Upakhyana Tritiya
“Maya Moha Jaal”

Pavitr is doing some serious kheti baadi in a local farm in mumbai. His opening dialogue has the indian kids avidly hanging by his words for catch-ons and cult phrases which goes
“brrrrrr hie hie…gomti, birju…hal chalaoge to chara khaoge”. Post this intellectual rendition his landlord Jhamil Jaamsingh storms to the field and tears at his long turbaned hair “aaah…yeh makdee manav mujhe kahin ka nahin chodega. Mera khetva barbaad kardiya”
“ka hua? Usne tho kal rakshasva se bachaya”
Jaamsingh pulls out a few strands of his moustache, no not the occidental toothbrush one but an aesthetically-curling-at-its-tips-and-nicely-chameli-oiled one.
” Meri gaayi doodhva dene se mana kar rahi hai…makdi manav ne use daraa diya. Shahar jaakar naye gayi bakri ke photoo lao”
The discerning indian 4th standarder will not miss the intuitive glint in Pavitr’s bumpkin eyes.

Cut to top of Gate Way of India.
Makdee Manav surveys the busy landscape below him, the rolling arabian sea, the steady influx of foreigners dressed in baniyans and shorts but sporting large tilaks or bindis, couples doing very couply stuff by the shade.
“Aaaaah” …a chilling scream of dismay, fading into frightened submission.
His auditory reflexes tuned for maximum throughput, the cry for help doesnt go amiss. Bounding lightly from one crumbling chawl to uneven skyscarper and catching his loosely hanging dhoti on a couple of jutting clothes line, hurling some chosen hindi expletives, releasing it, tucking in the extra bit o’ cloth safely somewhere unmentionable, he skirts the busy traffic to reach lithely- The Jehangir Art Gallery from whence the plea for rescue ensued.
Crawling on the roof unnoticed he finds that the commotion was afterall just a woman caught unawares by a life size MF Hussain women’s special. Not again…he mutters.
BOOM !! Explosion near the Chattrapathi Shivaji Terminus station. A green rakshas sporting demonic dhoti cut piece in a suitable verdant hue is creating pot holes on the freshly tarred roads.
A complex series of dhishooms and bhishooms, ray guns and makdi jaals, evil laughter and heroic dialogues later makdi manav is back as pavitr to his khet with prospective gaayi bhens photos for Jaamsingh.
Enter Maya Jain.
“Arre…pavitr….iyaan su kares? ” she quips in a gujrati accent. He gives her a once over…she looks ravishing in that Ghagra Choli with sparkling single-plaited hair embellished with a pink ribbon.
“Meera…mhaare saath sahar chalogi. Dhabeli khilaoonga. ”
Meera blushes in a very Indian “istri” way and they make progress to MunnaBhai Ka Dhaaba on their favorite mode of preferred Indian transport “Chotu” their pet elephant. Having watched a local snakecharmer and tantrik performance they hold hands and perform some very Indian yoga step cum dance routine on chowpatty and then move off to their farmland.
“Baa bom maregi.” she confides her anxiety.”Hanh! Here’s one more thought for the day. Manne makdi manav bau saru lage che”
Pavitr looks at her wistfully. How truly madly deeply he had fallen for her.

Kya pavitr sach much maya ke moh jaal mein phas gaya hai?
Kya Rakshas dobara aayega aur Bhai ke bhes mein hafta vasooli karega?
Dekhiya agla ang is karyakram ka agle hafte. Isi din isi samay.

P.S. :Meghs as it must be obvious now I have a commentspace-eating syndrome. Saari. Its a one off thing when i am really moved by something.

This used to be one of my favauritest cartoons on TV…imagine him jumping on walls with his dhoti, mojari and they might even add a turban next!!

urrrgggg!!!!!!!!

http://www.idlebrain.com/images1/newpg-ankita17.jpg

Things will change, whether you like it or not. If your memories are weak enough to get blown by a breeze, then they are not worth hugging on to.

If you can’t imagine, then leave that to who can. A bad thought is better than a no thought.

Gawd!!!…am gonna go and get myself a copy of tinkle right now!!…Suppandi rocks!:-))

By donning a dhoti and jumping over the Taj Mahal and Gateway of India, I think the character caters to the stereoypes of India that float about in the west. Much along the lines of ‘oh yes! India is a land of snake charmers and we still use elephants in place of taxis!’ Perpetrating ludicrious stereotypes can be attributed to cluelessness when attempted by a non-Indian, but when its an India-collaborated stereotype, it bugs me more.

What [iii] said is also a very good point. When so many awe-inspiring, exciting characters exist in our own mythology and folk lore, why not use one of those instead? But my main issue still remains in the manner in which the character in being Indianized.

Ah Amar Chitra Kathas and Enid Blyton books! Childhood just wouldn’t be the same without those :)