Small talk

Day 1

Man 1: Hi
Man 2: Hello
Man 1: How are you?
Man 2: I am fine. How are you?
Man 1: I am good.
Man 2: How is your wife?
Man 1: She is doing ok. What about your wife?
Man 2: She is fine too.
Man 1: How are your kids?
Man 2: They are having fun. What about yours?
Man 1: Oh! They are very naughty.
Man 2: How is you mother?
Man 1: She is a little ill. How is your mother doing?
Man 2: She is very healthy. See you tomorrow.
Man 1: Yes. Catch you tomorrow.

Day 2

Man 1: Hi
Man 2: Hello
Man 1: How are you?
Man 2: I am fine. How are you?
Man 1: I am good.
Man 2: How is your wife?
Man 1: She is doing ok. What about your wife?
Man 2: She is fine too.
Man 1: How are your kids?
Man 2: They are having fun. What about yours?
Man 1: Oh! They are very naughty.
Man 2: How is you mother?
Man 1: She committed suicide yesterday. But I think it is a murder. How is you mother?
Man 2: Oh! She is missing since yesterday. The last time she went missing like this, she had killed an old woman. You know what? Let us not talk about the mothers anymore. See you tomorrow.
Man 1: Yes. Catch you tomorrow.

Day 3

Man 1: Hi
Man 2: Hello
Man 1: How are you?
Man 2: I am fine. How are you?
Man 1: I am good.
Man 2: How is your wife?
Man 1: She is doing ok. What about your wife?
Man 2: She is fine too.
Man 1: How are your kids?
Man 2: Well, I found my son doping and my daughter ran away with a junkie. How are your kids?
Man 1: What can I say? My son ran away with a girl whose brother is a junkie.
Man 2: You know what? Let us not talk about our children anymore. See you tomorrow.
Man 1: Yes. Catch you tomorrow.


Day 4

Man 1: Hi
Man 2: Hello
Man 1: How are you?
Man 2: I am fine. How are you?
Man 1: I am good.
Man 2: How is your wife?
Man 1: I heard she is sleeping around with someone else. How is your wife?
Man 2: I don’t like her at all. I am having an affair with the wife of someone in our office.
Man 1: You know what? Let us not talk about our wives anymore. See you tomorrow.
Man 2: Yes. Catch you tomorrow.

Day 5

Man 1: Hi
Man 2: Hello
Man 1: How are you?
Man 2: Not so good. I heard someone junior to me is getting promoted above me. How are you?
Man 1: Excellent. I am getting promoted. See you tomorrow.
Man 2: Yes. Catch you tomorrow.

Day 6

Man 1: Hi
Man 2: Hello. See you tomorrow.
Man 1: Yes. Catch you tomorrow.

The real estate broker

(The door of an apartment opens…A man, his wife and a real estate broker walk in)

Wife: (To husband) Ah! Now, this is nice. Finally we get to see a good apartment.

Broker: See, I told you sir that madam will like this one. Anyone would fall in love with this apartment.

Man: Yes, it does look good…

Broker: Sir you have not seen anything yet. Let us go inside.

(All three of them move into the first bedroom)

Broker: Sir, this is the kid’s bedroom…

Wife: (To husband) This is quite spacious. Till the time we have kids, we can use this as the study…

Broker: Tut tut tut. Oh that’s so sad. Such a nice room will be full of books? You know what? You are in luck. (Shouts) Sunny!!! Radha!!! (Two kids come running in) Here you go. These are my kids. They can stay here till you decide to have kids of your own…

Man: Hahaha. You are indeed a good salesman. You know how to make your customer laugh…

Broker: (With a serious tone) I am serious sir. These children are no trouble at all and they come free of cost with this apartment.

Wife: You are joking right…

Broker: No madam. Mr. Gupta, from downstairs, had taken a similar deal last year. Now they have their own kids and so Sunny and Radha have to move out. Look at it this way. You will get good parental practice before your own kids arrive…

Wife: But why aren’t your kids staying with you?...

Broker: To cut a long story short…there is no reason…

Wife: What do you mean “there is no reason”?...

Broker: I mean, we just didn’t click…

Wife: Didn’t click? They are your kids for god’s sake, not your wife or girlfriend…

Broker: If you don’t want to keep the kids, just say so. Let me show you the rest of the flat…

Man: Yes, that would be much better. I hope your wife doesn’t come free with the guest room…

Broker: Of course not. She comes with the Master bedroom and for 10% of the house cost…

Wife: How cheap can you be?...

Broker: Well, our real estate agency does not promise the cheapest services in Bangalore for no reason…
Man: Can you please just show us the house? If we didn’t like the apartment so much, we would have been out of here by now…

Broker: Sure sir. Right this way please. This is the master bed room. And as with the rest of the house, it is also fitted with the latest model of closed circuit cameras. The security downstairs can always keep a watch on what is happening in all the rooms. So secure, I tell you…

Wife: Have you ever heard of something called Privacy?

Broker: Oh sure madam. We can take care of that. I will ask the electrician to take the cameras out of the common bathroom…

Man: (With sarcasm) That’s so considerate of you. Any other “special benefits” which you want to share with us?

