Author: Jamshed V Rajan

Other equally important incidents that have happened on April 26th

2002 – 19-year-old Robert Steinhäuser shoots and kills 17 people at his school in Erfurt, Germany.

1994 – A China Airlines Airbus A-300-600R crashes at Nagoya Airport, Japan killing 264.

1986 – In Ukraine, a nuclear reactor at the Chornobyl (Chernobyl) nuclear plant explodes, creating the world’s worst nuclear disaster. Thirty-one people are killed directly by the incident and many thousands more are exposed to significant amounts of radioactive material.

1962 – Ranger program: The Ranger 4 spacecraft crashes into the Moon.

1942 – The worst-ever mining accident in history kills 1,549 miners in an explosion at the Honkeiko Colliery, Manchuria.

1933 – The Gestapo, the official secret police force of Nazi Germany, is established.

A popular (?) man who was born on this date

1894 – Rudolf Hess, Nazi official (d. 1987)

I am a surprised man today. On the way to my office, I saw no celebrations…people had not started lighting up lamps, and were not bursting crackers. Whatever has happened to the concept of celebrating birthdays of great men with fanfare? But then, nobody celebrated Jawahar Lal Nehru`s and Mahatma Gandhi`s birthdays when they were alive. I agree…some are upset with the way Gandhi`s birthday is celebrated – by closing all liquor shops. It is like a doctor cutting blood supply to rest of the body and announcing to the patient: “You are fine now; you can celebrate and have a party!”

Coming back to my birthdays…I have never known if April 26th is a good day to be born. The year I am not revealing because even today I believe I am 25. Just that very soon, I will be taking in 35+ energy tablets, which Jeetendra was promoting on TV some 12-15 years back. Would he be taking in 55+ tablets now?

My first birthday gift was a cradle – from my father`s elder brother. How much I wish it were a new one because…the one gifted to me had been passed on for generations. So much so…there was a stone carving of the man who invented fire, on the right side of the cradle. On the left side, somebody had scribbled “Haneef loves Mumtaz” with a pen knife. Don`t they do that to everything historical?

When a kid, my birthdays were celebrated with aplomb. My relatives would even get me new clothes. When in class three, I even got a red, nylon trouser as a birthday gift from one of my uncles (my mother`s brother). My other relatives say he could have stolen it from the neighbor`s terrace. My father agrees because he happened to my mother`s brother. For my part…for one whole day I walked without bending my knees because I didn`t want to spoil the crease on the trouser.

When I grew old – that is when I was 10+ – I started getting greeting cards from girls. Probably because I was turning out to be a handsome young man. There was only one small issue…they all signed it ‘from your loving sister.`

That leads us to what my sisters would give me for my birthday. The younger of the two – Sumathi, was the more creative one. She would rummage through her cupboard and pick up some old greeting card that she had got….or probably picked up from somebody else`s dustbin…and with a blue ink pen…try and cover-up the real names…and write my name…and leave it at my pillow. There would be so much ink in the greeting card that by the time I get up, I would be nauseated and would rush straight to the washroom.

Deepa – my younger sister (but elder of the two) had her own birthday plans for me. When young she was an exponent in paper-craft…which meant I would get an aero plane for my birthday. She would even write my name on it. Just that to fit my full name she had to make two aero planes, with four wings each. As she grew older, she tried her hand at better gifts like – knitting a sweater (In Madurai`s it is generally 40 degree Celsius), knitting woolen socks (somebody had forgotten to tell her than 18-year-olds don`t wear woolen socks) and presenting me a photo frame with Anil Kapoor`s picture in it. Wonder what she wanted me to do with Anil Kapoor`s pictures.

With my parents…it is a totally different story. The miser that my father was/is he would say their blessings were the best birthday gift they could give me. By the time I was 14 years old, I had learnt to say “Yeah right!” whenever he said that. Earlier, I was pretty happy with the blessings. As for my mother…she always made gajar ka halwa. How much I wish she did not see all those Hindi movies.

Now, I am married…and more surprises are in store for me.

Rekha pecked me on the cheeks in the morning and said: “Happy birthday honey!”

“Where is my gift?” I asked trying not to be too demanding.

“I am your gift. Take me.” She said.

That came as a surprise…I hadn`t prepared for that one. I needed three cups of tea before I could reply to that one, so I stayed silent. But said to myself: “But Rekha, I thought you were already taken?”

Footnote: I generally pick up Rekha on my way back from office. But today she says she has to go someplace in the evening…I hope it is not a beauty parlor. Hope it is to get a gift for me……pray for me guys.

This is perhaps the most boring errand that I have had to run for my wife. It even beats making tea at 6.30 a.m. when the time is just right to pull at the bed-sheet and cuddle against some warm body in the neighbor`s bed.

