On popular demand, Kunju Mama again!!
His auto escapades have obviously struck a chord with readers across the globe. My gal pal, Ivette’s son now wants to own an autorickshaw! Rodney & Ivette, count your blessings – could’ve been a porche or BMW!!!
Like wine, Kunju Mama just gets better with age. On my last trip to India , a fruitful visit was made to the house which has been a privileged silent witness to many a delightful happening! My mother as advised by John Milton, ‘ours is not to reason why’, didn’t bother to investigate the change of heart, and the ecstasy I expressed at the thought of what lay ahead. She just gratefully accepted my willingness to visit her brother. Shiksha, reflecting the folly of youth, firmly refused. All in good time, my friend. One day she’ll regret missing out on what could have turned out to be a defining moment in her life!!
Now before I launch into my story, I need to place a statutory warning of sorts here. My dear Mama’s bizarre thoughts are totally his own. I am merely the narrator, the chosen one, to tell his remarkable tales. So one of Kunju’s theories was that only Brahmins eat pure ‘saatvik’ vegetarian food, and point to be noted is that this food does not have any odors. I would love to be a fly on the wall &be an audience to his horror when he watches the truest Brahmin from the house of Lalgudi, Ashok Ramamurthy Kaushik, demolish all creatures that crawl & move!! But that’s the world according to Kunju Mama – rigidly divided into two categories: the Brahmin who eats odorless vegetarian fare, & all those who are not Brahmins, who eat food with distinct scents!!
Back to my story – when we got to Mama’s place, an apartment block, security had obviously been beefed up, and we had to call Kunju to help us get in. When we expressed curiosity about the security, Mama explained that there had been a robbery in the building. In our sad little lives, that itsel was exciting, and we sat up … just the tip of the iceberg my friends.
Apparently there was this middle-aged lady living next door who had opened the door to a couple of thugs posing to be from the locality’s temple, collecting donations. She unsuspectingly let them in, and they roughed her up, and starting stealing stuff from her house. Kunju’s neighbor was a woman of substance and started screaming her guts out. Now these thieves had come prepared … a bottle of acid (I thought these things happened only in Indian movies!!) which they forcibly poured down her throat.
Then came the point of interest. We were on the edge of our seats by now.(My mother even graciously agreed to stay on and miss her daily soaps!) We learnt that the fine lady had survived to tell the tale, and thankfully, ‘being a Brahmin’ had saved her life!! Initially, we let that curious piece of information slide by unquestioned, but when for the fourth time he joyously announced that her “Brahmin-hood” (what’s the term for that by the way?!) had come to her rescue, my mother couldn’t mask her bewilderment at the relevance of the ‘Brahmin’ bit & finally asked her brother what the hell he meant!
Kunju Mama resented the interruption, but this was his formidable big sister, so reluctantly stopped the flow of the tale of high crimes to explain himself: Here goes…
The ‘padosan’s head was being held firmly by one of her assailants & the other was pouring acid down her unwilling throat! (Later the thought did strike me that they needn’t have gone to so much trouble. Wouldn’t coshing her on the head, gagging her throat and probably tying her up been easier??! Hey, but who am I to complain?? No acid, no story!!)
Now what comes next is pure, unadulterated “Kunju-ism”: Apparently, acid has a distinct odor (not having partaken of this delicacy, can’t comment!) For the lady next door, her true blue Brahmin throat could not accept this vile smelling liquid, and she choked on it, and it fortunately came out instead of reaching her insides. (By now I wanted to throw up too!!)
Kunju’s logic was that someone who was not a Brahmin, and therefore used to scented foods, would not have experienced the ‘Brahmin throat block’, & so willingly glugged the acid down & the ‘non-Brahmin’ world would have had to bid farewell to one of it’s inhabitants!
In this match b/w the ‘Brahmin’ & the rest of the world, jo jeeta wohi sikander!!
When I narrated this twisted tale to a close friend with an over-active imagination, she began to visualize “Acid” bars where the acerbic liquid would be flowing from kegs and sold in pints. License to enter?? Proof that you are not a “Brahmin”!!
Yeah, this one has a moral too:
“You can take a Brahmin to the river of acid, but you can’t make him drink it”!!!
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