Broker: Of course sir. There are so many advantages for buying this house. There are no monthly maintenance charges in this society…

Man: (With sarcasm) You mean it is included in the total cost?...

Broker: No sir. No maintenance payments at all. We believe in “Self service”…

Man: What do you mean?...

Broker: Simple. You will have to be the security guard for any one day of the week and madam needs to sweep and clean all 10 floors of the apartment once a week. Wouldn’t you feel patriotic after contributing to the society this way?

Wife: (With sarcasm) Sure, I would. And we will also stay healthy…

Broker: Madam is really intelligent. And I am sure she will agree to the society’s 9 pm deadline to reach home every day or stay wherever you are overnight. They hate western culture seeping into our lives.

Man: But…

Broker: I know what you are thinking. Rules need to be consistent. And the society has made sure they are. Formal clothes are compulsory to use the gym and swimming pool. If you use Khadi, all the more better...So can we make the deal?...

Man: Thanks but no thanks…

(Man and wife start walking out)

Broker: Sir, you will not find a better apartment. So much freedom at such a low cost. Madam?...

Divine intervention

(News show music plays…)

News anchor 1: Good evening. I am Praveen Mehta.

News anchor 2: And I am Shruti Rao. Here is a look at today’s top stories…

Mr. VIP Singh, India’s ex Prime Minister, passes away…Police register a suicide case.

The road that spares no one…The US president faces some honk music.

Miracles all the way…God’s decide to steal the limelight.

News anchor 1: Ex India PM Mr. VIP Singh was found dead at the residence of co-party member Mr. Yash Zutsi. Delhi Police has recovered the suicide note which said “He is killing me for the seat…somebody save me”. Crime scene analysts have confirmed that in the note, he was referring to, and I quote, “Him, killing his other schizophrenic self” and the referred seat is, I quote again, “The seat in heaven which all of us desire, after we die”. The party spokesperson told news agencies that the “seat” has nothing to do with the election seat, which was a cause of rivalry between Mr. VIP and Mr. Yash.

News anchor 2: US President George Push’s India tour came to a 2 hour braking halt on the infamous Hosur Road in Bangalore. He was on his way to a BPO company, to chat with his kids through a call center agent’s calling apparatus. Sources in the US Embassy have informed us that the US President experienced mental numbness and deafening in the right ear because of the honking. The President has approved an interest free loan of $100 million for development of Indian roads. However, insider sources tell us that the numbing of the President’s brain is actually due to excessive exposure to violent video games like “Shave off Osama’s beard” and “Smoke out Saddam”. The US officials, however, declined to comment.

News anchor 1: Now for some interesting news. I believe in miracles! Do you? Well…reports of people claiming to have witnessed a miracle poured in throughout the day from various parts of the country. We will now go to our correspondents across the nation to find out more about this Divine intervention. Shilpa, what do you have for us?

(Screen switch to Correspondent)

Shilpa: Hello Praveen. I am standing in front of the Koki Cola factory in Vikroli. At about 3 pm today, the Koki Cola India CEO, Mr. Keshav Kulkarni, called an urgent press conference and made this statement…

(Screen switch to Press conference)

Keshav Kulkarni: Ladies and Gentlemen, today I am going to give you proof, which will put to rest, all the allegations on Koki Cola related to excessive use of pesticides in our drinks. Please look at the Ganesha idol carefully.

(Keshav Kulkarni pours a teaspoonful of Koki Cola from a bottle and places it at the Ganesha Idol’s mouth…The idol drinks all of it).

As you can see ladies and gentlemen, the Gods have accepted our drink and clearly nobody can challenge the purity and holiness of our drink anymore.

(Screen switch to Correspondent)

Shilpa: After this statement was released, hordes of devotees thronged the Koki Cola premises to witness the miracle.

(Screen switch to a devotee)

Devotee 1: Jee maine 4 baje yeh khabar suni ki Ganeshji Koki Cola pee rahe hain. Maine jaldi se ek bottle Cola khareeda aur yahan aa gaya. Maine apne haathon se Ganeshji ko Cola pilaya aur prasad ke roop mein maine aur meri family ne bhi piya. Jee hamara to jeena dhanya ho gaya.

Devotee 2: Maine news channel pe dekha ki Ganpati bappa cola pee rahe the. Ghar pe 1 mahine puraani Popsi padi thi jo koi nahin pee raha tha. Mein who Popsi uthake yaha aa gayee. Par gate pe inhone Popsi andar le jaane nahin diya. Unhone kaha ki jaake Koki Cola leke aao. Phir mein bhaag kar market se Koki Cola laayee aur bhagwaan ko chadhaya.

(Screen switch to Correspondent)

Shilpa: As you can see, people are still queuing up to offer their share of Cola to the Lord. Rival Popsi issued a statement later which was similar and yet different from the one from Koki Cola. Popsi argued that their drink is more pure as Lord Indra’s idol has accepted it and who could be a better judge of liquids than the God of rain himself. Back to you Praveen.