Sarat Chandran is my school friend (we studied X, XI & XII together -he studied…and I took care of the ‘together` bit) and if I were left alone, I would have never bought a gift for his marriage – which is today.

I never encourage gifts…except when I am at the receiving end. I have followed the same principle throughout my life…and perhaps that is why we got only three gifts for my marriage – one that was intended for the next marriage hall but landed in ours by mistake, one that I had sent myself…faking the from address to Tom Hanks, B8, Pine Street, Hollywood, US of A and the third one that came from Julia Roberts, Gandhi Street, Vivekananda Nagar, Hollywood, US of A. I promise…I did not send the Julia Roberts one.

This is the first marriage I am attending in Chennai with my legally wedded wife in tow. It is still illegal to take along Swapna, Preeti and Mumtaz. And because, Rekha would not move an inch before the gift was bought…I was forced to spend close to Rs 500 (according to my math… even Rs 100/- is close to Rs 500) on a gift for Sarat Chandran.

Initially, I was reluctant…but all of a sudden it struck me….Sarat works with SEBI in Mumbai and is a Charted Accountant (I think that`s what he did …)…and that means lots of money…so I should consider this only as an investment.

Though I was not sure..if Sarat would be able to make it to my daughter`s marriage (yeah…Rekha wants a daughter so that` she can dress her up in all kinds of cool clothes and put on loads of make up…I want a boy so that I could make him Serena Williams and earn money)…I still decided to buy him a gift.

Rekha and I went to Odyssey, Adayar, Chennai….its not a to-die-for kind of place. But Odyssey would do for some old hat…whom you have not spoken to for ten years…and all of a sudden are forced to buy a marriage gift because he remembered your permanent address (now you know why I hate giving permanent addresses).

I hope he doesn`t read this….and if he does…I hope he has a sense of humour.

The problem with gifts is…they are surrounded by other gifts. So Rekha tells me…

“You know, it is seven months since we married.”

“Yes. September 10, 2004, wasn`t it?”

“No…stupid…it was September 8, 2004.”

(I remember Sept 10, coz that was the first day of our honeymoon trip)

“Oh yeah…how could I forget…” my voice trails off.

“And you are yet to buy me a gift…so bad of you.” By now, her tone has changed…she is not the domineering wife who I am scared of. Instead, she is the gentle pet that wraps itself around me.

“Yes…so bad on my part. What is it that you would want now – you name it and you get it.”

I realize my mistake the moment the words escape my lips…but there is no Control Z (undo) in real life and I just wait for her reply.

She thinks hard…and I know she is looking at all the gifts on the showcase…and is not impressed by any. It takes her a full one minute before she replies…

“Nah…I don`t want to be asking for any gift. It should be spontaneous. Maybe, when we go to LifeStyle you can be spontaneous in your gifting and not wait for me to ask.”

As always I was check-mated. Now, Lifestyle is a die-for-place…and everything is at least 20% more costly that it is outside. I don`t say anything.

Soon we buy a gift for Sarat. As for the gift for Rekha…that will have to wait for another day. Whoever said Die Another Day….

Warning: This movie is like LOC (remember the four hour movie?) and only the characters would be introduced in the pre-interval session.

Rekha and Rajan love each other very much. And because, Rajan loves his wife a little bit more than that required for a safe and stable day-to-day existence, he agrees to visit her parents for the Malayali New Year – Vishu.

Tickets are booked, and bags are packed. Actually, the packing is done by Rekha because whenever we visit Kerala, the onus of the trip is on Rekha. When it is Madurai…Rekha chills out and the onus shifts to Rajan. Note: I don`t take a lungi because I have this 9-month old dream of soiling my father-in-law`s lungi. For all those angrezis, who come to my Blog thrice, every day, a lungi is something of a man`s sari but without a blouse.

We board the S3, second class compartment of Mangalore Mail at 8.25 p.m. on the 12th of April. With half of my mallu friends boarding the same train, I had to really make an effort to gel into the crowd and avoid being sighted. Before marriage I would have traveled by air at least eight times (ok…make it four…and no I don`t figure in Jet Airways frequent flyers list). But after marriage…I am have been grounded. You probably think being grounded is ok, as long as you have your luggage with you. I kind of disagree. Perhaps, because my luggage can talk and it has a name too – Rekha.

There are two advantages of going by the second class – first, you can expect mercy-dowry. It is something like mercy-killing…wherein the in-laws give you dowry out of mercy on your financial state. Second, your father-in-law won`t ask you to lend him some money to sponsor his drinking habits.

Half way through, I know I am in Kerala. I can see red flags all over …and I also fail to register the language. We also see some Tea-making universities, churning out tea-experts. No wonder, all tea-shops in India are taken over by the malayalis.

