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Whether you snapped your buddy's new Natraj pencil clean in two or smashed your amma's favourite flower pot, just reach for salvation in the guise of that ubiquitous white tub with the royal blue lid... you know the one I'm talking about, behind the Bombay Anandabhavan sweets box full of used up ball point pens.
But first you'd have to pry the lid off with a screwdriver since it's sealed shut from a previous layer of hardened gum. Then peel back the half inch thick layer of useless skin caked over from when your cousin brother left it open after wrapping his fair notebooks in brown paper. Under which is the last millimetre of precious white amber with 3-4 houseflies preserved in it for posterity.
The best tool for application, unless you'd purchased the high end version with the (single-use) plastic brush, is the tip of your index finger. When you're done with the functional part of your project, go ahead and add an extra glob of Fevicol on your fingertip and gently blow until it dries there.
Now you can pretend to touch your friends with a dangerous gummed finger and watch them freak out and laugh like anything at their gullibility. Fun!!!
Mummy: "Just put Fevicol for now. When your father comes I'll ask him where he kept the bandages. Only he knows..."
Somu: "Fevicol on my hurt??? No..."
Mummy: "Your choice, otherwise I'll put Tincture of Benzene!"
Let's say you need a water connection to your house and you contact the local water board and request a connection. First of all, park your car outside the house immijetly. Now, first they will provide you with a No Objection Certificated to state unequivocally that they Do Not Object to your rather reasonable request for running water in your home. Then you can show them the NOC to demonstrate that they have not objected to your request for a water connection. When they see that they have Not Objected to said request, it's clear to them that the next step is to dig an open ditch outside your house after moving your driveway gravel stones to the side. Aren't you glad you parked your car outside the house?
Bindu: "Proctor aa? What nonsense, what does the dorm fellow have anything to do with your courses?"
Shyamala: "I don't know ma, but to change the course of my life I need that bloody No Objection Certificate somehow"
Bindu: "So did you ask him?"
Shyamala: "Ya, he objected... said he did Commerce stream and now he's a dorm Proctor... and Arundhati Roy did Arts & Literature it simms."
Bindu: "Ya, ya, but she landed up in jail, don't forget!"
It is not a consciously consistent policy, but is often found coexisting with its less evocative counterpart. We are left to conclude that a greater diversity in vocabulary is the noble goal.
Also, in related news, proof reading kills creativity.
"While the Khaki Kuttas remain largely confused by the incident, the untimely death of this vagabond has left the popo eager to collar these elements. SIP Balachandran of the North West Delhi Police Force has said that the full attention of his best pigs will be bought-to-bare on this investigation"
For any people ruled against their will for hundreds of years by a foreign crown, one can only imagine what connotations the word "Royally" might carry in the (un)faithfully adopted local lingo...
Rascals, crooks, goondas, rowdy sheeters, and politicians can certainly hoodwink the innocent masses from time to time. But only a monarchy can screw an entire nation for generations. Indeed, when it comes to getting screwed, "Royally" is one of the undisputed heavyweights of the hyperbolic kingdom in Samosaland.
When a situation is sooooo dire that an appropriate modifying adjective is required to described just HOWWW majorly buggered one is, we call on "Royally", perhaps harking back not-so-fondly to just how downtrodden our forefathers were by her majesty's heels.
Find it most commonly served ahead of the following delicacies: Jacked, Buggered, Fucked, Screwed, Mothered, and just about any other less than ideal state of being... but how it's served is just as important.
-- Roll that "R" nicely
-- Turn at least one side of lip up in a sneer, two in a grimace is better...
-- Ball up your fist in front of you, arm bent about chest high and palm downward, and shake your fist towards the person you are speaking to in smooth meaningful back and forth moouments
B: "Don't ask da!"
A: "How was the exam?"
B: "Got jacked, what else?!"
A: "How jacked?"
A: "Oh shit!"
Because this is possibly the most taboo time of day in any good Tamilian household, where nearly every conceivable activity or expression (outside of a safe and narrow prescription) is severely frowned upon. On occasion it even seems to engender more biliousness than the dreaded "Rahu kaalam" (Time of Rahu)...
The word literally translates to an equivalent of "crack of dawn" (aka "ass early in the morning"). It is a holy meditative time reserved solely for Decency, that ought not to be disturbed with Frivolities, Creativity, or Play.