(Screen switch to news studio)

News anchor 1: Thank you Shilpa. Our New Delhi correspondent Siddhartha has been tracking reactions to this “Colamrut” story. Siddhartha…

(Screen switch to Correspondent)

Siddhartha: Hi. I have with me the Chairman of the Indian Environment Organization, Ms Pragati Unyal. The IEO had launched a protest against cola companies a month back, for excessive amount of pesticides in the drinks. Let us hear what she has to say after today’s developments.

Pragati Unyal: Well, first we would like to apologize to the Indian citizens for misleading them on the cola pesticide controversy. We are withdrawing our cola case from court. However, it has come to our notice that Anmul milk was rejected by Gods across India, thereby deeming it unhealthy for consumption. Our research shows that the milk has excessive cream content, which if consumed in quantities of only 10 litres a day, can cause diarrhea. Thus we are launching a fresh case against Anmul...

Siddhartha: Sorry to interrupt you Ms. Pragati. We have just been joined by the Union Health Minster, Mr. Balwaan Singh. Sir, your comments on the issue.

Balwan Singh: I have already ordered 250 bottles each of Koki Cola and Popsi for all the MLAs in parliament. We are also passing a bill to fill water tanks in schools, colleges and other public and religious places with colas. I also had a chat with the Minister for Education to include this event as a chapter in the history text book.

Siddhartha: Thank you Mr. Balwaan and Ms. Pragati. So Praveen, as you can see, scientific and political wings of our country have also accepted this phenomenon as a miracle. With cameraperson Shashi Dubey, this is Siddhartha Munshi reporting from New Delhi. Back to the studios.

(Screen switch to news studio)

News anchor 2: In another miraculous event in the Navi Mumbai area, people claim to have received clean and potable water from the municipality taps after 47 years. Today was clearly a day where the God’s decided to steal the limelight.

New anchor 1: If you have witnessed a miracle yourself, SMS “your name, space, the miracle” and send it to 0000. That’s about it in this edition of Newshour. Keep watching NewsTV. Good night.

Indian Idle

(Music plays…)

Host: Hello everyone and welcome to the Bangalore auditions of Indian Idle. Our idle judges have been in the building for almost 5 hours now, as they have no work themselves. We will be starting the show in just a moment. But first, let us ask some participants what they feel about the show. (Host goes to one of the participants…) Hi, what is your name?

Participant: I am Velankani, but my friends call me Vela. I will definitely become the first Indian idle. My papa has always told me that I am good for nothing...

Host: Sure…your dad must be so proud right now. (Goes to another participant) So, what makes you think you will become Indian Idle?…

Participant: Actually sir, I have read and memorized Kabhijeet Saawant’s book “How to become Idle in 10 days”. What more proof do you want that I am completely idle in life?...

Host: (Towards the camera) A truly strong contender here friends…Let us move on… (Moves to another participant)…So, what will you do with all the money if you become Indian Idle?...

Participant: (Very serious tone…almost about to cry) Sir, our village has been neglected by the Government for such a long time. There is no place in the village where all the idle people can spend their time. So, with the money I will build a huge community hall with no ceiling, where everyone, who has no work, can dream or simply stare into space to pass time.

Host: (Towards the camera) Now, that is what I call a true Idle. We will be right back to Indian Idle auditions after this long break…Please go somewhere else and do some work, you idle people…

(Music plays…)

Commercial: (Tele-products)
Peter: Hello Mike.

Mike: Hello Peter. How are you?

Peter: As busy as ever. It was so difficult to take time out for this show.

Mike: I completely understand Peter. Even I was like you just a month back. But that was
before I was introduced to Idle-man 5.0…

Peter: Idle-man 5.0?...

Mike: Yes Peter, Idle-man 5.0. Haven’t you always wanted to sit in that couch and do nothing at all?...

Peter: Yes absolutely…
Mike: Do you feel left out when people around you discuss and dissect all TV programs?

Peter: Always…

Mike: Well, what does that tell you?

Peter: I am too busy?...

Mike: Yes…you don’t spend enough time being idle…Idle-man 5.0 is a revolutionary product which will change your life. You know why it is named 5.0? (Peter responds negatively). We guarantee that your life will switch from 5th gear to a halt in one month…Isn’t it exciting? Let us listen to some people who have used this product…

Person: I am Adam Eve. I used to be the CFO of Micro-hard…always in office or on the phone or with the laptop. I had no time for my family or myself. About 2 months back someone told me about Idle-man 5.0. Initially, I did not have the time to even think about it. Last Christmas, I received Idle-man as a gift from a person, who I considered to my worst enemy. I started using the product and in a week my life started changing. I was fired from my job. In another week the bank took away everything I owned except for the TV and the couch. And just days later my wife and kids left me. Now I have all the time in the world to be with myself, my TV and my couch. Life has never been better.

Announcer: Are you tired of working? Do you want to vile away all your time doing nothing? Do you always dream of being idle for as long as you live? If yes, then bring home the Idle-man 5.0 today. Just 10 minutes everyday on the Idle-man will make you good for nothing. If you order right now, you will be charged 100$ extra because you are making this decision too fast. Idle people would ponder for days to make this decision. This is not all. We are giving away a 29” TV and a leather couch for free. Start being idle today with the Idle-man 5.0…Take your own sweet time in ordering…

(Indian Idle music plays…)

Host: Welcome back to Indian Idle. Alas, this break was too long a time for all the idles and the judges to sit and actually think about doing something. All of them have gone home and I am headed the same way. Good bye and good night.

