was ringing on your desk. It was making some birdy sounds.
Prash: ohhh.. my darlings... my darlings...

So saying he leaped towards a brown paper packet. And sure enough the chirps seemed to emerge from that packet.

Me: What the hell is that??
Prash: (dangling the packet for everyone to see) LOVEBIRDS!!

A crowd of 3 had gathered around him now. The birds are chirping away to glory. The packet has small holes in it ideal for cross ventilation.

I propose the idea that the birds may be getting suffocated and are hence calling out for help. Prashant gasps. Immediately an empty dustbin materializes. The packet is opened and the birds are emptied into it. The dustbin is covered with my duppatta. But before we can finish patting ourselves on our backs for a job well done, we realise the magnitude of the problem has multiplied. The racket emanating from the dustbin was enough to rouse Raj Kamal Jha from the IE headquarters.

The rest of the day was spent in keeping the bosses away from our room. Evertime Raman would try entering our room, one of us would go : "Raman! I want to discuss my story with you.. Can we sit in YOUR cabin please." or something to that effect. Never before or after would Raman have seen a more dedicated bunch of reporters wanting to discuss their stories in such detail.

Prashant and Ramkali

Prashant who had just finished writing his article for the day submitted it to the desk (the people who edit the articles). The article was on Ramkali the elephant who had gotten stuck in some marshes and required two cranes to pull her out.

Around 11.30pm, Prashant was just planning to skip home, when he was summoned by Joy, the desk in charge and asked a very pertinent question. A question that would shake the very basis of Prashant's story. A question like no other.

It was: "Why is Ramkali's pet name Ramu?"

Prashant, like any ordinary person, was flabbergasted. Why indeed?! Doing some admirable quick thinking in such a time of stress, he replied:

"Because the owner must have kept it Ramu."

All of us mere mortals found the answer exemplary in its simplicity and good sense and would have awarded Prashant a standing ovation had we been there. Thankfully we were at JATC stuffing ourselves with salads.

But Joy was made of sterner stuff. He continued:

"How can a elephant with a female name (Ramkali) be given a male pet name (Ramu)?

Yes. Its the kind of question which makes you go: Whaaaaa????
Prashant reeled.

Joy continued: I want you to call her owner up right now and get the answer to this question.

Staggering back to his chair, Prashant realised it was nearing midnight. So instead of calling the owner, he called us.

And that is how I know this incident, one of the many such in the annals of courageous journalism.

Prashant does a volte face!

Prashant: 20 dogs poisoned in nerul
Me(having worked with Prashant in the same cabin for over a year typed out a sympathetic): "oh! thts bad na?"
Prashant: arrey only 20 were poisoned
me (confused now) : u wanted more to be poisoned?
Prashant: yeah some 50-60
me: lol...ok..
Prashant: yeah re...these dog lovers are bloody fools...they don't feel the pain, but I do
me: you were a dog lover once, if I'm not mistaken
Prashant: noooo, i was never except the fact that i loved my dog but she died long back. These dogs don't allow me to roam in the garden in the night. They bark at me all the time... they also chase my gaadi... And they have absolutely no sense of family planning!! Every bitch in my building has loads of puppies and I hate them. That dog, whose XXXX (this is what he typed) was diseased, I got him operated. But that fucker is now behind every bitch in my building and has no job other than fathering loads of kids.

So there.

Now why was I surprised?

Sometime around last year I was shooting a video fiction series and needed a live mouse for one of the episodes. Calling up the usual suspects did not yield results other than : "Are you ok?" to "You'll get them in any gutter in Bombay" and "go to the BMC office. There are more rats there than all over the city."

In a flash of brilliance, I remembered Prashant, my ex-Indian Express colleague, animal lover and certified mad hatter. So I called him.

Me: Prash I want a rat
Prash: ok... so get one
Me: I thought you would have them by the dozens since you go around saving them every second day.
Prash: ok...what kind of rat do you want?
Me: a small black rat
Prash: eeeeks... don't ever talk about black rats!!!
Me: what? why? what?
Prash: why don't you want a white one? White ones are better!
Me: Stop being a racist!!
Prash: Arrey I'm telling you...these black rats!! They are all namak harams!
Me: Eh??
Prash: you don't know... I had rescued that black mouse remember?? The one who was dying on the road?
Me: yes (how could I forget. He had roused an entire edit meeting seeking help for this particular mouse who was dying on the road near VT)
Prash: ya...so that fellow... i rescued him ok... i took him to the vet got him fit and fine and took him home. Imagine I took him home even though there was parental disapproval. I went against my parents for him... and put him safely in my table drawer. And guess what I see the next day!! He has eaten up all my notes!!! (Prashant was studying for his UPSC exams)Gaddar!! I saved him and he ate up my notes!!
Me: eh...ok... I think we are digressing...
Prash: no... listen... so you know what I did to him??
Me: err...no
Prash: I cleared out another drawer. I cut out pieces of cello tape and arranged them in the drawer face up. And then...I put that fellow in it!! And closed the drawer. And then when he was sufficiently entangled and all stuck up in the cello tape, I picked him up and threw him in the dustbin...

