Eyjafjallajökull :: © 2010 tiffinbox

Eyjafjallajökull’s nearest active neighbours are Katla, to the northeast, and Eldfell, to the southwest. Hence they are considered the mom and the doctor in this representation of how when you are sick, and you try to speak while you puke, you can pretty much expect your name to be miss-spelt. Perhaps Eyjafjallajökull’s real name is Jake or Kaju or Jaku and while he spoke, he just spilt a few extra letters.

This is a somewhat delayed but humorous look at the Eyjafjallajökull eruptions that created some news. But, yeah, we are lazy.

Bizzare thought – Sriparna Ghosh    |    Illustration – Rohit Chaudhary

I flip through TV time shift, only to stop on promising movie names which might sound like Hell and Below, Secluded island, Don’t look back, Don’t look back twice, Watchers (or weight watchers… or return of the killer weighing machines), anything with Lindsay Lohan or Diane Keaton in it. Or no. Wait. Just Lindsay Lohan.

But I digress. Just like romance films and their annoying little happy endings, horror movies have their own clichés. Here is a rough primer on how to write your own:

1. The hero’s family/girlfriend/children will never believe the existence of the zombies/ghosts/vengeful souls. Doesn’t matter if neighbours and pets are mysteriously turning up butchered in your bathroom or your doorstep, the family always says, “Honey, I think you need some help.” This is usually before the ghost literally slaps the daylights out of the girlfriend.

2. Pets always die first. Or the chesty neighbor.

3. Basements and attics are playpens of the evil. The first few scenes will have someone creep up the creaking stairs. The hallway bulb flickers and fades. Hand moves to turn a bright, shiny knob. Knob turns painfully slowly. “Michael! Where are you,” says chirpy voice from downstairs. “Be right down, honey!” Leaves door closed but turns back once to look at it.

4. The hero/heroine will always do one Google search. Or a trip down to the nearest newspaper archives to search for a 50-year-old murder case.

5. During the search, the local Sherriff will say, “Trust me sir, you should stay away from this. Nothing good will come out of this.”

6. Children will always sleep alone. Even if daggers are mysteriously flying out of drawers, neighbors are dying, basement doors are banging, kids need their nightmares.

7. The ghost always befriends/possesses the youngest member of the family first.

8. Rain on climax night. Always.

But lives of some people around us, do depend on the garbage we dont care about. Their job is to collect, sort and dispatch garbage. For them the wheelbarrows with identification numbers painted on them are like their briefcases. And like once in a while, we like to change the things we carry and change the way we look, these carts are given a fresh coat of paint, and gleaming numbers.

While they bask in the sun on this very bright day, it does bring a cheer looking at these carts waiting to dry. Well, they didnt say “yellow yellow dirty fellow” for no reason.

the dirty fellows :: © 2010 Sriparna Ghosh

The Swine Flew :: © 2009 Sriparna Ghosh

The Swine Flew
Not many, but few
Had any clue
That in the city
It grew
_

Anyway, the fictional Pooja belongs to the serial Ladies Special (@ 9:30 Mon-Thursday on Sony) and the other to JKM motors. Since its inception, I have tried not to miss any episode of Ladies Special and for the past one month I have been trying to miss JKM-Pooja’s incessant calls.

Pooja of Ladies Special is from Dhanbad, and very innocently doormattish. She will get slapped by her husband and still make him tea. After being regularly taunted by him, will still have sex, unwillingly. She was interesting to me, cause I thought girls like her don’t exist. It is small things she does, at home and office, that bewilder me.

Pooja of JKM motors started calling me a month back for my car insurance renewal. I was quite broke, and without July’s salary was clearly not interested, and was willing to even NOT get the insurance. Not just Pooja, but even Nisha, Ajanta, Ellora and Elephanta (you get the point) called up. I had had it. Firstly I did not have money, and they wanted it. Secondly, there was still 30 days to go till expiry. So I indicated to all, to call after the 25th. But they did not stop. So individually, all of them received a lecture on calendar interpretation skills from me. Not very sweetly though. So that took care of 80% of callers. Pooja persisted, so I gave in. I asked her a million questions, bargained saying “I am a student and can’t afford this”, told her to call after 2 days, 3 days, 1 week etc, asked for emails, took her number and lost it. But she kept calling, and would very politely ask “Ma’am what have you decided about the policy”.

So today I bargained again, and was promised a car perfume in return. I took it and finalised it. It’s important to add that there wasn’t any elation in her voice, which would be there in mine if I managed to hook a client I have been pursuing for a month.

What made me start on the topic of the parallel Poojas, was a call that came within 30 minutes. This was Nisha, from Rohan Motors. When I broke the news that I had already got the policy, she oscillated between whining and blaming me. “Why dint you get it done from me”, “I have been calling you for so long, so why did go to them”. I told her I did not have any personal enmity with her, so she shouldn’t take it personally. Why I got the policy from Pooja and not her was not clear to me till I thought about it. And of course, I couldn’t have explained all this to Nisha.

All this while, I would imagine the LS Pooja on phone talking to me about insurance. She was someone who wouldn’t mind anything. Someone who wouldn’t complain and wouldn’t blame and just take everything in her stride. And cause I realized that people like her do exist. I chose her for the insurance, over Sabarmati and Narmada cause I remembered her, cause her name was Pooja, and she was just like one.  And I also got the car perfume.

The secret behind Rohit's fat belly :: © 2009 Sriparna Ghosh

What am I talking about?

Pithooooo!!

For those born in the 70s and 80s, this was one of the most popular neighborhood/boring vacation evenings/bunking tuition evenings games.

For those who are not familiar with the game: it involves two teams, one team arranges that precarious tower of road-side pebbles and the other team has to bring it down with a tennis-ball, after which pandemonium ensues. The “arranger team” has to disperse and run as fast as possible and the other team has to hit the opposite team with the ball. Thrilling!!

I assure you there are very few things more fun on a summer vacation when you are 12 than running blindedly from a blood-thirsty opponent armed with a very toxic-green and bouncy tennis ball. And boy does it hurt on impact.

Speaking of games, the other day I got thinking of all the other games we used to play. Here is a short list.

Oonch neech ka Paapdaa: Retarded game of two teams on territorial grounds. One team chooses higher or lower ground and teases the other team members by setting foot on its level. Presuming it is a child’s take on territory battles.

Dark room: A favorite in birthday parties. I still think it is a sneaky boys’ game as they try to grab girls in unlit corners.

Kho-kho: Needs no description.

Pakdan-Pakdayee: One person goes to “Den” and has to run after pesky friends trying to get them “out”.

Chhupan Chhupayee: My favorite game.

Any more?

Pity now I hardly see any of these games being played in the kolony neighborhoods but then again, maybe I am running in the wrong circles.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.