The IVR

(Man picks up phone…Dials number)

IVR: Welcome to Lena Bank. Please dial the required extension or press star for assistance.

(Man presses star)

IVR: Tamil ku Onnu dial pannunga…Kannadadille erudu dial madire...Malayalamil parayam muunu dial cheyyum...Punjabi vich gallan naal chaar dial karaan si…(Goes on for other languages…Man is frustrated)…For English…(Man gives satisfactory sigh)…dial 3*#05##*.

(Man is perplexed…Tries to press a combination for English but gets it wrong)

IVR: Sorry. That is an invalid entry. Tamil ku Onnu dial pannunga…Kannadadille erudu dial madire...Malayalamil parayam muunu dial cheyyum...Punjabi vich gallan naal chaar dial karaan si…(Man goes and gets a pen and paper…)…For English…(Man notes down)…dial 3*#05##*.

(Man looks carefully at the piece of paper and slowly dials the number 3..*..#..0..5..#..)

IVR: Sorry…You took too long to respond… Tamil ku Onnu dial pannunga…Kannadadille erudu dial madire...

(Man quickly dials the English combination…There is a deafening silence)

IVR: You have selected English…(Man gives triumphant punch in the air). Angrez chale gaye…aulad chod gaye…

Man: Hello?...

IVR: Press 1 for Credit Card enquiry…Press 2 for Savings account enquiry…

(Man presses 2)

IVR: Please enter your 10 digit account number…

(Man enters his account number)

IVR: Please enter your 4 digit year of birth…

(Man enters 1980)

IVR: Please state your first name…

Man: Parvat

IVR: Did you say “Pervert”? If Yes, Press 1. If No, Press 0 and state your first name again.

Man: (Frustrated yet careful) Par..vat

IVR: Did you say “Parvat”? If Yes, Press 1. If No, Press 0 and state your first name again.

(Man presses 1)
IVR: Mr. Pervert, as on 23rd August, 2006, your age is 26 years and account balance is 3,450 rupees and 50 paise. Your account balance is lower than 99% of our customers in your age group. I am sure you are unattached and not likely to date anyone in the near future. Infact, I talk to more girls than you do.

To know more gory details about your account, Press 1…
To desperately get a credit card or personal loan to improve your financial status, Press 2…
To help us by closing your account, Press 3…
To get career tips Scream “I want a new job”…
To find out about illegal ways to make money, call Chappantikli at 9886758493…
To disconnect, Press star

(Man presses star in anger)

IVR: You don’t have to press “star” to disconnect, you moron. Your IQ justifies your bank balance. Put the phone down loser, and lose this number.

(IVR Disconnects...Man stares at the receiver in amazement…)

Superman outsourced

Superman's job was outsourced to India. With nothing to do in US, he has come to India to work.
Mr. Chiranjiv Omi is the trade minister of India
Jai Shriram is a political party leader. His party prides Indian culture and hates western influence on the Indian society.

Superman: (Waiting outside the Civil Aviation minister office and contemplating to himself) “Up, up and away…for 20000$ less. I should just go back to Krypton and start my own venture. I’ll call it Earth Tours and Travels…”

Receptionist: Sir, you can go in now. Mr. Omi is free. And by the way, where did you buy those sexy stretch trousers from? I would love to own a pair.

Superman: This one? Oh! I got this one right here…from Fashion Street. They outsourced clothes manufacturing during Christopher’s time itself, you know.

(Superman walks into the office. Mr. Jai Shriram is sitting opposite Mr. Omi.)

Mr. Omi: Good morning Mr. Superman. How are you?

Superman: Hello Mr. Omi…I am fine. Just some dizziness...

Mr. Omi: Oh is it? Troubled by Jetlag?

Superman: No Sir. I guess I am not used to flying in India…banged into 3 telephone poles and got entangled into an electric supply line before landing straight into a pothole next to a slum…

Jai Shriram: Omi ji, this is why I hate these firangs. They see only 4Ps in India – Poles, Potholes, Power…the lack of it actually…and Poverty. I told you we can give this job to our He-man Dharminder sahib…

Mr. Omi: Pardon me for his comments Mr. Superman. Please meet Mr. Jai Shriram. He is the leader of a political party called Rang De Kesariya. The party owns 50% stake in the BPO which bought your company.

Superman: Hello Mr. Shriram. It is a pleasure meeting you.

Jai Shriram: Jai Shri Ram, Mr. Superman…

Superman: Oh I am sorry. I didn’t know you like to be addressed by your full name Sir…

Jai Shriram: No, no…“Jai Shri Ram” is also a way of saying “Good Morning” here Mr. Superman. It is also our party’s motto, slogan and election campaign promise.

Mr. Omi: Gentlemen, sorry to interrupt, but I think we should get to work now. Mr. Superman, we will start with you. What are your expectations from your role in India?

