Jammy, as Jamshed V Rajan is affectionately called, is a wannabe stand up comedian. He has a funny take on most things but documents only some of them. If you are interested in chatting up with him, do drop him an email at jv.rajan@gmail.com or message him at +919650080255.
Sometimes kids end up cracking the biggest of jokes.
In order to pacify my three and a half year old daughter who had been scolded by my wife early in the morning, I told her: “Rhea, don’t worry…sometimes your mother is too much.”
Pat came her reply: “Not too much. Mother is Magar-much.”
I didn’t tell her, but I agree with my daughter’s view on my wife. Now, I am convinced she is indeed my daughter.
*Some explanation due for my south Indian readers – a Magar-much is Hindi for Crocodile.
If I were Facebook Mail, it would have been amazing…for I would have been on everybody’s lips. If in the last one week you have been on this Earth, you would have heard about Facebook Mail (or Facebook Messages).
Experts believe that Facebook is most suited to provide a mailing service because they know how each one of us behaves with each of our friends within our social circle. Perfect!
Now, see how your dashboard could look (and read) once Facebook Mail is open to all your friends.
They say the best way to attract women is to carry a baby around, and act like a caring father. Or better still, the guy who adopted a baby because he just couldn’t bear the sight of the orphan growing up alone in this big, bad world.
I did try this trick….and it did work to an extent – the extent being my baby daughter’s cheeks.
They would stop by, ask for her name, and then say stock lines like “she is a doll” “quite a princess she is” “she is damn cute” or “just look at her cheeks”. Their parting shot was always a peck on Rhea’s cheeks and that’s it. Not a single word about myself…the person responsible for bringing this princess, doll, cute thing…whatever… into this big, bad World.
After my daughter, I tried various other living things…cats, rabbits, parrots, turtles, puppies…you name the living thing and I have tried that on the women. Barring four animals of course – Lion, Tiger, Elephant & Rhinoceros.
None of them got me the expected results. Though they did pet the animal, and ask for its name they didn’t ask for mine. I didn’t mind them not asking my name….but I got might pissed when they didn’t call me home too. That’s what got me ticked.
This made me wonder….could it be a non-living thing? Is there a non-living thing that could attract women to you like houseflies to horseshit? After four years of research, today I finally found out that item.
Today I walked about 100 meters with this item in my hands, and I had four women – some married some not ask me what its price was and how effective it was and how to use it etc. I answered all their questions with patience. So much so, out of the four women….one even asked me to come home sometime in the evening.
“Can you come home today evening please?”
I looked behind me, if she was asking some passerby to come home. There was nobody.
“Are you asking me to come to YOUR house?”
The lady looked surprised, and confirmed.
“What about your husband? Will he not be home?”
The lady looked surprised, but replied confidently with a smile: “No, he doesn’t need to know this.”
Wow…it had finally worked.
“But wouldn’t your husband get suspicious?”
Again, the lady looked surprised. But calmed herself and replied: “Well, if you ask me…I would say he is quite suspicious of this habit of mine. He often asks me why I am so obsessed, but I have no answer.”
I prided on my luck. Imagine finding a lady obsessed with sex – that’s like finding a needle in a haystack at 12 midnight, when it is raining heavily and all you have is one candle. Not to mention you have only one match stick in the box of matches.
“So, you would come home at 6 p.m.?”
Being a practiced gentleman, I replied: “Ohh sure. Since it will be our first time, should I get something for you when I come?”
“It might be the first time for you, but I have hosted gentlemen such as yourself before. The last one was a Eureka Forbes vacuum cleaners salesman.”
Her reply swept the floor…or should I say road…coz we were still standing on the road…off my feet. So she was an expert at this. I made a mental note to pat myself on the back when I was alone.
“Done deal then, I will be there at 6 p.m.. Which apartment did you say you live in?”
“We stay at 1002, Tower 7.”
“That’s nice. I will be there.”
