BANDRA (7): The Catlick Girls Preservation Society

With due apologies to the NETWORK, before I start out this blog and I am well aware of the consequences of my actions…

I have recently uncovered what you can call a conspiracy within the network. Many of you may have suspected it for a while and even doubted its existence… but it is true. For those of you who don’t I have decided to put my entire future and family name on stake to write this one… so make sure you learn from this and pass it on those naïve people out there…

There exists a top secret society of Catlick Women, brewed by the NETWORK for that ideal ‘happily ever after’ experience. They are perfect by themselves in every way. But it is not until that final day when you (the poor unsuspecting groom) realize that this wasn’t the deal you signed on for and you soon become conscious that long-term overseas contract you got recently doesn’t seem ALL THAT BAD!

The Catlick Girls Preservation Society is as secret as the Freemasons Society, with the true origins of it starting out right from the birth. Throughout her life her mother and/or other members of the network then bring up the girl. They are brought up around the 11^th commandment, which states:

‘Thou shalt HAVE A LIFE only after marriage’.

The following qualifications ‘must be satisfied’ by the time they reach the ‘marriageable’ age

· Look and maintain themselves to be unconditionally beautiful.

· Attend Stitching and Cooking/Vegetable carving/ Cake Baking classes.

· Learn to ‘JIVE’ by the age of eleven.

· Must read in church every Sunday and during Bandra Feast at least once at the Mount in the Novena week.

· Attend Choir Practice Sessions every week and must sing at the Mount at least in Holy Week every year.

· Must have read the Bible ‘at least’ once in a year starting from their ‘communion’ year, when they receive at least half dozen Bibles as gifts.

· Must have gone for piano or singing classes and performed at the Parish Talent contest.

· Never ever ever sip any form of Alcohol/LIQOUR! , Until their wedding day.

· Never ever watch a XXX (Blue!) movie, unless the cable guy shows it on Channel 33 at 1am every Friday night and you have a TV in your own bedroom.

· Never ever go on co-ed overnight picnics to Gorai as the boys only want to do ‘hanky-panky’.

· Never ever go to Discos (before you are married or engaged), so that you may not be influenced by others to actually have some fun!

· Never wear vulgar/fashionable clothes that might just show a hint of leg or worse still cleavage!!

· Learn to bargain in the bazaar by the age of thirteen.

· Must have cooked their first Chicken curry for Christmas Lunch by the age of fourteen.

· Must have prepared a full course meal for ‘guests’ including Russian Salad, Meatloaf, Lonvas, Wedding Rice, Sorpoteal, Vindaloo, and Fruit salad with custard by the age of sixteen.

· Learn to remove stubborn stains of clothes using RIN and Robin Blue.

So at the end of it all (the courting with or without the network chaperone, the planning, the wedding ceremony, the lavish party at the Bandra Gym where Candies catered…, the honeymoon in Maldives), you walk into the kitchen one hung over Sunday morning, innocently ask for a nice hot cup tea to eat your fugias with, she turns around with her oil stained batik nightie, her face as red as a baboons arse, snarling like Dirty Harriet, she pokes a red hot spatula in your face and says with her clenched teeth:

Go Ahead...Make My Day...B*tch !

BANDRA (6) : Beware! You Are Being Watched...

A Long Time Ago in Bandra… before Bill Gates and his team of nerdy engineers came up with Networking for Windows, before the existence of Servers, the Internet superhighways, emails, GPRS, WAP, mobile phones, coaxial cables, Big Brother, spy satellites and CCTV.
There existed the Aunties Network…

A network so intricate, so extremely well connected, so efficient and so fast, it would put today’s best broadband and wi-fi connections to shame…
No one can ever escape the network, rest assured from the time you are born to the time you are six feet under, you will remain under their surveillance. Some are even spoken of afterwards, depending how extreme your case file is.

So let me break it down to the basics…

WHO (are they?): They live amongst us and all around us. More often they are heard rather than seen. You will never recognise one when you see them because they blend in pretty well.
No one knows for sure, how many of them exist in the network as some may work as consultants.
One thing we can be sure of is that they are always related to or are somebody’s sister, mother, or grandmother who knows you and your parents. This may sound a bit harsh but the truth is that many of our mothers may have already joined in under pressure from the Council of Elders.