Superman: Well…I am sorry…I haven’t ever thought about this over the years. I just kept going after the villains without contemplating if that is what I really wanted to do in life. But now that you ask me…Let me think. (Pause) First and foremost I want to rid India of corruption in all departments. Secondly, I want to improve infrastructural facilities and finally, I want to solve the Kashmir issue by talking to both sides. And yes…I really won’t mind if an odd Bollywood movie offer comes my way!

Mr. Omi: Not even 2 hours in India and you are already talking like a politician, Mr. Superman. (Everyone laughs) What can I say? We had slightly different plans for you. Shriram ji would you like to explain?

Jai Shriram: Why not? Look Mr. Superman. There are already many people trying and failing at what you want to achieve. We don’t want to waste your superpowers. Infact we want to put you to the best possible use for Indian society.

Superman: That sounds great. What will be my responsibilities?

Jai Shriram: For the first six months, Mr. Superman, you will be on probation...

Superman: On probation? What about all my years of experience in the sky?

Mr. Omi: I am afraid flying in the US sky doesn’t count as relevant work experience in India. So all we want is that you prove yourself at basic tasks before we move you on to bigger responsibilities.

Superman: Go on…

Jai Shriram: You will begin with a campaign to save fuel. We intend to use you to propel all airplanes which are used by our party members to commute domestically. Analysts say that we will save over 500,000 litres of aviation fuel this way…

Superman: So you are saying I switch from a world saving role to being a chauffeur?

Mr. Omi: Look at it this way. If you succeed at this task, you will be promoted to propel commercial flights to their destinations. We will then use State transport buses instead of Boeings to fly passengers. So much Government money will be saved, which will then be used for social betterment.

Jai Shriram: Indian people are happy. Mr. Omi is happy. I am happy. Shriram ji is happy.

Superman: Why do u refer to yourself twice?

Jai Shriram: Arey. Shriram ji is also a great Indian God. Our ultimate goal is to make him happy.

Superman: Pardon me again for my ignorance. (PAUSE) Fine, I agree with you till now. But will I be flying buses all my life?

Jai Shriram: Of course not. After we have saved enough fuel to last us for 100 years, you will be honored with a post in the Indian Air Force…

Superman: Now that’s something exciting. The Indian Air Force! “Air Chief Marshal Superman”. I will strategize air attacks on enemies, lead air force jets in the event of a war and win accolades…

Mr. Omi: Actually Mr. Superman, we were thinking more in lines of you propelling MIG-21s and Sukhois. You will prevent the death of so many MIG pilots in crashes. Needless to say Shriram ji will be happy again.

Superman: Yes, absolutely. If lives are saved, even Jesus Christ will be happy …not only Shriramji…

Mr. Omi: I think I confused you. I was referring to our Shriram ji. His son is a MIG pilot in the Air Force.

Jai Shriram: I am pleased that you like what we have proposed. But before we sign the contract, I want to make you aware of some code of conduct that you will have to follow when you work for our company.

Superman: Sure sir…Go ahead. I want to be a “code of conduct” role model to all Indian youngsters…

Jai Shriram: COC #1 – No underwear over pants: Get rid of it or wear it inside. We don’t want opposition party to impose vulgarity allegations on us…

Superman: But sir, that’s the way I have been all these years…

Jai Shriram: If you are really uncomfortable with this, you could consider wearing boxers instead of a frenchie. That’s the best I can do. Also, boxers will also give you more flight control…

Superman: I don’t believe this…

Jai Shriram: COC #2 – You will change your uniform colour from blue to saffron…

Superman: Why saffron? You might as well change it to pink. That way I will be able to validate the rumors of me being gay…

Jai Shriram: COC #3 – You will have to take off your shoes whenever you fly over a temple…

Superman: I think I will just fly with naked feet from now on…

Jai Shriram: And finally COC #4 – You would be aware that majority of the Indian population speaks only Hindi. So, for the benefit of the society at large, you will be called “Shaktiman” starting today.

Superman: Shaktiman? What the hell does that mean?

Mr. Omi: “Power man”. We gave 10 million $ to a brand consultancy for this name change exercise. And all of us are very pleased with the result…

Superman: But there is already a superhero called Power Man in the US. Weren’t there any copyright/trademark issues?

Mr. Omi: Our name is in Hindi, Mr. Superman. No conflicts of interest whatsoever. And anyways Shriram ji’s BPO is planning to buy the company which owns Power Man. We need someone to push the trains too.

Superman: Huh…When do I start?

Jai Shriram: Haven’t you heard what a great Indian saint has said in a song…(Superman responds in a negative). ”Right here right now!”…Your new uniform is waiting in the adjacent room. My private jet is parked outside. You will be taking me to party headquarters in Mumbai…

(Superman goes out of the room singing “I am leaving on a jet plane”)

The Low cost airline

Hurry Maadu is an over achieving CEO who wants to reach Mumbai for a business meeting.

The check in person sits at the check in counter of “Butterfly” airlines at Bangalore airport. He is frustrated with passengers perennially complaining about delayed flights.