She then turned and started walking, and even as I watched the sway of her hips…she turned back and said: “Please don’t forget to bring the mop when you come. I like to get into the details.”
“Sure Missy,” I said naughtily, but she didn’t reciprocate.
I stood there watching the sway of her hips till she disappeared into Tower 7.
————X————–
At 6 p.m. same day, I stood at her door with a mop in hand. Wild thoughts ran in my mind…kinky sex after a long time. Imagine, a mop being a prop. Earlier in my life, I have used a pillow as a prop. Sometimes some wires…but when one of us fell unconscious…I had to stop using them. Sometimes, I have also used the treadmill as a prop…but nothing beats a mop with a long handle when it comes to kinky sex.
My mind continued to race, while I rang the bell.
It was then that I heard the familiar voice: “Coming…I hope you have bought the mop along.”
I won’t get into the details of what happened next, but I was out of her house in ten minutes flat. The demo lasted two minutes….and the other eight minutes she was giving me hints to leave the house. The last hint was: “Why don’t we catch up later. I was leaving the house right away to catch a movie.”
Like I have always said…we Rajans are also made of sterner stuff. Look at the positive side…now I didn’t have to make up an excuse for a 4-5 hours long absence from home.
As my wife opened the door, I looked at her face, brought a fake smile on mine & said: “Whenever I am away from home, I miss you.” This brought a smile on Rekha’s face. I did spot some love as well.
We didn’t use the mop, though.
You know the good thing about father-in-laws? Once you are married to their daughters you don’t need to impress them. And, do you know the bad thing about wives? They understand the son-in-law vs father-in-law undercurrents, and thus force you to respect him.
I am a better person early in the morning, so when I saw my father-in-law in just his lungi…I didn’t feel upset that this was the image I would be carrying with me the whole day – an old man in a lungi.
Out of concern for him, I said: “Acha, this is not Kerala. Delhi winter is known to be cruel…please wear a shirt.”
*Acha means father in Malayalam. Of all the ironies, In Hindi it almost means ‘Yes’….
“Ahh! You Tamilians born and brought in 35-40 degree Celsius are really scared of the cold huh?”
“Acha, why are you bringing in the regional angle…as if it snows in Kerala?”
“Well we don’t have snow…but the lowest temperature in Kerala is around 15 degree Celsius. That’s pretty cold I would say.” I knew he was proud of being a Malayali and was looking down upon me – as we always do to the guy from the neighboring state.
“Acha, in Delhi it goes down to 2 degree Celsius.”
“That’s not much. If we can manage 15 degrees we can manage 2 degrees – after all, it is only less…not more.”
I couldn’t see his shirtless torso any more, so congratulated him for his bravado hoping that soon he will catch a cold and start respecting my views. Obviously, I didn’t reveal my plan of doing the traditional karagatam dance around his bed while he will be recuperating.
Just in case you didn’t know…. I have bought him a new pair of bathroom slippers so that he doesn’t feel the cold of the vitrified tiles, and I have also bought him a jacket for the early morning chill. He is yet to use both of them.
I left for office thinking that the evening could only be better than the morning.
At about 6 p.m. I rang the bell of my house and my father in law opened the door – still standing in just his lungi.
As if to tease me, he said: “By the way, I am yet to catch a cold.”
The house was cold. My father in law’s behaviour was making it colder. I immediately rushed to my room at the far end of the house and shouted to Rekha on the way: “Do you know where my tracks are? And that blue sweatshirt?”
I didn’t get a response. Instead, all I heard was laughter. Pity laughter. Sympathy laughter. Jeering laughing. I-knew-this-guy-would-ask-for-his-sweatshirt laughter.
I found my tracks & my blue sweatshirt….but didn’t have the heart to wear that and enter the drawing room where all three – my father-in-law, my mother-in-law and my wife were sitting and having tea. I wore my T-shirt and shorts instead. WTF….didn’t know Delhi could be so cold in early November.
