Dog in the lift!

It happened in a split second! The lift stopped at the floor, and before I knew, Joie and his master were inside. Three is a crowd. It is more so, when you are in a compact lift with Joie occupying more than two-thirds of the space.

I do not know if Joie is an Alsatian or a Great-Dane. But I do know he looks menacing and ferocious. If Joie stood on his hind legs, we will be eyeball to eyeball to each other.

Evidently, Joie and I do not share an agreeable chemistry. The dislike is mutual. Perhaps, with a hood over the head and a mask, Joie sees a faint resemblance to burglars of the past. After two years of pandemic, I was hoping Joie would have got used to the new norm.

It gets uncomfortable when someone is staring at you. You try to distract yourself and look elsewhere- at the cell-phone, at the buttons on the lift, but each time, your eyes hover over Joie, his eyes are fixed at you. You see him baring his mouth and notice his canines and deepening frown-lines.  He sniffs at your ankles and knees as he traces the contours of your body. You are in panic, but there is no escape. You have half a mind to press an arbitrary floor button and make an abrupt exit. For that, you have to pass Joie. You do not know what body-part he may snap at when you make a quick getaway!

Call it Murphy’s Law, as the lift was about to touch terra firma, the current went out and the lift came to a halt, dangling between floors. It was pitch-dark. Joie let out a terrifying bark! If ever there was a hell, it had to be this! “Quiet Joie!”, shot back Joie’s master. To assuage my fears, he added, “Joie is very friendly!” The next bark was a mild whimper. Despite the quavering fear I was in, I couldn’t but admire Joie’s comprehension of the English language! He would score well in those English verbal tests.

Finally, the current was back and the interminable ride was over. The door sprung open and Joie dragged his master out! I was shaking all over and headed for the Customer Office. The apartment rules surely required an amendment! No! I am not saying pets should not be in the apartment complex. We should at least have a rule as to who takes the lift. Since there are fewer pets, may be, they can take the stairs. If this is not agreeable, I am fine with the other alternative- from now on, Joie can take the lift. I will take the stairs!

 

 

Those court scenes!

Back then, as children, we watched the Sunday evening film on TV. It was a family ritual that was rarely missed. The most riveting films were the ones that ended in a court scene.

The plot was well known. The hero had been unfairly implicated in a crime while the villain went scot-free. The court scene was the final denouement when the hero’s fate would be decided. The proceedings followed a familiar pattern. When a witness came to the caged dock, he first swore on oath- “Whatever I say is the truth and shall say nothing but the truth!”.

Witnesses fumbled over words so that the entire audience was in splits. The judge was a serious man. He used a wooden hammer to strike down the commotion with shouts of “Order! Order!” That was enough to quieten the audience.

The prosecution lawyer spewed venom. As far as he was concerned, it was an “open and shut case” and the hero was undoubtedly guilty. The British may have left the country decades ago, but lawyers continued to address the judge as “Your Honour” and “My Lord”! Witnesses addressed the judge in the vernacular as “judge saab”.

It was now the defense lawyer’s turn. He appeared ineffective, but slowly built-up the tempo. Sometimes, he started with irrelevant questions for the witness. This angered the prosecution lawyer who protested, “Objection Your Honour! My client is questioned on details that have nothing to do with the case!” The judge mostly replied, “Objection overruled!” and gave rope to the defense. Witnesses had to answer all kinds of questions related to what they were doing on a particular night, several years ago. Surprisingly, they recalled and answered!

Soon, the camera panned to the statue of Lady Judgement carrying a balance in her hand! The twist in the case was brewing. The defense lawyer summoned a particular witness. There was a collective gasp from the audience as if the dead had come back alive! This old lady held the key to the entire puzzle.

Finally, the judge read the verdict, “Having examined all the pieces of evidence, we reach the following conclusion- the hero is innocent, the villain is guilty and shall be awarded the severest punishment!” A last-ditch effort by the villain to escape was thwarted by an alert policeman.

At the end of the film, there were details that I didn’t follow. I tried to get them clarified from my sister. Her answers were cryptic and left me more confused. But you got the big picture. The hero was a free man and joined the heroine in a two-seater car. They drove out into the sunset and lived happily ever after. Life was that simple!

The case of the forgotten briefcase!