Hurry Maadu: (Comes in panting) Hi. I am sorry I am late. Here are my tickets.

Check in person: Good evening Sir. We regret to inform you that the flight A420 to Mumbai is an hour late.

Hurry Maadu: What? An hour late? I have to be in Mumbai for a meeting. (Frustrated) Have you guys ever taken off on time?

Check in person: Actually sir, we have data to prove that 98.2% of our flights are on time. I guess you always travel in the other 1.8% flights which are never on time. If you are so hassled, you should review the low cost airline travel policy of your company.

Hurry Maadu: Now, what kind of an airline do you people run here? Flights are not on time. And no courtesy whatsoever! On top of that you are giving me statistics? Let me tell you my friend, I make a living out of tweaking data so that it looks favorable and on most occasions, encouraging. So, instead of hiding the real data in fine print, you should try and change your company’s culture and value system. I think you need a CEO like me.

Check in person: Sure sir. And you need an executive like me. Let us switch roles and I am sure both companies will go bankrupt. By the way, how do you spell your name?

Hurry Maadu: Yes, I think you should just get on with your menial job. Write down. Hurry Madu. “H” for…

Check in person: Hazardous…

Hurry Maadu: Excuse me?…

Check in person: Hazardous…Are you carrying anything hazardous?

Hurry Maadu: I thought we were spelling out my name.

Check in person: Well, I suddenly recalled seeing your name in the papers. Weren’t you awarded the best Indian CEO for the year 2006?

Hurry Maadu: Well. Hmmm…

Check in person: Oh I remember now! It was the harassment case. So, how is your “colleague” doing now?

Hurry Maadu: He is fine…I mean, she…I mean, there was no harassment, so everything is ok. Can you give me my boarding pass please?

Check in person: Sure sir. Would you prefer a window, isle…or the cockpit seat?

Hurry Maadu: Cockpit seat? Now what in Kotler’s name is that?

Check in person: Sir, aren’t you accustomed to always be in “the lead”, “the chair” or “the hot seat” as one would call it?

Hurry Maadu: Well yes, but I am not trained to be a pilot for God’s sake. I am a CEO…

Check in person: How is it different?...

Hurry Maadu: Of course it is. I review company financials, take instant decisions, communicate it to the employees and make profits for my company…

Check in person: Even our pilot looks at numbers on the panel to navigate the plane, makes decisions to turn the joystick without ever consulting the passengers. Occasionally, he makes announcements about weather & altitude and finally puts the plane on auto pilot & presses the eject button when the plane is about to crash. Doesn’t all that sound familiar to you?

Hurry Maadu: Well, you can’t compare apples and oranges! Give me a window seat please.

Check in person: Here you go sir. (Hands over the boarding pass). Do you have any check in baggage?

Hurry Maadu: No, I just have my laptop with me. I hope I can take it as hand baggage.

Check in person: Sure sir. We’ll just have to check your hard disk space. A maximum of 10 GB of data is allowed on board.

Hurry Maadu: What? I have never heard of such a thing…

Check in person: We use ATRs on the Bangalore-Mumbai route, sir. They have limited capacity you see…

Hurry Maadu: So you want me to delete critical files so that I can board your stupid ATR? (Frustrated) You know what? I’ll check it in as cabin baggage. I don’t need to work on it anyways.

Check in person: As you wish sir! Would you like the “General” or “Secure” check-in of your laptop?

Hurry Maadu: I didn’t get you…

Check in person: The baggage in “General” check-in is sent by Indian Speed post and will reach you by day after tomorrow. Secure check-in would ensure you receive your laptop when you alight from the plane in Mumbai.

Hurry Maadu: You must be kidding me! What do you think I would want?

Check in person: I guess you would go for the “Secure” check-in considering the confidential & critical nature of your data…

Hurry Maadu: That wasn’t such a difficult choice, now…was it?

Check in person: Fine Sir. Here you go. Your laptop has been checked in. Will you prefer to pay by cash or card?

Hurry Maadu: Excuse me…

Check in person: Cash or credit card, Sir? From my experience you will bill it on your corporate card…

Hurry Maadu: Pay for what?...

Check in person: The Secure Check-in Sir. And since your company is our loyal customer, you get a 10% discount and 25% cash back offer in case your laptop is damaged…

Hurry Maadu: What the hell? Isn’t this paid for in the ticket? And what is your secure check-in if you can’t guarantee undamaged delivery?

Check in person: The ticket only covers the seat charges, sir. You could pay extra if you desire more leg space, increased angle of seat recline, emergency oxygen masks, water, snacks or prettier air hostesses (wink)…hope you are getting the picture sir?

Hurry Maadu: Well yes. I am indeed getting the picture. (Picks up mobile phone…Calls his secretary and asks her to book the most expensive ticket on another airline)
My dear friend, I want to get this ticket cancelled.

Check in person: I am sorry sir. We have a no cancellation policy. You could consider using this ticket to fly some other time.

Hurry Maadu: You know what. Keep your ticket, Cockpit seat and your secure check-in with you. Good bye and God Bless!