(I sincerely hope no animal activists read my blog.)

Extracts from a conversation

This post is dedicated to Robin Singhvi, my friend and laugh partner.

Robin speaks:

Ok we were at this party called POP. You know what that stands for? Pass Out Party...not that it means too much to me..but I was there.

So its about 5 am. at Madh Island. Everyone is sloshed beyond all senses. So I decide it's finally time to leave. There are a few other drunk souls with me. We're standing at a bus stop. And i yawn. And we all know how contagious that is...so everyone starts yawning. I'm standing on one end of the bus stop and this group is on the other...and suddenly I hear this commotion. I look around and everyone is surrounding this chick...

I'm already in the "ok now what? "just fuckin pass out rather than make a scene" mode...so i meander across to see what the commotion is about...and i see this chick standing in the middle of the crowd with her mouth WIDE open...and i mean WIDEEEE ok!

I'm like what kind of drunk behavior is this man? It was getting interesting now coz this was a new drunk trait i was seeing. There are various people trying to shut her mouth....n she has strange hands on, around and inside her mouth....supposedly trying to find a hinge or something I'm guessing...I finally come out of my boredom and ask..."Whats with this chick?"

And they tell me " she yawned. And now her jaw is stuck"
And the guy in front of me has spit in his face....coz i just laughed so hard!
I was like "WTF? what do u mean its stuck? is she like so drunk she can't shut her mouth?"

I'm befuddled....n fuckin happy at 5 in the morning! like this is a different drunk man! So someone tells me..."arre no...she opened her mouth too much and now its "unhinged" "....thats the word she uses haan...unhinged!

I was like "how the fuck can u open your mouth TOO MUCH??"
And now obviously people are annoyed at me....n i get "look just fuck off if u cant help" kinda looks. But thats not enough to deter me as u know...So I decide to volunteer in the 're-hinging' drama!

So I'm like..lemme help...I'm an engineer..hinges and screws are like backyard stuff for me...and everyone is so drunk they even buy my bullshit story and agree!

So i go up to her and tell her "ok now close your eyes". The chick looks alarmed...like any chick would, who's being asked by a random guy to close her eyes...when she should be trying to close her mouth!

But I'm like "trust me" with that innocent look and tone which u know I'm capable of...n she does...

So then I start massaging her eyes...then her cheeks ...and just poke around anywhere. There's utter silence around me. Everyone thinks I'm doing this scientific shit to help it close. And one chick asks me...."oh your like trying to slide it into place?"
I'm like "exactly"
And u can NOT imagine the resilience it took to not laugh at that point of time!!! I had a stomach ache trying to prevent myself from bursting out!!
so then after 5/10 minutes of this massage....I'm like...."hmmm..not helping...should we just smash it into place??"
And I draw gasps and screams from the girls around ...and terrorized 'aaaaabbbbaaaayyyyaaa" from the girl with the open mouth
so I'm like..."then nothing can happen. just take her like this to the doctor"
they agree! is this still sounding reallll???

The bus comes in right on cue. Everyone gets in. By now the girl has drool all over her dress coz her mouth's been open for 30 minutes now.

She has this friend...fuck they were telepathic i tell u. The girl goes "aaaaayyyyyaabbbbaaaa"....and I'm like what the fuck is trying to say man...and her friend is like "she says 'whatever whatever'"
I'm like "huh? how the fuck do u know?" she just shrugs me off...and i have this stoned smile on my face...I'm high on laughter by now!

Meanwhile the conductor comes....still groggy I'm guessing...and sees this chick.....with her mouth open. And fuck swati...that expression! Priceless is not the word!! It's beyond "WHAT THE FUCK?" amplified a million times! He's like "FUCK ME SIDEWAYS! 20 years of service and this has to be a first"

The open mouth girl goes "aaaayyyaaayayaa" and I'm laughing and her friend is giving me a dirtttty look...and the conductor is looking at each one of us...and doesn't know what the fuck is going on!!
I'm like what the fuck is she trying to say man! And her friend is like "she's asking for a ticket to andheri station!"
"WHAAAAAA????"

Meanwhile there are attempts to stop the drool. At first the drool girl uses her handkerchief to clean...but then its too full of spit to be of any use...so that goes out of the window.
And then swati! then is the bestttttttt part!!!!
I don't know from where....but these guys find a newspaper ok...and guess what they do!! Fucking drunk bastards!!
They roll it into a ball and stuff it into her mouth!!

And by now I'm lying flat out on the last seat of the bus....n there is unbridled laughter!! I've never ever swati laughed so much and so hard in my life!!

P.S.
ahem...my sympathies with the girl and her friends ... but this was too bizzare a conversation to not put up on my blog... please excuse