Made a mental note: No sweatshirts and tracks for me till the old man starts wearing at least a T-shirt.
If you are a guy and are planning to marry somebody from another State, I would suggest you select a State that’s similar in climatic conditions as yours. Read on to see how the three Malayalis at the table tortured this Tamilian.
“Aren’t you feeling too cold too soon?” My mother in law joined in.
“He always does. Last year he started wearing the winter jackets by mid-October itself.” My wife gave her stamp of approval.
“We Malayalis don’t feel as cold.” My father-in-law generalized.
At that point, I so wanted all the three of them to catch a cold and be bed-ridden for a few days…just to prove a point. I remained quite.
“Is that why you Tamilians try to avoid taking bath?” It was my father-in-law.
“No we don’t.” I insisted.
“Yes, you do…that’s why we in Kerala even have a nickname for Tamilians. We call them ‘Pandi’ – the one that didn’t take bath.” My father-in-law insisted too.
“No Acha, people in Kerala call Tamilians ‘Pandi’ because we were ruled by the Pandyas, the most powerful kings ever in Southern region of India.”
“OK fine….leave the nickname aside. But don’t you guys avoid baths?” Now I knew from where my wife got her ability to nag.
“Acha, it was just one day….I felt as if I was about to catch a cold and decided to NOT take bath.” Defending oneself against generalized attacks is difficult.
“No, you did it once when you were in Kerala too.” My mother in law chipped in.
*Amme in Malayalam means Mother.
“Amme, that was one day. Besides, if it weren’t for the Tamil men like me you won’t have anybody to marry off your girls to.”
“What do you mean?” My mother-in-law looked confused.
“Yeah, all the men in Kerala have gone to work in the Gelf & marry the Sheik.”
(If you are a non-Malayali, you should read Gelf as the Gulf)
This touched a nerve amongst the three Malayalis in my house. If I were to include my three and a half year old daughter, that would be four Malayalis in the house – she also roams around the house in her cotton vest.
Needless to say, it was an all out war. Thank God I didn’t marry a Muslim girl…my house then would have been a hot-spot for communal riots – Dr Manmohan Singh would have had to come and addressed the Rajans just before the Supreme Court verdict on Babri Masjid decision. And we would have had a three-day curfew – no getting out of your bedrooms before the Supreme Court announced its decision.
Anyway, now they are taunting me to join them in a round-table Tamil Nadu vs Kerala war….so need to finish this article soon.
Like I have said so many times before…we Rajans are made of sterner stuff…we fight it out and fight hard. Maybe, that’s why I have bought Mother Dairy’s 2 Kg Casata ice-cream pack. I won’t be eating it….but the plan is to encourage the three Malayalis in my house to eat ice-cream on chilly winter evenings and get them bed-ridden. Just to prove a point.
I was in Manipal to give a TEDx Talk recently. Find more details about it here. The experience was exhilarating to say the least.
It all started with an innocent little mail in my inbox one day. It read:
Dear Sir,
We invite you to speak at TEDx Manipal to be held on 21st September, 2010. Please find attached the Speaker Invitation package, also let us know if you have any queries.
With your brand of humor and satire, we think you will be an amazing last minute addition to our event.
We first wanted to get Russel Peters, then Papa CJ, and then we tried Vir Das and when all three refused to move their ass, we are trying to get you to speak at TEDx Manipal.
Please don’t consider this as a formal invite yet. This is just a heads up for you – in case Rahul Roshan of fakingnews.com also refuses citing a busy schedule.
We will get back to you once Mr Rahul refuses. Looking forward to having you on board our esteemed panel.
Your sincerely,
Siddharth (I could reveal his full name, but don’t want my readers issuing a fatwa against him)
I read the mail and was mighty impressed with myself. I walked up to the mirror and said “Good Morning, TEDx Manipal!” a couple of times.
My wife knitted her brows and asked me, “So, what is the new gig? What is this new Manipal thing?”
“I am going to Manipal!”