Check in person: Thank you for choosing to fly “Butterfly airlines”. We hope to serve you again soon. (To Himself) Thank God for cost cutting companies. (Wink)

Driving in the right lane - Chapter 2

French flies

I am 24 years old. I have spent at least 2500 hours of my life and about 50000 bucks of my dad’s hard earned money in the train – with an undying hope of meeting a pretty girl. I clearly remember the days when I had just put down the comic book and started to get aroused by the fairer sex and their vivid portrayal in Debonair. I used to pray for some girl to come flying out of the Playboy centerfold and into my train compartment every time I traveled. With no luck, I started toning down my prayer notes to read ‘any girl in the same bogey as me’ and ‘any girl in this train’ and finally ‘at least the same station?...Please!’. But as they say, if wishes were horses, I would be riding one today – pun intended.

I had assumed that the bad luck would go away with higher education. Apparently, it doesn’t. Here I was - an MBA, with a decent paying job and an air ticket which cost more than my total train cost till date. But, unfortunately, there were still no signs of life on planet Venus. All I could see is a few Mars inhabitants, who might have had the same hopes growing up as me, probably had made similar assumptions and may be now, were as disappointed as I was.

The shrill sound of crying, coming from a 2 year old infant broke the numbing silence in my head. And there she was. The angel, I was looking for all my life, was dressed in white and spoke in French. I knew then why it was called the language of love. She took the child from his mother’s arms and put him to sleep by making him feel cozy in her arms. Tears started rolling down from my eyes automatically, not because I was seeing a beautiful moment of magic being performed by the woman on a child, but in sheer hope that even I would be put to blissful sleep by her. I guess she didn’t even acknowledge my existence. In a few moments, her perfume started to fade as she moved away and shut the curtains on the doorway separating my isle from the staff seats. I realized then that girls are indeed from another world. They come close to you, make you fall in love with them by casting a magical spell and then walk back to their world and draw the curtains, leaving you to wipe your own tears. But we men never learn and start thinking of what went wrong and how we could strike gold with the next girl that comes our way. I did the same. “Could it have worked out better if I spoke French?”, I thought. My head didn’t waste any time to reply, “No! Now stop kidding yourself and sleep. At least avoid the jetlag.”

I woke up next morning at the sound of the flight captain making us aware of our coordinates. “We are cruising at an altitude of 50000 feet and traveling at about 500 mph”, he said. “The temperature outside is -35 degrees Celsius. We will be reaching Paris at 8:10 am local time which is about 2 hours away from now. We will be serving breakfast now. Enjoy your flight.”
“Enjoy the flight?”, I wondered. “How can I?” I could reach only one conclusion with all this information. “I need to keep my fingers crossed for 2 more hours and hope that the flight doesn’t hit a storm, or a pigeon for that matter. Because if it does, I would start falling from an altitude of 50000 feet and my death will be caused not by hitting the ground at a speed higher than 500 mph, but by hypothermia, setting in as I make my way down, freezing at a temperature of -35 degrees Celsius.” I was jealous of the guy next to me, who was snoring away, without any idea of the deadly possibilities this flight had on offer. “Ignorance”, I thought, “is bliss indeed”.

Thank God, breakfast was on its way. I could stop thinking about my imminent death only with the aroma of coffee, vermicelli upma and medu vadaa with sambaar. These South Indian delicacies were sharing the tray with their continental counterparts – croissant, brownie and orange juice. I am generally a fast eater. But on this occasion, I took my time to savor every scoop of vermicelli and each sambaar dip, coming to terms with the fact that after this meal I would enjoy an Indian breakfast in about 2 months time.

By the time I finished eating, we were only about an hour away from Paris, the land of love. I had a 4 hour waiting period at CDG for the connecting flight to JFK. “That should give me enough time to pass my judgment about the beauty of French women.”, I said to myself, “and may be even talk to a few”. I did doubt my Alliance Francaise credentials though.

“Bonjour Monsieur.”
“Bonjour Mademoiselle.”
“Cava?”
“Cava Bien Merci. Je mapelle Adarsh. Je suis Indian.”

These sentences, in this order, constituted my entire French vocabulary. Back in school, I was also taught ‘Je suis etudiante’ which meant ‘I am a student’. But till today, I haven’t been able to find the French equivalent of a ‘Business Consultant’. No wonder it is a tough job.

The Charles De Gaulle airport is a city in itself. I started laughing, thinking about the possible condition of the traffic plagued airport road, if an airport of such large dimensions existed in Bangalore. And with that I had already started missing my life in Bangalore and the frustrations that came with it. After killing time with a few episodes of South Park, I boarded the flight to New York. The same thoughts came back to me - only this time it was another air hostess, another flight captain doing his little presentation, and a different fair skinned neighbor, unaware of the risks of flying. “It is really a small world”, I thought. “Only the faces change. The roles remain the same.”

Driving in the right lane - Chapter 1

Virgin? Not anymore!

