(DISCLAIMER 1 – Sorry dear readers, from this point onwards Jay and Veeru will be called by their original respective nicks – Vizz and Bunny. Why you may ask, b’coz we both are tired entertaining readers with adventures and comical extracts of our worthless life in this even worthless city – its time to munch into some Reality Bytes)
6 days in Macha Land, Vizz and Bunny have been loaded with a shit load of problems.
The house hunt was getting on our nerves, to top it the hotel that we were staying in has asked them to vacate as there was some stupid advance reservation for a WEDDING. Having scanned the entire city we finally land up in a temporary guest house paying daily rentals. But the guest house is in the city which is like 12 kms from office (in Chennai terms – that means a 45 – 60 minutes ride).
Still trying to fathom the depth of the pothole that we have been flushed into, we just decided to take a ride towards a nearby eatery for some dinner (with the kind of expenses we are both going through, our dinner and lunch is now equivalent to our erstwhile breakfasts). So while taking a ride, we stopped at a signal for taking a left (in our part of the country, good mannered civic citizens stop at signal even when there is a FREE LEFT TURN). So as soon as the signal opened, we started to drift with the traffic (yes there is traffic in Chennai city at any given point during the day on any given day during the week, on any given week during the month., in any given month during the year, in any given year in the decade and finally in any given decade in the century)
As we were continuing to drift at a mundane pace, I could a see a black lamb following me on a government vehicle. The lamb was wearing white shirt and khaki trousers and a blue cap, his bike was white in color. At an outset, the lamb did resemble a traffic cop in my hometown. But as we both knew we never jumped any signals or broke any speed rule, we continued with our slow and steady ride. The lamb continued to follow us till the next signal (yes yes, there are 2 signals at every 100 meters in this southern metropolis), and right at the signal put his bike across ours and asked us to stop (he could have just asked us to stop instead of this stupid stunt – I know it was a lamb, but in our part of the country we don’t mind even stopping for a lamb who is dressed in government uniforms). So we duefully stopped and looked at the lamb with great respect (just because it was dressed in a cop uniform). The lamb started bleating in a foreign language as soon as it saw us (luckily my pal bunny is a very linguistic person and understands many types of bleats, moo’s, meows and bow-wows). So he started translating the bleats to me; here is how the conversation went:
Lamb – (with a shining black face) What great helmet sir?
Me – Oh thank you!! (Blushes a bit)
Lamb – What style sir, how much sir? Where you bought it sir?
Me –(Proudly) Ohh I got it from Bombay, for Rs2000. It’s a designer helmet, one of its kind – imported!
Lamb – Oh wow sir, what nice bike sir – new one? (while he was at his flattering best, a car just broke the RED signal in front of him)
Me – No no, its 3 years old, I have maintained it so well you see, not even a scratch.
Lamb – Ohh what nice biker jacket sir, good shoes too. You remind me of hindi film hero sir.
Me – (getting a bit irritated now, looking at my watch) – thanks for abruptly stopping us for the compliments SIR (ha museebat mein lamb ko bhi sir banana padta hai), but we are really getting late!!
Lamb – (bleating in a somewhat empathetic manner) – can I see your NOC please? (No license, or registration or insurance – just N.O.C)
Me – (with my mouth gaping open wildly , so wide that i could swallow a big mother elephant) – Bunny yeh kya ho raha hai yaar ?
Lamb – No NOC – Rs 1000 fine sir!!
Me – (mouth still wide open, it was a sense of Déjà vu B’cos this was the 4th uniformed animal that caught us in 6 days)
Lamb – how much minimum can you give sir (he was scratching his palms – which I assumed must be psoriasis or some rashes on his palm. But my wise friend bunny interpreted the obscene gesture saying that this means he is asking for a bribe to get away with it)
Me – (with a look on my face that I was tempted to cut this lambs throat – hallal ishtyle, and making tasty mutton biryani out of it) sir, why everyday you have to catch us for NOC – we have all papers in place. [while I was talking to the lamb, 3 guys zoomed by at a speed that seemed well beyond 80km/hr, with silencers and modifications which need NOC too and without helmets, but the lamb did not even give them a second glance – for one: the lamb was too lazy and slow to catch up, for second: lamb already had 2 BAKRAS ready to be minced, for three (most imp): the 3 bikes were TN registered]
Lamb – sir give atleast 500 minimum sir (his style was worse than the old beggar woman whom I threw a coin to at the beach last night)
Me – (Looking at bunny with contempt and anger) – kaha fas gaye yaar, is bhikari ko ab kitna dalna hai?
Bunny – jabse aaye hai waise bhi donation box hi ban gaye hai, dal de so-doso!! (just as we were having this conversation, 3 guys went triple seat on a kinetic, from right next to the lamb)
Me – (again looking at the lamb with a surrendering look – I wanted to shout SIR PLEASE LET US LIV A FREE LIFE IN OUR OWN COUNTRY, but all I said was) Sir I will give you 100 sir
Lamb – No No No No, fine is 1000 bucks, you look like guys from good and respected famiiesszzzz. Ok not yours not mine, give me 200 bucks
Me – (mouth again wide open ) Bunny, I don’t have 200 change on me, have a 500 ka note. If this ‘mary had a little lamb’ fella sees that, he would keep it all.
Lamb – (Inspite of not understanding our human language, he proactively said) I saw you have a 500 hundred note in your wallet sir, when you showed me license sir, do not worry sir (I wanted to tell that lamb ass to stop calling me SIR – I never slept with the queen of England – for christs sake), I have change with me sir – here take 300 and give me 500 (with a smirkish smile which showed all his 28.5 teeth which seemed to be not brushed from his milk tooth days).
Me – (frowning contemptuously at the lamb, removed the 500 note and banged it on his hand) Here Mr Lamb, buy sweets with this for your children and may they have as wonderful 28.5 teeth like yours.
Lamb – (pocketing the 500 note, getting back on his white motorbike bid us goodbye) – Have a safe journey boys, and take care.
Just then I saw a falling star and made an instant wish – the lamb had just crossed 20 meters - a safe distance from the mishap, when a lightning struck his bike and the lamb was converted into a lamb roast. As if things were not enough, a passing trailer ran over the roast lamb turning it into a lamb steak – (medium done). “Serves him good” I told bunny while we watched the street dogs feeding on the delicious dinner on the road.
Atlast we finally set off from that cursed corner and continued our stride towards the eatery singing “Yeh dosti” from Sholay.