The laptop has become a part and parcel of every profession today. And with it, you need a backpack to carry the laptop around. From the kindergarten child to the top-notch executive, everyone carries a backpack. It has become so ubiquitous that it has become impossible to differentiate between a kid, an upstart and a professional!

Back then, any person of standing carried a briefcase. Like a king’s scepter and crown, it was an integral part of his persona. The briefcase had to be sleek. Any bigger and it would metamorphose into a suitcase and just wouldn’t suit the purpose. You never knew why people carried a briefcase. There was no concept of “working from home” back then. It was too slender to accommodate anything- not even a lunchbox. So, what did they carry in the briefcase? At best, some stationery, the day’s newspaper, a business card, and some magazines from the office library!

But when you stood at the bus-stop or the railway station with your gleaming briefcase, you made a style statement. It announced that you were employed, and you felt officious and important. Briefcases looked classy. Just a click of the button, and it immediately sprang open, like a prodded cobra! The interior was glossy and split into several compartments, that housed your personal items.

In Mumbai’s crowded local trains, the briefcase assumed several avatars. The briefcase was balanced across opposite passengers and served as a table-top for an engaging game of cards or chess! Sometimes, passengers doubled up as musicians to spend the travel time more meaningfully. While one sang latest cine songs, the other kept beat, with the briefcase functioning as a percussion instrument!

No yesteryear Bollywood movie was complete without the briefcase playing a prominent role. Invariably, the hero carried ransom money in a briefcase to be handed over to the villain at a shady beach. But the briefcase’s sense of morality was unquestionable. The villain would never pocket it. At the opportune moment, there was always some distraction that led to a major scuffle. In the ensuing fight, the hero battled with the villain’s hoodlums, with the briefcase serving as a shield for many a kick and a punch. Needless to say, it was the briefcase that saved the day!

We are saddened that the briefcase that played such a multitude of roles and was a veritable Swiss-Army-Knife, has now been cast away in favor of the measly backpack. Even the Finance Minister does not carry it anymore while presenting the budget! Can we make a case for the briefcase and resurrect it back to life? We are sure it will provide ample entertainment that this generation has been completely deprived of!

Paper Roast!

You sit at the restaurant table and pop the question, “What is today’s special?” Pat comes the answer, “Paper Roast sir!”

The term “Paper Roast” has become such an integral part of the South Indian culinary vocabulary that it hardly strikes you as an English phrase! Paper Roast is not just another “dosa”.  It has an added aura- it is paper-thin and roasted to the point where it looks like burnished gold! It is wafer-crisp and with each bite, you can feel it crackle as it melts in the mouth!

The restaurant kitchen looks like the boiler of a Steam Engine! An array of pans, a battalion of burners, smoke wafting all over, and through all that haze, you can see the dosas in various stages of metamorphosis!

The magician is at work, as though endowed with a dozen arms. He works in a frenzy- scoops out the batter, spreads it in a circle, squirts some oil and very soon, the dosas sizzle to life. He is all over, moving from pan to pan, scraping and scooping and before you know plates upon plates are ready with Paper Roast! He steps to the far end and gives a stir to the cauldron of sambar! The air is redolent with a fragrance that makes you all the more hungry! 

Paper Roasts come in all shapes- some are circular, others are folded in a triangle, while some stand up conical! It is a visual treat as the golden dosas are laid upon the green of the plantain leaf. Tucked with the Paper Roast is a cup of steaming sambar and beside that, the textured white of the coconut chutney!

As the bearer steps out the kitchen, Paper Roast is a head-turner. You roll up your sleeves expectantly, only to find that it is headed to a different table! A series of such false starts fills you with a mild sense of irritation, but you know the wait will be worthwhile!

Now, the bearer carries one enormous Paper Roast, spanning several feet and rolled like a carpet! You wonder whether this dish was meant for the giants at Brobdingnag that Gulliver stepped into! An entire table erupts in excitement as the item is gently anchored.

Your reverie on how this is going to be consumed is cut short. The Paper Roast is now at your table. It looks delectable, topped with a generous globule of butter. Like an ice-berg in the sun, the butter melts leaving tiny rivulets that trickle down the sides of the Paper Roast! You cannot wait anymore. You dive into it with gusto. The contentment is supreme- all is well with yourself, the world and all that’s in it!