Index:
The Pundit ran. I don't know why he did. I don't know why, oblivious to everyone else, he felt the urge to hold up his dhoti with both hands and sprint in chappals. All I know is that at any other time if a half naked man, in a towel, sandals, and forehead paint had dared to streak across the lobby of the Hilton, sirens would have been called. This time however, the Marwaris had come to Bangkok.
I am Marwari. We are a proud race. We hold our heads up high, with backs straight. This is more because our bellies prevent us from bending our spines, and our wallets act as counterbalances. We aren't necessarily rich (case in point, your's truly), but we don't spend. Its not a case of spending much, or less, or little. We don't spend. We never spend money. We never spend money, except for the few cases when we do, and when that happens, someone will get married.
So somewhere down the line my cousin decides to marry a Punjabi. A Marwari decides to marry a Punjabi. Thrifty, conservative, tee-totalling, vegetarians from anywhere-is-more-alive-than-here somewhere in Rajashtan, marrying a Punjabi living in California. The wedding was going to be in the whorehouse of the world, Bang-kok. There was no way i was missing this.
Anyway, fast forward, cousin books tickets, we finish packing, day of departure arrives, Mom and me on one flight, Dad on another, wait.. what? Right, so somehow my dad is booked on a flight that is 2 hours earlier than ours. He is on Indian/Indian Airlines/Air India (does anyone know what its called?) Much ado, baggage exchange, whirring down the airport riding on the trolley with mom running after me, and Dad having to explain how why exactly he was going to Bangkok for a week with no luggage or hand baggage (we had taken it) later.... we get past immigration and into duty-free.Oh yeah, and my dad's flight is delayed by 6 hours. (Did i mention he was travelling Air India?).
"Mom, relax, we have 45 minutes for the flight". "Son, lets just go to the gate and wait". "Mom, there is nothing to do at the gate, lets just get something to eat". "Son, they are STARTING TO BOARD". "Oh shit mom...wanna run?"
(Part 2: The Arrival)
- The Coming Storm
- The Arrival
- What it means to be in Bangkok
- Time to Grow Up
- Cruising Along
The Pundit ran. I don't know why he did. I don't know why, oblivious to everyone else, he felt the urge to hold up his dhoti with both hands and sprint in chappals. All I know is that at any other time if a half naked man, in a towel, sandals, and forehead paint had dared to streak across the lobby of the Hilton, sirens would have been called. This time however, the Marwaris had come to Bangkok.
I am Marwari. We are a proud race. We hold our heads up high, with backs straight. This is more because our bellies prevent us from bending our spines, and our wallets act as counterbalances. We aren't necessarily rich (case in point, your's truly), but we don't spend. Its not a case of spending much, or less, or little. We don't spend. We never spend money. We never spend money, except for the few cases when we do, and when that happens, someone will get married.
So somewhere down the line my cousin decides to marry a Punjabi. A Marwari decides to marry a Punjabi. Thrifty, conservative, tee-totalling, vegetarians from anywhere-is-more-alive-than-here somewhere in Rajashtan, marrying a Punjabi living in California. The wedding was going to be in the whorehouse of the world, Bang-kok. There was no way i was missing this.
Anyway, fast forward, cousin books tickets, we finish packing, day of departure arrives, Mom and me on one flight, Dad on another, wait.. what? Right, so somehow my dad is booked on a flight that is 2 hours earlier than ours. He is on Indian/Indian Airlines/Air India (does anyone know what its called?) Much ado, baggage exchange, whirring down the airport riding on the trolley with mom running after me, and Dad having to explain how why exactly he was going to Bangkok for a week with no luggage or hand baggage (we had taken it) later.... we get past immigration and into duty-free.Oh yeah, and my dad's flight is delayed by 6 hours. (Did i mention he was travelling Air India?).
"Mom, relax, we have 45 minutes for the flight". "Son, lets just go to the gate and wait". "Mom, there is nothing to do at the gate, lets just get something to eat". "Son, they are STARTING TO BOARD". "Oh shit mom...wanna run?"
(Part 2: The Arrival)
:D I want more!
ReplyDeleteI love the start. Especially the pundit description which reminds me of the Malgudi satire which I adored as a kid. You've referred to a lot of different things as you begin , so I'm expecting a long super long script to make every mention fall into place :D
ReplyDeleteI reiterate, I love the start!
That explains your love for squash, basically it trains you to leg it :P
ReplyDeleteOn a serious note, I liked this entry for the understated humor in a perfectly normal scenario. The descriptions are well done too!
Super!
ReplyDelete