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****room

God! What has happened to me? Six months of stay in Mumbai as a journalist and I cannot go to the bathroom anymore!

OK, before you dirty minds start thinking what clever yet nasty comment you will write, let me clarify quickly.

Almost everyday I have to go to this five star hotel or the other to attend press conferences (the names of the foods their sound like poetry). Once I did the mistake of asking a liftman where the ‘bathroom’ is. He gave me a surprised look and rectified my mistake, “you mean the washroom?”

“Yeah, indeed. I am sorry,” I had to apologise.

Now invariably when I have the urge to release some extra liquid out of my body, I go to the ‘washroom’.

My dear ‘bathroom’ is now dead in my life. Probably it will never come back again unless I go back to my home in Calcutta where ‘washroom’ is where the well is (to wash your feet and hands) and bathroom is where you actually do things …

But in Mumbai, there are only washrooms or the most illusive 'restroom' (heck! the first time I heard this word, I thought people go there and sleep). May be I have become civilised or the whole world has become brown
sahibs. Only Mumbadevi knows!


Please allow me to stop here, washroom beckons …

Comments

Vincent said…
The liftman was out of order. He deserved no apology. He thought he was being very American, or European. Over here you could ask for anything at all: "Where's the little boys' room?" Some guests would just say, "Where's the---?" just pausing unsure. We don't have liftmen here but any trained hotel employee in England would put you at ease and say "Oh, the Gentlemen's Cloakroom, sir?" or whatever they called it in that hotel.
Shuv said…
good to know that u neither 'wash' nor feel 'rested' after these trips.
Anando Rocks said…
Ha ha ha ha. Boss, that's life. Move on. Dikhave pe mat jao, apni akal lagao.

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Kaun banega karorpati...dwitiya

--Namaste, satsriakaal, aadab, mein amitabh bacchan aapke samne, leke hajir hua hu, phir ek bar, kaun banega karorpati dwitiya.
(audiences in dark start clapping along with a music as if crusader king Richard of England just captured the castle of a jehadi king)
Aaj, mere samne beithe hai Jarshad kakiara…kakku…cuckoo…
(a club-shaped man intervenes, with a child-like smile, “Kakkrakandy”)
Ji haa, kakkara (“kandy”, the man again intervenes with a shy smile)
-Yes, Jarshad kakk…, whatever, aiye aap aur hum khele yeh adbhut game, jiska naam hei …(looks at the club-shaped man)
Jarshad Kakkrakandy, answers “kauun banayega karrorrpatti”

Amitabh shows Jarshad the seat, adjusts the seat for him. Jarshad sits, the chair shrieks.

--aur abhi mere samne baithe hain Jarshad n. k., from Chennai, who is a journalist with reuters, loves reading dilbert, unka favourite movie hai “chandramukhi”. And he is the self-proclaimed ‘king of PJ’.

--Haan to Jarshad saab, aapne likhe hein ke apke naam hei Jarshad n.k. now …