“You have me, our daughter and your in-laws to feed…who will bring home the proverbial bacon. Besides, you are too old for college.” It was Rekha speaking …always worried about the long term security & stability.
I said: “Aree bhaagwaan, I might be giving a TEDx Talk there. Aren’t you excited?”
“Organizers should never invite for a speaking session based on the written word…they are going to repent their decision,” Rekha replied before walking into the kitchen.
That’s the good thing with my wife, she always finds out innovative methods of motivating me.
After a few days, I got another mail from Siddharth:
Dear Sir/Madam (just in case you have undergone a sex change in the interim),
Mr Rahul Roshan of fakingnews.com is playing hard to get. While we can sense that he is faking it…as he does with all of his news items….we can’t do much about it. Under the new circumstances, we invite you to be a speaker at TEDx Manipal.
We are handling the travel expenses of all of the TEDx speakers, but making an exception in your case since you are an exceptional speaker. You can book your own travel and be there in time for your Tedx Talk. Please remember to book your return tickets for the same day you arrive in Manipal, for we are making an exception of you when it comes to accommodation as well.
**If Rahul Roshan of fakingnews.com stops faking it in the last minute, we might cancel your talk but will give you the permission to sit in the audience as a guest attendee.
Looking forward to hearing your talk if Mr Roshan doesn’t come on board.
Your sincerely,
Siddharth
Jokes apart, my tickets were finally booked and sent across to me. I was to travel with Roshan of fakingnews.com from Delhi to Manipal. If you have never traveled from Delhi to Manipal, let me tell you that it is an arduous journey. One takes a flight from Delhi to Mumbai or Bangalore, then takes a flight from Mumbai or Bangalore to Mangalore…and if your flight doesn’t fall into the valley immediately after the runway at the Mangalore airport, you drive down in a cab to reach Manipal.
On the way to Manipal, while Rahul was sitting next to me…I was snoring away to glory. Though Rahul doesn’t admit it…I know for sure that my snoring inside the aeroplane inspired him to write a blog post for fakingnew.com….titled: Railways passengers to be fined for farting and snoring inside coaches). To ensure I didn’t come to know of it, he did three things…he back dated the post to Feb 2010, he changed the location from an aeroplane to a train and then….added farting as a nuisance too. What cheeky bugger, this Rahul!
Anyway, we were put up at a hotel called Orange Suites in Udupi. Just in case you didn’t know Udupi is a small town right next to Manipal.
On day one, I met up with few of the other speakers like Rashmi Bansal, Prof Prabhat Ranjan, Nakul Shenoy, Somen Dawn, and Prakash Shesh for dinner.
The problem with spending time with intelligent people is that one has to act like an intelligent guy. Here are some of the statements I used at regular intervals to act like an intelligent guy:
Having successfully faked my intelligence, I finished my dinner in peace.
The next day, we were at Hotel Valley View, the venue of TEDx Manipal…and I was to be the second speaker. The problem with being one of the initial speakers is that you know that the audience hasn’t exhausted its tomatoes & potatoes. I took the risk, and agreed to be the second speaker.
So, at 10.30 a.m. on 21st September 2010…I was standing in front of an audience of 400-450 students holding a mike in hand. Some famous guy had said that at various times in your life your whole life will flash in front of you. What he didn’t say was that it could flash in front of you even when you were standing in front of 400-450 students who looked up to you to deliver the best TEDx Talk ever.
“No, I am not shivering!”
Yes, those were the first lines I managed to utter. The crowd laughed…they thought it was part of the planned speech. My knees started knocking…the crowd thought it was planned as well and started clapping. The mike slipped from in between my sweaty fingers…the student audience clapped again.
I don’t know how the next 18 minutes went…I do remember that everything was dark around me (but my eyes were wide open) and I was hearing students laughing and clapping in between. My speech was supposed to be on what corporate are all about – and I vaguely remember that it was supposed to be funny.