WHAT (are they about?): Keeping the Catlick youth of today away from the vices, Matchmaking, Gossip and keeping up-to-date with the lives of everyone on/in the street/colony/parish.

WHY (Do They do it?): Boredom, Assumption its their god given right to set things right, For the sake of the Catlick community and the local parish, Duty Free gifts from the NRI boy they found a wife for…

WHERE (Do they operate?): Mostly In the bazaars, in the churchyard after the daily mass, Ladies Sodality meetings, in the cash lines in State Bank of India and Citizen Bank, in the house of the deceased after the funeral, at the cross feast parties in the Square, at months mind parties, during the ‘jive’ sessions at weddings when they are sure that there is no one around as all the youths are on the dance floor…

HOW (Do they operate?): Mainly through word of mouth, the old Bakelite MTNL telephones and now with technology catching up …mobile phones and even emails…(who knows maybe blogs are next…?)

You should be afraid…be very afraid!
You can run but you can’t hide…

- You think there’s no one around when you sneak behind a tree to take a drag of a cigarette…. Look Again! …Even if you manage to finish it without getting spotted…you will run into them down the street before you had time to buy the mints and one whiff will tell her how many you smoked and she might even specify the brand…

- With the trend of the now ‘happenin’ discos…playing trendy retro catlick hits, they have even infiltrated those places (where sweet homely girls and shy little mommas boys could go and order a double Jack Daniels and coke, tequila shots, lit up a fag and dance obscenely with each other…)

- Think you can get jiggy in the car on some lonely street with lots of tree cover…they will be there… ‘Returning from the market’ or taking their daily stroll.

- Even after you marry the one ‘they’ chose for you and decide to immigrate to another country far away from them, they have their connections there too and will probably know that your wife is pregnant even before you do.

- If you think you’re too tough for them to affect you and actually manage to give them a piece of your mind, you will be branded either ‘all or one’ of the following by the end of the next day’s mass…Drug addict, Alcoholic, Wife Beater, Pervert/Womaniser, Retard and for the ladies…the one and only but painful… ‘Slut'

So the next time, you step out of your house …and are thinking of doing something bad.
Remember their theme rap song, recently 'remixed' to keep with the times…(may it send the shivers down your spine)

Doong Doong Doong Dududoong Doong!
-Alright...Stop... Collaborate ... And Listen...
-Aunty’s here with a brand new section...
-Break it down... One Time...
Whuckka whucka woom whucka woom!

-We strain ourselves to get all the news...
-From the cross feast parties...
-To what’s scribbled on the church pews...
-We know who’s sick, who’s dying...
-Who’s just joined Mary’s Clan...
-We even know about dat lady from dere who’s seeing another man...
-We will keep you informed no matter what...
-Specially about dat obscene doctor who just got caught...
-We roam the villages for topics to cov(aa)...
-But the best bits We get are after the daily mass is ov(aa)...
-So my dears, we promise to keep you in touch...
-With all the gossip you miss out on so much...

Wooing and The Thrill Of The Hunt (2) : The Curse Of The Committed Man

(The Un-Anticipated Sequel)

Old Jungle Saying: When you take a lion out of the wild and put him into captivity, you can see him start to slowly loose the sparkle in his eyes as he starts to forget what it feels like to run wild and free…

And that basically sums up what I think it feels to be married and committed…

So what does really happen after you have committed to the Wooed One??

Are You (‘lovingly’) shunted away from the public eye and general merriment forever, to have and to hold, from that day forward, for better and worse, for richer and poorer, in sickness and health until death do you part...?

Is the curse of the Committed Man really true?

If that is the case, then we (the last of the hunters) need to start treating everything you do now until the Big Day as OUR LAST!!