Hep daughter is about to depart for school bus stop. As she leaves home she puts on earphones and presses play on walkman...
"Kaalankaarthale Madonna music, aa? Tche tche tche. Close it!"
Boy severely stubs little toe on wooden plank left on ground by forgetful grandfather after morning Sandhyavandanam (prayers)...
"Kaalankaarthale why are you squealing like a bandicoot? Please have some decency"
Husband asks, "Sweetie, what is the date today?"
Wife responds, "What sweetie sweetie, it is almost Sankranthi! from when I've been asking you to pick up the new Deccan Herald calendar... now see, kaalankaarthale, simply so many questions for nothing!"
Husband, "Kaalankaarthale why are you fighting with me? I just want to know the date no!"
Wife, "Kaalankaarthale why are you finding fault. Have your coffee before it gets cold!"
"Kaalankaarthale, simply why are you making coffee...?"
Then for the next 12 years, you basically experience all of life in "Height Order". And good things surely come to each and yewry one of you, but they only come in Height Order.
Morning prayers? Stand in Height order! Blessings come to the shortest first, the tallest sweat it out for just a bit longer. Assembly? Yes, please assemble in height order. Going for short break? Height order! Lunch queue? Height order. Bus Lines? Height order! Bed time? Height order!
In my 13th year after initial scholastic assimilation, I was pleasantly surprised to note that I was not issued my passport in height order, nor was I served at that Andhra biriyani place in height order, and I quickly came to realize that this construct was blissfully ignored outside the compound walls.
Imagine my chagrin when I discovered that this willful disobedience also existed at my first rock concert. Useless buggers...
"Oy, chintu, rascal. How come you have asked Shyamala to see film with you when I told you yesterday only I was going to ask her??!"
"Height order, mané, height order..."
Gautham: "Again? You're always in love..."
Tejas: "But this time it's real da!"
Gautham: "Ok, I'll bite. Why this time?"
Tejas (sheepish): "Er... same reason only... STBF..."
The Counterfoil is the slip of paper on the other side of the perforations. It's the ticket to the stub, one of the two quantum coupled chits, and someone sternly holds the other. The two parts must inexorably be drawn together for bureaucratic balance to reign supreme.
Loose it and you are lost my friend. Present it promptly and the world is yours.
Doctor (also Sampath): "The surgery was a success and his body has accepted the Pig Valve. I tell you, he is a remarkable man! I am inclined to release him today itself..."
Sampath: "Excellent news Doctor! Thank you so much for everything. May I wheel him away immedaitely?"
Sampath: "Why, not. Just give the nurse The Counterfoil and you may take him at once."
Sampath: "What Counterfoil, Doctor? I have already arranged for the bill payment and everything."
Sampath: "That is all very well. But we require the chit we gave you as receipt for depositing your father."
Sampath: "Ayyo. I must have misplaced that."
Sampath: "Tsk tsk tsk. Now how will we know who you are... who he is... what is the relationship established..."
Sampath: "But I have been coming to visit him every day!!"
Sampath: "Eng bai, don't think too much of yourself. For your information, I have also come to regard him as my own father."
Sampath: "Ok listen. This is bad news. But, if you cannot produce The Counterfoil as proof of progeny, please bring in triplicate copies of both Ration Cards, School Certificates, and Birth Certificates of both your parents. Then we will release Appa."
Aiyappashivan (aka Ivan): "Sorry boss, hand bag is full, see? Trying to travel light... y'know?"
Silesh (peering inside Samsonite): "What is this nonsense! You are having one toothbrush, one jeanspant, and 5 packages of some 100 something bloody beedis. That too 501s. Can't leave one or two and take some murukkus for Meenakshi or what?"
Ivan: "Sorry dude. My band mates, Jungle Fever and Magic Frowntain, only smoke 501 Mangalore Ganesh Beedis while we are performing"
Silesh: "Eh?? Band?"
Ivan: "Yea, we are a Deatbeats cover band..."
Silesh: "Hmm. Who are The Deadbeats?"
Ivan: "A Grateful Dead cover band......"
Silesh: "Ok bye! Good thing pa! Don't think Amma's murukkus would have made it to San Francisco!"
The side joke of course is that HMT is the World Famous in India watch brand.