After 18 minutes of talking, I remember saying “Thank You!”….and the moment I said that…I started breathing again. And when the MC got the mike from my hand and said, “Thank you Mr Jamshed for the so-so speech,” I sighed and was happy that the worst was over. To top it, I had survived.
Before I left the stage, I looked around to see what the students had thrown at me. There were quite a few items: 7 tomatoes, 4 cauliflowers, one completed answer sheet of the Radio Electronics exam, 2 eggs, one engineering book titled ‘Instrument Engineer’s Handbook’ authored by Bela Liptak & one jackfruit.
Many speakers came and went after that…but my thoughts were only on one thing. Will the TEDx Manipal organizers post the video on the web? Unfortunately, the answer was yes…so I came up with my plan to sabotage the video.
I walked up to the video grapher and said: “How much are these videos worth?”
“In cash or kind?” The videographer sure knew his Economics.
We Rajans aren’t that bad with Economics either, so I replied: “In cash. If I can buy you in cash…it is as good as me buying you in kind.”
“Yeah, maybe. But what do you really want?” The videographer leaned over to see the stage. Perhaps, he didn’t want to miss out the antics of the last speaker – Mind Reader Nakul Shenoy.
“How much will it cost me to buy you? I want you to tell TEDx Manipal organizers that the videos didn’t get recorded at all.” I was a hard bargainer and I knew the price I was willing to pay.
“Hmm…can’t really put a price to it,” he said and continued to decipher Nakul Shenoy’s antics on stage.
“Why so? Don’t you have needs? A new TV maybe…a new sofa?” I insisted.
After a long discussion (mostly one sided) I came to know that videographers are difficult to buy. They can be rented…but not bought.
It has been three days since, and we are all back to our respective lives.
But I have a few things up my sleeve – like organizing an accident when the videographer goes to the Manipal Institute of Technology to deliver the videos – but till then, I live in the fear that soon the video will be up and yours sincerely will be exposed.
*BTW, I did give two autographs after my speech was over. I just wish, it wasn’t stage managed by the organizers to make me feel happy.
I will never forget how I tasted liquor for the first time.
The biology teacher (whom I had a crush on, and thus went on to score 87% in XII so as to impress her) informed us that the next day we will be dissecting frogs and one of us had to volunteer to bring in a spoon-full of alcohol for the whole class. This apparently was to anesthetize the frogs before we went about dissecting them.
Being the one that wanted to impress her most, I volunteered saying there was a lot of alcohol in my house and I could bring some. The next day, I washed a bottle of Glycodin cough syrup and walked up to my father: “Pa, my biology teacher has asked me to get some rum.”
“Rum? Why, can`t she buy her own if she wants to drink?”
“No pa, this is for the frogs.”
“Frogs? Since when have the frogs started drinking?”
“No pa, we are dissecting the frogs so we needed alcohol.”
“Like the sewage cleaners? Who usually get drunk before starting work because of the stench involved in cleaning a septic tank?”
“No pa…this isn`t for the students but for the frogs. We want to anesthetize them before dissecting them. So, that they don`t feel the pain.”
“Ohh ok. Take some from the Old Monk bottle that`s already open.”
After his permission was obtained, I filled up the Glycodin cough syrup bottle. The next day when I walked into the school I felt as the most powerful man in school – I felt I was the principal.
The dissection went on smoothly, except for that one bhramin guy who decided his religion was more important that scoring marks in biology.
After the school was over that day, I approached my classmates. “Guys, what do you think…shouldn`t we all take a sip each?”
For once, the decision was unanimous. All of the 16 boys wanted to drink, but when we said that drinking will happen in the abandoned old school building, the three girls who had wanted to drink dropped out. Who cared, any way.
We all ran to the old school building and congregated in the abandoned men`s toilet. It could comfortably hold six people….but we were sixteen and NOT complaining. Before we even opened the cough syrup bottle, we were already high from the stench emanating from abandoned washroom. I think they stopped cleaning the washrooms six months before they were abandoned.
