Jaadu ki jhappi of a different sort!
It was just another day at work. Me drinking coffee and tea by turns, at regular intervals, intermittent excursions on the internet and the phone of a purely unofficial nature, keeping an ear and eye open for anything gossip-worthy-all the essentials of a productive work day.
The city being in the throes of colorful and euphoric upheaval as Lord Ganesha made his yearly journey back to his heavenly abode after a brief sojourn amongst mortals, the work day ended earlier than usual.
A colleague and me ended a brief bout of cogitation by finding refuge in the dictum "When in doubt, watch a movie." Our destination: the local "multiplex for the masses" which goes by the colloquialised nickname of "Gaity-Galaxy", officially known as G7. One of the few remaining bastions of "black-marketeering" of movie tickets in a city over-ridden by obscenely overpriced multiplex cinemas, with popcorn costing its weight in gold. Well, almost.
Having got into an auto-rickshaw, we find ourselves getting driven along at top-speed by a rather talkative auto-wallah who loses no time in updating us on the latest traffic situation. Displaying apt business acumen, he zeroes in on our need to reach the cinema in time for the evening show. "Madam, aapko Gaity-Galaxy shortcut se chalne ka?" comes the irresistible offer from the auto-wallah's croney, who's been perched on the edge of the driver's seat all the while. And while, I'm still trying to figure out which of the grand total of one route to G7 can be termed as a short-cut, the auto-wallah sees it fit to make the decision for us. Soon enough, we find ourselves winding through hitherto unknown paths almost completely obscured by undergrowth, running right next to the local train tracks. We jostle along, surprising a lethargic cow mid-chew and a group of urchins engrossed in the democratic sport of gully-cricket. And before I can say "Lage raho munnabhai", we are anchored next to a gate adjoining the railway tracks. Our heroic auto-wallah and his friend clearly exulting in the feeling of having shared their superior knowledge of the bylanes, seem to think their duty is not yet over.
At my mild suggestion that a misled train or two might speed past us during our attempts to cross the tracks, my auto-wallah gallantly says, "Madam, kaiko tension lene ka? Hum aapko cross karaake aata hai." At which announcement, we are safely escorted to the other side of the tracks by the chilvalrous autowalla and his friend. We reach the other side and there's G7 right before us. A true-blue shortcut this.
I turn back to see our chaperones ducking under the gates and crossing the tracks on their way back.
I smile to myself.
The city being in the throes of colorful and euphoric upheaval as Lord Ganesha made his yearly journey back to his heavenly abode after a brief sojourn amongst mortals, the work day ended earlier than usual.
A colleague and me ended a brief bout of cogitation by finding refuge in the dictum "When in doubt, watch a movie." Our destination: the local "multiplex for the masses" which goes by the colloquialised nickname of "Gaity-Galaxy", officially known as G7. One of the few remaining bastions of "black-marketeering" of movie tickets in a city over-ridden by obscenely overpriced multiplex cinemas, with popcorn costing its weight in gold. Well, almost.
Having got into an auto-rickshaw, we find ourselves getting driven along at top-speed by a rather talkative auto-wallah who loses no time in updating us on the latest traffic situation. Displaying apt business acumen, he zeroes in on our need to reach the cinema in time for the evening show. "Madam, aapko Gaity-Galaxy shortcut se chalne ka?" comes the irresistible offer from the auto-wallah's croney, who's been perched on the edge of the driver's seat all the while. And while, I'm still trying to figure out which of the grand total of one route to G7 can be termed as a short-cut, the auto-wallah sees it fit to make the decision for us. Soon enough, we find ourselves winding through hitherto unknown paths almost completely obscured by undergrowth, running right next to the local train tracks. We jostle along, surprising a lethargic cow mid-chew and a group of urchins engrossed in the democratic sport of gully-cricket. And before I can say "Lage raho munnabhai", we are anchored next to a gate adjoining the railway tracks. Our heroic auto-wallah and his friend clearly exulting in the feeling of having shared their superior knowledge of the bylanes, seem to think their duty is not yet over.
At my mild suggestion that a misled train or two might speed past us during our attempts to cross the tracks, my auto-wallah gallantly says, "Madam, kaiko tension lene ka? Hum aapko cross karaake aata hai." At which announcement, we are safely escorted to the other side of the tracks by the chilvalrous autowalla and his friend. We reach the other side and there's G7 right before us. A true-blue shortcut this.
I turn back to see our chaperones ducking under the gates and crossing the tracks on their way back.
I smile to myself.
posted by Starship Enterprise at 11:40 PM
3 Comments:
You write well, but it would be better if you tried shorter sentences. Would make it more readable, otherwise it sounds kinda forced.
Just my opinion.
Anonymous coward, Reveal thyself and be executed! :)
Ok, on a serious note, point noted but can't help writing long sentences...in fact, often the final output is a result of considerable editing!
I was the collegue who tagged along..Really dont have anything more to add...its all written right thr..Trust me...its been written exactly the way it was...Reading it today, after 2 weeks,its as though it happ jus yest...Being my first time in mumbai, I should say i was shocked to see such a show of chivalry from autowalas..The place i am from,ppl think twice befor getting into one. Now i believe the ppl who told me i will love it wen i get here.
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