I opened the door and before I got my second foot in, I heard it, Pok started scolding Gana “How dare you continue watching Hindi channel. Move to any
Any which way – they are pulling my leg or I join them against anyone else – this 1 hour is the happiest moment of my day. It is unsuccessful to bore me as yet, so it has got no chance with anybody else. I am quite sure of myself, you see.
Sunday evening. The faces were gloomy. Next day was Monday starting an ordeal of five working days to get a holiday again. We needed something just like The Great Raj Kapur show to lift our mood. Though watching movies (MOVIE!! MOVIE!!) running on Zee Cinema was a real pain in the neck, we all were hooked to Bobby. Rishi Kapoor and Dimple (Ohhh, Dimple!) looked fabulous lip synching “Hum tum ek kaamre mein bandh ho”. Suddenly Tapas hollered at Pok “Motherfucker, you are sitting on my pillow”. Pok, without even a try to shift, replied nonchalantly “I am trying to get a top view of Dimple’s cleavage; and don’t disturb me again till the movie finishes.” Then came that particular scene where in the song Dimple shed her clothes infront of a tiger and in skimpy attire offered to sacrifice herself to save Rishi Kapur. While gaping gleefully at the screen (actually at torturously beautiful and sexy Dimple to be more specific), I couldn’t help but blurted out “I don’t understand…I just don’t understand why Dimple shed her clothes (I don’t complain, of course) in front of the tiger? What did she think? The tiger would retreat behind a bush and begin to masturbate!...Hmmm, that must have been the plan, then they will be able to go back to the Bandh Kamra safely.” Everybody was stunned for a second and then broke into applause “What logic!” CLAP CLAP.
The song ended; Pok got up and started for the bathroom (No! not for that, you filthy mind) to shave. He turned and asked me “So, are we going?” Tapas asked “Where?” Pok answered “We are going to Habib’s next weekend.” Tapas’s brow shot up “To have a hair cut?” I calmed him down politely “No, no, to trim our hair down there. Every time I look at you, it catches fire.” Pok said “…so, we decided to throw the baby with the water. What is your hair down there in comparison with your friend?”
Two or three minutes passed after Pok left us, suddenly Gana rhymed “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Nodo was getting in. He got in and everybody joined “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” He looked irritated and replied calmly “Balls. Your father’s balls.” Nodo had this extraordinary ability to speak in English with some vernaculars so aptly placed in between that made everybody laugh. We saw some maduli (amulet) tied around his upper right arm with a string. Gana asked “Guru, what are these, guru.” Nodo replied “Balls. Your father’s balls.” We broke into laughter seeing his irritation. I was in wonderful mood that day; was able to come up with great comment to irritate the target and to amuse the others. Within a blink, I said “What is this, Nodo! Carrying others’ father’s balls? Carrying your own father’s, I would have understood. I would have understood that you thought they would be better protected dangling, tied with your upper arm than being between his legs. But carrying Gana’s father’s balls! Shame, Shame.” Others got hysterical with laughter and joined when they got there breath back “Shame, shame.” Nodo remained calm and with food stuffed in his mouth, said “Balls. Your father’s balls.”
We were startled by Pok’s scream “Fucking short me!!! Now how am I supposed to shave when I can’t reach up to the mirror?” Nodo showed us a photo of his would be better-half that he took from her behind. “I really liked her pechhon (posterior).” He exclaimed.
I left at the last moment possible for my apartment as I didn’t want to miss a single second of the night, but I wasn’t too disheartened about it for I knew tomorrow night wouldn’t be any different.