After about five minutes all 16 of us stumbled out of the abandoned men`s toilets ….and I have to admit that all were wasted. Nine of 16 the guys who started drinking that day are still drinking – 19 years later.
After the baptism had happened, I was a regular. My father didn`t know but we both used to share the same bottle. When I thought that the chances of getting caught were high…I would add water to the Old Monk rum bottle.
Till I got a job and moved out of the house, my father didn`t realize that I had been drinking from his bottle. Though, he had started complaining that Mohan Meakin, the makers of Old Monk rum, had stopped focusing on quality. I didn`t have the heart to tell him that it wasn`t Mohan Meakin Breweries fault.
Till my father passed away in 2006, he believed that Mohan Meakin went thro` a bad patch of four years when their quality dipped – and he thought it could have been due to a change in management.
When I joined The New Indian Express, I met a dude called Krishna Kumar. We became drinking buddies. Our drinking was once a week – on Saturdays. If we didn`t have 17 rupees each, we couldn`t go for a drink that week – and there were many occasions when we couldn`t. The Infographic below explains what this Rs 17 were spent on:
Back then, I was staying at Ambal Lodge in Cross Cut Road in Coimbatore and Krishna was staying in Ramanathapuram (near our office)…and depending on where we were drinking, we would piss in front of the respective land lord`s house. The fact that we would roam around the streets drunk on two pegs of Old Monk till 10.30 p.m. before pissing ensured that we never got caught. Phew! Those were the days.
After two years in Coimbatore, I moved to Chennai in search of greener pastures. Now I had more money, and also two credit cards to flaunt – Standard Charted & ICICI Credit cards.
In the early 2000s, there was a chain of Dhanalaskhmi Wines in Chennai that we would frequent. Now my drinking partners were my friends Dennis & Madan. Since I had enough money (and the credit cards), I could afford to get drunk on beers – in case you don`t know…it takes more money to get drunk on beer.
When Dhanalaskshmi Wines closed down, we shifted to Peninsular Bar in T Nagar, Chennai. Here is where I learnt the art of swiping my credit card without feeling guilty. The more I got drunk, the more I swiped my credit cards for my drunk friends. By the time I was ready to get married, I had 1.7 lakhs out-standing on my credit card….all accumulated by drinking.
Now, we didn`t do daring acts after getting drunk….though, once in a while we would walk up to the Marina beach and pee in the waters (Note: Don`t blame me for the water in the Marina beach being salty…it was salty even before we peed in it).
With time, I shifted to Gurgaon for even greener pastures. Now, I earn quite a bit and can afford Single Malts…but my drinking sessions aren`t as exciting as they used to be. I spend family time with the friends I really care about…and drinking has become a means to socialize & build contacts. The topics of discussion are almost always negative & leave a bad taste in the mouth – which even the best of beers can`t wash away.
In fact, I wouldn`t be surprised if after I leave a drinking session, some of the folks I was drinking with point at me and say: “What an ass!”
To tell you the truth, after each drinking session I end up thinking: “Not as much fun as the time when I only had Rs 17 in my pocket!”
When I was in class nine, I had my first love affair. That`s when I leant that to make a woman happy a man (or a 14 year old boy) had to compliment her, kiss her, love her, stroke her, caress her, comfort her, tease her, hug her, listen to her, stand by her, hold her and last of all spend money on her.
Back then, I didn`t know what women had to do to make men (or boys) happy….but by the time I started drinking beer….I was sure. The women only had to turn up naked, with a beer in hand.
But by then, it was too late. By the time I was 19 I already had two broken relationships, and was single again.
My first girl friend had left me because she thought we were incompatible. She said she was a Gemini and I was an asshole – and according to Linda Goodman, the two never get along well.
The second break up was with a girl called Madhuri (name changed to avoid late night blank yet threatening calls). This is how the break up happened:
Jammy: Madhuri, please don`t leave me. I can`t live with out you.
