For weeks now, I've been trying to come up with something to write about, so as to entertain my hardworking friends, who slave all day long, while I fart away happily into the same chair that is literally glued to the computer table. While I was browsing my brain for 'interesting' things to write about, I came across funny little memories and stories that have made me laugh everytime I stumble upon them. So, I decided to be an upstanding citizen and compiled a few of these stories that I hope would bring some much needed laughter in your lives.
Every summer in Hyderabad was filled with fun, laughter and moments that I cherish to this day. We would spend half the holidays with my paternal grandparents and the rest with the maternal side. Both households provided us with incredibly hilarious memories. During the stay at my paternal grandparents house, my brother and I would spend a lot of time in the house next door with our second cousins. My grandmother had (infact, she still does) this habit to wash the tap before she washed her hands and then once she washed her hands she would wash the tap again. OCD at it's funniest best. The thing was...she made us do it too. So everytime we went anyhere near the sink, she would pop out of nowhere and chant, "Haath dho, tooti dho, haath dho" (Wash your hands, wash the tap, wash your hands). It would make us laugh everytime, without fail. She'd be standing over our heads and we'd be snickering away. I remember how we used to open doors with our feet, because the moment our hands touched the door frame or knob, our grandmother would know and would make us wash our hands. It's a miracle that our hands aren't all wrinkly by now. So everytime we hung out with our cousins, the 6 or 7 of us would be running around the room chanting, with all the strength of our larynxes, "Haath dho, tooti dho, haath dho". We even came up with a little dance. I wonder if our grandmother, in the next house, ever heard us. Till this day, everytime the cousins get together, we laugh about it. And my grandmother is still at it, and we love her for it!
My maternal grandmother was a rockstar. She was an extraordinary mimic and parties were thrown just so everyone could get together to watch her mimicry. Those were the good times. And I have countless funny memories of my grandma. She reminds me of myself, a lot actually. She did things that really cracked people up. Dinner was a big affair at my grandparents' place. After dinner, all the cousins would sit around and chat away into the night. One night, as everyone was sprawled around after a delicious Hyderabadi meal, my grandma spotted, what she thought was a cardamom seed on the dinner table. She picks it up and says, "Aiyo, elaichi ka dana pada hai idhar"(Oh! There's a cardamom seed lying here), and she pops it into her mouth before anyone could stop her. Soon enough she realised that it wasn't a cardamom seed, but lizard shit. Of course there were peals of laughter, and stomachs hurt for days after the incident. She always knew how to make us laugh, even involuntarily.
My mother has her moments too. She makes hillarious comments during movies that have us peeing our pants, and her storytelling technique is side-splitting. And I have a feeling it had something to do with an incident that happened when she was about 4 years old. My Uncle Jazz who was around 6 years old at the time had had enough of seeing the adults downing all the beer and not offering him any. When the parents went out for a lunch party, Uncle Jazz found some beer bottles and convinced my Mum to drink along with him. A couple of hours later, my grandparents returned to find Uncle Jazz and Mum, in their knickers, sprawled on the floor with empty bottles of beer all around them. I've often wished I was there to witness that.
This same Uncle would get super excited everytime he would hear the drums of a funeral procession. He would sprint out of the house and follow the procession. The people at the procession would throw coins and murmura (crispy puffed rice) over the dead body. And dear Uncle Jazz would pick up the coins and the murmura and fill his pockets up to the brim. Then he would swoop some more murmura in his hands and return home munching on it. His day was made, everytime some poor soul had an appointment with the Maker.
I'm beginning to understand now where all my stupidity and crazy behaviour might have come from. My dad's sister was probably the most notorious person in my entire family. The things she did put me to shame, but I've tried to follow in her footsteps the best I can. She hated studying and would do anything to avoid class tests. So one day she decided she simply had to get the damn test cancelled. She made her way to the chemistry lab and stole some hydrogen sulphide. Once she was in class, she threw it around and soon enough the class started smelling of rotten eggs. The test was cancelled, the kids were thrilled and my aunt was a success. Until Sister Anne (the class teacher) realised that only my aunt could've been behind the Rotten Egg incident. "There's a nasty spirit in the class", Sister Anne proclaims. My aunt looks up with a cheeky grin, knowing fully that she had just landed herself in big trouble. And even now, she relates the incident with a twinkle of pride in her eyes.
Schools and tests remind me of something my brother did once. The final exams were coming soon and my dad felt the need to have a little chat with my brother, "Talib, I want you to pass with flying colours". My brother nodded enthusiastically and then went into his room. A few minutes later he came out holding a bunch of sketch pens. Our attention is solely on him, waiting for him to say something. He throws the sketch pens in the air and turns to my dad, "There you go, your flying colours, now all I need to do is pass". I think that was perhaps my brother's only moment of ingeniousness.
My friend Nicolas was quite the naughty one growing up. And all his mischievousness was directed towards his little brother Damien. One fine morning he stripped Damien of all his clothes and pushed him out of the main door, naked as the day he was born. Poor Damien begs his brother to let him in, but Nic shows no mercy. Damien finds a potted plant and tries to cover himself from straying eyes. A while later, the postman shows up. The postman sees little Damien trying to cover his nakedness behind the plant and really wants to help the poor kid, but doesn't really want to have anything to do with a naked child. So there, on the porch of the Chevaillier home, stand the postman and bare-assed Damien. Nic watches the entire thing from inside his house, laughing mirthfully at his mischief. I think it's about time Damien got back! Watch out Nicky :)
Another story of nudity and laughter was relayed to me by my dear old friend, Vader. Vader was visiting his friends in Delhi during the summer break. Please remember, this is a bunch of pubescent boys and they could never be up to any good. Vader's friend tells him that he had recently spied a very hot, slightly older girl showering in the house next door. They decide to go on a little quest of sexual satisfaction. Under the cover of night, the boys climb ladders and roofs and finally find a good spot from where they could watch the sexy girl lather and wash herself. The boys shivering with anticipation, eyes shining with unadulterated lust, palms sweating with excitement, and weenies twitching with glee, wait for the luscious beauty to arrive. The door opens, the boys hold their breath. In walks, an old lady with a massive behind. There is an audible sigh, and it's a good thing the old are usually deaf. Vader and his boys hope that the old lady would do her job and leave soon, so that her more appealing grand-daughter could come in for her nightly shower. The horny little buggers had no idea what was in store for them. "Phhqqwaaashhhh", the sound of a big turd splashing echoed in the bathroom. Vader and his friends, wide-eyed and shocked beyond belief, scarred forever; covered their mouths and noses. The Granny farted some more, washed her ass and left; the bathroom was reeking of mojo killing scent. Vader and the boys fled from there, never to return, worried that this incident would kill their every uplifting moment. Damn the bathing beauty!
For me, these stories are the best way to remember people. I might have not been there, but the imagination is a powerful thing and to imagine these people that I love and adore, in these extremely hilarious situations, always brings a smile to my face. Unfortunately, I never remember the crazy shit I did back then...but others do, and that's how they seem to remember me.