My doting father-in-law came to the station to pick us up. Now, I am not trying to pull his leg…but because he never learnt to ride a bi-cycle, he never bought a bike…and since he never rode a bike…he never understood the way the signals work and hence never bought a car. Thanks to the day (October 18, 1951 to be precise) when he refused to learn bi-cycle riding…he brought along a taxi (white ambassador) to pick us up. Pity him or pity us…but the next two hours were spent in shopping. He wanted to by a dress for his grandson, baniyan for himself and fish for us. Guess, he was saving taxi money.

We would eventually reach the house. For a moment, I thought Rekha`s mom was not like her father…instead was good. That was not to be, when I realized for everything good that I said about the house, Rekha or her…I would get a glass of Tang. So much so, now I am addicted to it. Over the next few days, my ‘Pavlovian’ mother-in-law shifted to mangoes. Probably because the Tang tin got over. I had always known that Rekha`s mother had a Military background (four of her brothers are ex-Indian Navy men, now minting money in Merchant Navy) and that is why I did not question the beret (military cap) she had on her head. Later I would come to know that it was a dyed mop of hair on her head. It seems, she did not believe in excess make up…hence only partly indulged in it.

In my first hour itself, I met Achu – a eight class boy student…only half as tall as I am. You know how tall I am..don`t you? Though I never liked baby monsters, especially ones that were small and walked on two legs…but I could not express myself. I was forced to act as if I loved the child. The problem was…the kid got a liking to me. For the next four days we were like shit and fly. I, the shit..and he the fly. As luck would have it, there was a historical fair happening nearby and I had to take Achu. He cost me Rs 400/- only plus the taxes. Later, I would come to know that I was wrong…it was not an historical fair. It seems the people were historically backward.

I also happened to meet Pinky – a class XI student. I had to talk amino acids and peptide bonds to her. She says she doesn`t know what she wants to become in life. I try to prompt her: “Mother?” I ask. “No, a social worker,” she shoots back. And I thought all malayali girls wanted to become nurses! She doesn`t know that her state has a Chief Minister and his name doesn`t matters. She thinks elephants are actually big pigs with longer noses. And as proof, she asks me to check out their tails…small and rolled over. It is another thing that in the process, I learn elephant shit is good for human digestion (by swallowing some). She loves green mangoes…and forces me to eat at least one a day. Luckily, I am not forced to spend any money on her. But she did say she liked some place called Vega land nearby (I think some kind of a Disney Land).

The last character I met was Major Karunakaran. Quite a revelation. He is 85 years old…and still picking. Very picky about anything he sees, talks or listens. He likes me because I happen to have a military background. I maintain status quo. All those Tom Clancy novels I read come to my rescue…in the end I guess I overdo it…for this Major starts thinking I am an Army Colonel. Or it was his amnesia? Either ways I am happy because he tells me that my father-in-law used to piss in bed till he was ten years old. Now, that`s some handle I can use!

Post-interval session tomorrow.

Rekha and I are back from Vishu. It was amazing fun (Rekha is standing next to me even as I type this). Very shortly, we will be releasing a movie called ‘Vishu Visit`. Here are the details of the movie –

Cast:
JV Rajan as son-in-law
Rekha Rajan as daughter
Chandrashekaran Nair as father-in-law
Shantha Chandrashekaran as mother-in-law
Achu and Pinky as neighboring relative-kids
Major Karunakaran (real-life uncle to Rekha) as 85-year-old retired Army Major, who adores the son-in-law

Settings: A 85 year old house in a gulf-money inflated settlement called Cherrukunnu, in Kannur District of Kerala. The house also has five mango trees, three guava trees, 15+ coconut trees and numerous other flora (and fauna like frogs, snakes, caterpillars, earthworms, my father-in-law etc).

Critical Acclaim: Rajan and Rekha compliment each other`s acting prowess in the movie. Rekha`s is floored by Rajan`s ability to get under the skin of the son-in-law character and act out the four days. So much so, the rest of the cast spent most of their time on the sets, adoring Rajan. Rekha in turn, has done her job pretty well. Rajan has been nominated for the Oscars in the ‘Best Actor` category while Rekha has been nominated in the ‘Supporting Actress` category.

The pre – interval story of this movie will be up on the blog by 6 p.m. IST

Ever tried putting ‘i` into the team? I would not recommend. Why don`t you try for yourself and see?

Anyways…first thing first….I am off.

Step 1. Boil some water.
Step 2. Skim over the directions (in case you forget necessary ingredients such as water or heat).
Step 3. Dip your finger in. If it hurts like a bitch, it`s ready for more ingredients.

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