Krishna Drops a Brick
Vengrai Parthasaraaaaaathy
Krishna our hero, was a ‘Made in America’ guy, born and educated in it, This fourteen-year old liked to be called the name given by his American friends. Chris had a Western accent and a slight drawl which sounded funny when he tried to speak in his mother-tongue Kannada.. It appeared it was mostly in English that he spoke..Fate threw us together in some strange and hilarious misadventures.
As the only uncle available, I had to escort him on his first sight-seeing trip to the capital.
During our flight from Bangalore I asked Chris casually whether he knew Hindi
He said ‘Yes, a smattering. I got acquainted through some occasional Hindi films and more
through an NRI friend in school’. I did not give much thought to it after that.
In Delhi we stayed with a friend in Karol Bagh . Though taken aback by the chaotic traffic and throngs of people, Chris seemed to like the hustle and the bustle. On the second day our hostess was feeding her cat some milk in a saucer on seeing which
Chris exclaimed, ‘Billy doodh peethi hai’. I was somewhat impressed though it was not such an event calling for his loud pronouncement.. I thought Chris just wanted to show off.
That was okay with me.
The same evening we were in my friend’s terrace and my friend was waxing eloquent on the culture of corruption that was spreading at all levels.. Chris, who was quietly sipping tea,
sprang a surprise and cheerily said, or rather queried , ‘Billy doodh peethi hai’.? The irrelevance of this remark made me wince because it made no sense. But to my surprise that host observed
‘I see, that is an American idiom for taking bribes , is it? I should remember that’ This was the second time that Chris brought out his Billy mantra.
Later, we were on our way to Agra by train .Chris’s accent and wonderment at commonplace things
like four of a family going in a rickety bike.’Wow, look at that” and seeing a buffalo (Cow, cow!) or
an over loaded creaking\ truck (my, my.)
When we settled down in a hotel in Agra I questioned Chris about his Hindi. ‘What are you saying man, billy and all that’? .He was an above average guy, even brilliant.. I spoke to him about his out-of-context remarks, specially the Billy thing. He stalled a bit and said, ‘Really , I know a smattering of Hindi.. Only this billy thing comes easily to me and I like the sound of it; somewhat musical. And rolls well on the tongue.’.
‘Do you know the meaning, man’, I asked him. ‘Yes, something about cat and milk, is it not’ ?. I started enjoying his foray into Hindi and on a couple of more occasions he was in form with his Billy and doodh. Anyway, I cautioned him. ‘For heaven’s sake be careful you may start a riot. For lesser provocations there have been bandhs and bus burnings’. His response amused me .’ O God I would like to see a bus burning. When are they going to have it’?.
The return journey to Delhi passed of without any incident. I should add ‘almost’ to that. .In our compartment there was a family of four, presided over by a formidable lady loaded with jewelry and blessed with rolling fat all over. She had a drill sergeant’s voice which she used to good purpose by barking orders at all and sundry. The husband hid himself behind a newspaper and the daughter-in-law cowered in a corner window seat.
Our train was nearing Delhi station when the woman took out a thermos flask and poured herself a generous glass of what looked like milk. She began drinking it, when, out of the blue with startling suddenness Chris unleashed his mantra: ‘Billy doodh peethi Hai’. And he laughed uproariously.
‘Haan’ exclaimed the lady, as though she had received a whip-lash.. She wheeled around 180 degrees with eyes flaming and arms akimbo. One could almost hear her grinding her molars. She was about to deliver what was surely threatening to be
an explosive situation.I felt like jumping out of the train when someone (God bless him!) with an unerring sense of timing shouted ‘ Station Aagaya’. That was the signal for a sudden flurry of movement, shifting of baggage, assembling of children , on-rush of porters , General confusion prevailed. The fuming drill sergeant was forgotten as the passengers made their way to the exit. While passing us the daughter-in-law gave a covert glance of unspoken admiration at Chris.
In the taxi on our way back I gave a big slap to Chris and said ‘You masterpiece’. The naughty rogue gave a naughty guffaw.