This wait was too long and unbearable. The thought of boarding the airplane was giving me an adrenaline rush. My folks gave me the customary blessings and unending advice on how to “stay out of trouble”. They were clearly concerned. Their image of America was marred by conversations with relatives, continuously bitching about food, culture - the lack of it all. Top that up with visuals of big breasted bikini clad women running on the beach (or on the streets, as far as they are concerned), and the resulting concoction is not too pleasing from where they stand. After all, I am their only single son.

The cab driver watched as I dragged myself and my luggage into the city cab. He didn’t care. It was just another day in his life, like the hundreds that had gone by, without anyone noticing but him. I dint have time to notice either. He accelerated the cab and I waved back at my parents as I got a few inches closer to the USA.

I had exactly 5 experiences at the Bangalore airport before this – all of them during domestic travel. Those couldn’t possibly do me any good here. “Can these people stop me from flying because I haven’t flown international before?”, I asked myself. I was carrying a suitcase, a large bag, a bag which was smaller than the large bag but larger than my laptop bag, the laptop bag and a suit inside a suit hanger. This pretty much covered everything I owned.

I put the suitcase and the large bag through the security x-ray machine. I wondered if the men behind the security machine thought of themselves as being psychics - looking at people’s luggage and having the ability to determine their past, present and future. Or as critics – comparing and commenting on people’s tastes in clothing, electronics and people. Or were they mere silent spectators like most of us - watching the birth of bags at one end of the belt, and their death at the other? “Now…that can’t be a boring job”, I said to myself as I started to walk towards the airline counter, thinking about things in people’s baggage which would make me laugh if I was behind the x-ray machine. “The ‘just-in-case’ air pillow put into the bag by a mother who still has the railways hangover…A pair of wigs, each of different color, owned by a 30 year old baldy who wants to date a few American women…The ‘Java bible’ carried by the software engineer who is too scared to leave home without it…And the harmless dildo?”. That did bring me a chuckle.

“Hello sir.”, said the airline agent, with a big smile on her face. I did not realize that I had reached the counter.

“Hi”, I replied with a smile of my own. Not that I had a very photogenic face or a beautiful smile. I just didn’t want her to know this is my first trip outside of India.
“Here is my ticket and passport. I have already checked in through the web.” I said with assertiveness hoping that she will buy my web-technology gimmick.

“Oh. That’s great sir. Ill just print your boarding pass then. Which bags are you going to check in sir?”

“This suitcase and large bag please…I will carry the small bag, the laptop bag and the suit as cabin baggage.”

“Sir, security rules allow you to carry only 2 bags as cabin baggage. I advise you to check in one more bag.”

“This is just a suit on a hanger. I mean shouldn’t that not count as baggage anyways.”

“Well you can take a chance and go to the security check with 3 bags. But if they don’t allow it, you’ll have to come back and check it in here again.”

It was clear that she knew this was my first time. I had to save face somehow. It was one of the most difficult decisions of my life. On one hand I could give in to the rules of the airline society and accept I had no experience in this game or on the other I could carry the 3 bags and make a statement. I didn’t know if I was indeed a rebel. I did get goose bumps every time I watched RDB, but is that a strong enough piece of evidence. I decided that I owe at least this much to the trinity - Mr. Mehra, Mr Joshi and Rehman sir.

“I will take my chance”, I said to the smiling face at the counter and walked off. I was a man on a mission. I reached a new high, called ‘the first floor’, when the escalator ended another journey. The line at the security check meandered like a 15 foot long snake. Now all I had to do is calculate the probability of catching the flight if I stood in line – security rejected the third bag – I went down to check it in at the counter – came back to the security check – stood in line again and board the flight unless they found a bomb or a pack of shampoo in my bag.

I was never good at probability. Even in my CAT paper I figured I had a higher probability of clearing the exam if I don’t sit around and waste time on the probability questions. I thought of doing the same again. I had a better probability if I took a decision based on whatever data was available – like a manager. The low-risk ‘Tam Bram’ mentality didn’t help either. After a full 73 seconds of deep contemplation, I came up with a plan. I decided to wear the suit, stuff the suit hanger into the small bag and join the tail of the snake. “There goes the rebel”, I thought to myself in disappointment. “No Khalbali. No Roobaru roshani. Just plain Main aisa kyon hoon?”

I didn’t face any problems at the security check. How could I? I wasn’t carrying any liquids, had shaved just before coming, and was dressed totally ‘not-to-kill’.

While I sat there and waited for the flight I couldn’t help but notice the group composition. 50% French, 35% Telugus, 10% Americans and 5% rest of the world, which included me. For the first time in my life I knew what it felt like being the odd one out. And suddenly I sympathized with the firangs who have to put up with the never ending stares from us - the curious Indians.

The PA system roared with the announcement of my flight’s departure. Nothing exciting happened from then on. I stood in the line, the tags of my bags got checked again and it was confirmed that I was not a terrorist. I entered the airplane and was greeted in English by a French airhostess. Man...That was the sexiest ‘Good evening’ I ever got! I got comfortable in what was going to be my seat for the next 10 hours.

I was a virgin of sorts – the first time flying outside of India. “When I wake up tomorrow morning, I will not be one anymore”, I thought. It was a nice feeling. And when the seatbelt sign was turned on, I joked to myself, “And now…I have protection”.