Hullo,
Just came back from home after a very refreshing vacation. All I did was eat, drink, sleep, leak, eat, drink, leak, sleep and brrrrrrrrrr…repeat the cycle again. However a few interesting incidents took place.
You know what happens to an average IIT guy when he goes back home. The neighbors and relatives look more excited than the parents and storm the house with their wards and say:
“Ise zara guide kar na.” OR
“Tu bada sayana hai. Ise bhi kuchh bata na” OR
“Badi fikr ho rahi hai mujhe. Din bhar matagashti chalt rahti hai iski. Bilkul serious nahi hai.” OR
“Ye bahut hoshiyaar hai. Maine socha tujhse milva doo to iske doubts clear ho jayenge…poochh le beta bhaiya se“
And then you start the pravachan, half the time looking at the boy/girl in front of you and half the time cursing that if only I hadn’t been into IIT, I would have been sleeping cosily at the moment. But then you are in IIT and you can’t change that now.
Something similar happened this time but there is a slight twist here. We have these neighbors whose daughter is in IIT Mumbai. Now that background will never lead to the scenarios described above. Or so I thought until this happened. So, one fine afternoon when I was dozing off, my mother came in and woke me up:
“Beta utho to. dekho kaun aaya hai.“
“Kya amma. Sone do na. Kaun hai ?“
“Sharma Aunty pados waali. Jaldi uth.“
“Amma unko kah do na ki me soya hua hoon. Please yaar.“
“Beta aise nahi karte. Woh tere liye aayi hai. Unko apni beti ke liye kuchh…“
“Gurrrrrrrr kya yaar…apni beti ki shaadi karni hai kya unko“
“Hmm..dhang se haan, zyaada badh mat. Chupchaap utho aur paanch minute me bahar dikhna. Aur dhang se aana.“
Nazi intimidation techniques. Mothers can be harsh sometimes. Anyway I tidied myself and went out and whoooooooooosh…I see this smoking hot babe sitting on the deewan in white chudhidaar and pink kurti. Now this can’t be Sharma Aunty. The whole Sharma Aunty thing does not fit this lady and so I look ‘yonder’ and am relieved at seeing the most perfect Sharma Aunty I have ever seen in her very Indian saari sitting right beside my mother. So the babe must be the daughter.
“Yeh mera beta Sidhharth. Sid yeh Sharma aunty aur yeh unki beti Naina hai.” My mother introduced us.
“Namaste aunty.” “Namaste beta“
“Hi Naina“
So this girl, I notice, had been looking at me continuously. Please note that this can not be because she is interested in me the way I would have liked it but because I am fat, out-of-proportion and had an awkward bearded face at that time. In any case, she smiles at me and replies faintly.
And then began Sharma Aunty with all her rona-dhona.
“She is confused about extra-curriculars, she is confused about what to do after IIT, she is confused about this, she is confused about that.”
I interrupted in what might have been something like Fidel Castro’s long speeches in Cuba. “Aunty mujhe lagta hai use aap thoda time dijiye. She is already into the system. She will figure it out. Abhi to samay hai.”
“Par beta…“
“Ranjana, Sidhharth sahi kah raha hai Let her see things. Abhi to aayi hi hai. Ek hi saal hua hai.” My mother saved the day.
The discussion continued further. All this while I am looking at her like a moron and she is staring back at me when suddenly Sharma Aunty said:
“Naina, poochh le aur kuchh poochhna ho Sidhharth Bhaiya se to“
Bhaiya? I mean …bhaiya? Kya bakwaas hai yaar. Why Bhaiya? And then Naina said, “Nahi Mummy. Sab poochh hi to liya hai Sidhharth Bhaiya se.” The emphasis on bhaiya was a bit too much.
And then they left. My mother closed the door and came back and said, ” Jao so jao bhaiya ab.”
“Amma! Aap bhi? Bhaiya nahi hoon me kisi ka. Aur ab need kaha aayegi?“
“Hain?“
“Theek hai. Jo karnaa ho karo.“
“Ab kuchh hoga bhi nahi mujhse.“
“Kyo bhaiya…“
‘Yaar amma…bas“
“Kya?“
“Bhaiya mat bolo mujhe…“
“Hain?“
“Theek hai bhai…“
“Gurrrrrrrrrrrrrrr“
Shit man. Never become a bhaiya to a superhot babe. Already IITian junta ko bandiyo ki killat hai.