Madhuri: Try breathing. You can.
Jammy: I know I will live if I breathe. It is a figure of speech. By the way if you leave me now you will never find anyone like me again.
Madhuri: What makes you think I will be looking for somebody like you? A twin brother of yours maybe? Huh?
I didn`t have the heart to tell her that I didn`t have a twin. I was the only son…in fact I didn`t even have a brother – only two sisters.
My next love affair was a girl called Sumitra – she didn`t know for 14 months that I existed, but when she finally did….she said I was too poor for her. I tried telling her that being the only son, I will be inheriting our house and ancestral property after my parents…but that didn`t move her either.
I confronted her one day. I said: “Sumitra, I need you to be mine. I can`t spell success without ‘U`. If there were a visual, I would have shown you properly….but I hope you know that without ‘U` success spells kind of odd….S-C-C-E-S-S. You know what I mean?
Sumitra: What is the point, Jammy?
Jammy: Can you love me? I have been in love with you for last 14 months. I have also written 427 poems for you. Remember that yahoo ID meet-me-in-heaven from which you get love poems? That was me.
Sumitra: That was you? Ohh gosh! Which school did you study in? Don`t bother answering that.
Jammy: Yeah, that was me. Liked them?
Sumitra: Listen Jammy. Men are like bank accounts – without a lot of money they don`t generate much interest. And for me, you don`t exist.
We Rajans (just in case you didn`t know, Jammy is my nickname) have a very strong personality and we taken rejection with our chin up. I immediately stopped mailing her my poems on a daily basis. Though, I did maintain my weekly digest of poems for a few months.
About six years after Sumitra rejected me, I met a girl called Rekha. She was around me for 2 years before I noticed her. Not because I was surrounded by women all the time, and Rekha got blocked out, but because she was then going around with somebody else. To be on the safer side, let us change his name to Rakesh Roshan. Now, we all know that a Rakesh Roshan can`t be a Hrithik Roshan….so Rekha conveniently dumped him, one fine day.
Within a month, Rekha and I were on our first date. Mind you, Rekha is a girl with amazing sense of humor. If it weren`t for her, one wouldn`t get the dope for this blog. Anyway, here is our discussion on our first date on the shores of Marina beach, Chennai – four years before we got married.
Jammy: Rekha, you just dumped Rakesh Roshan. Aren`t you worried about that guy?
Rekha: No, why? I got bored with him in the first year itself…the second year was pathetic. And it is not like our office has some great looking guys.
Jammy: So, you will break away if the relationship isn`t exciting?
Rekha: I suppose so. Husbands or boy friends should be able to make it exciting without money, or should have enough money to buy excitement.
Jammy: In this case you weren`t married….but what if you were married to rakesh Roshan?
Rekha: I would have taken his house with me.
Jammy: Why do you guys screw us when you leave us?
Rekha: That`s the screwing you get for the screwing you got.
Jammy: If that`s the plan, why even get married. Why not live-in?
Rekha: See, we also don`t like to advertise our wedding gowns on eBay, saying ‘worn only once by mistake`. But we marry…because we have to….else there is no excitement.
Jammy: So, indirectly you are saying that you need someone who will love you even when you are old and fat and ugly?
Rekha: You could say that. But you got to understand that we have this expectation from you guys maybe ten years from now…but you guys have this expectation from us now itself – look at your tummy. And have you looked at yourself in the mirror?
Jammy: You know what….I am not looking for a girl like you….I am looking for an angel to marry.
Rekha: You will have to marry a dead girl for her to be an angel.
Jammy: Hmmm…then, why should I even marry and go thro` the whole torture? Why shouldn`t I find a bad woman, hand over my house keys and walk into an oncoming train?
Rekha: Yeah, I would reckon so. I can be that bad woman. Let me know when and where I have to come to collect the keys.
It has been nine years since we discussed this, and today Rekha and I have known each other for nine years and been married for five. Keep your fingers crossed!