And by that I mean…

Every Peg Of Whiskey we have…

Every Cigarette we smoke…

Every Night Out With The Boys…

Every Late Night Porno Viewing…

Every Boy toy we buy…

Every Woman’s butt we check out on the street…

And pray to all the gods that you get to have AT LEAST some of the wedding wine at the reception…

…That sweet, innocent girl who once shyly tried to hide her cute dimpled face from you out of embarrassment when you proposed to her on bended knee in the college canteen, suddenly gives the words ‘Who’s My Bitch Now?’ …A whole New Meaning! …

In a single guy’s universe of thought (mine to be precise), as you slowly get older and desperation (though dreadful but vital) kicks in… walking down the aisle seems like:

Walking like Sydney Carton in A Tale Of Two Cities to the Guillotine.

Walking Like Sean Penn on Death Row in Dead Man Walking

Walking Like John Coffey to the Electric Chair in The Green Mile

Walking the longest, slowest and most tragic walk of your life even though it is only a few feet long…(depends on the size of the Church of course…but if it’s a beautiful quaint little wedding chapel which your to-be wife so romantically chose, even shorter….AAAAARGHH!!!)

Talk about walking towards the light…, Whole Life flashing before your eyes… If there were any perfect moment that would be IT!!

At least the wild lion doesn’t expect it when it happens, you willingly AGREE to it, more often than other ASK for it…

And So finally in the modified words of Peter Parker (aka Spiderman)…

You tell yourself… (as you walk out of the church... hand in hand, husband and wife...)

‘ With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility…

This Is My Gift…This Is My Curse… Who Am I ?….

I’m THE COMMITTED MAN! ’

PS: Check out the above link.

BANDRA 5 : The ‘Gulfie Return’ Shopping List from the 80s

(a.k.a – The Real Middle East Crisis if you don’t buy something small for Aunty Cassie and fly…because you know how big her mouth is…)

(Dedicated to my Godfather)

Recently unearthed in the an old pant pocket in Charlotte Villa on Veronica Road was the following, (it was written on an aerogramme),

My Dear Son,

Please get the following t(h)ings when you are coming down next month :

- 1 packet pistas

- 1 packet almonds (for Aunty Mary who makes those lovely gulab jaams)

- 2 packets cloves (one for us and the other for Aunty Phelmeen (Aunty Philomena)

- 2 small packets cardamoms

- 4 Kit Kats and Mars (for all the small cousins)

- 5 Toblerones (big ones)

- 2 Cadbury Fruit and nut (one for Sundri the servant and the other for Dhondu the gardener)

-1 22carat gold name bracelet (for Uncle Johnny’s Son…so much he helped us during Maryanne’s Wedding when he was the best man, putting the pendoll up and all)

- 2 small scent bottles of Prophecy Eau the toilet (one for me, and the other I can give to Aunty Lizbith ( Aunty Elizabeth)

-1 small bottle of that Cobra perfume (for Ralph, Cassie’s son-in-law)

- 2 boxes of Yardleys powder

- 1 bottle of Drakkar Noir scent

- Some Thomsun Original Cassettes of the latest dance hits

- 1 big bottle of Kraft Cheese spread

- 2 bottles of olives with dat red thing in the middle (we can put that Amul Cheese with them on the toothpick and offer then if anyone comes home to see you)

- 4 packs of those Kraft Cheese singles

- 3 packs of that ‘red cow smiling’ cheese triangles (good for breakfast no...?)

- 1 Casio Calculator watch (for Dalton…who works in State Bank)

- 2 sets of Faber Castell colour pencils (for the nieces)

- 1 ‘automatic’ (you know the one with the buttons to open) pencil boxes (for your godson)

- 12 Camay Soaps (for Ann’s Contract Bus friends…)

- 1 bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label or J&B whisky (for Wendell)

- 3-4 ‘dinky’ cars (for the nephews)

- 2 bottles of Brut aftershave (one for Eustace and the other for Walston)

- 1 packet of those Gillette throwaway razors (for Easdon and his brother)

- 1 bottle of Mango TANG and 1 bottle of Peach TANG (Don’t worry about the Mango one we may get it in Crawford Market so I can give it to Aunty Clitta…she won’t know the bleddy difference)

- 1 small National two-in one cassette deck (for Uncle Anton who got you the Gulf Visit visa in the first place…God Bless Him)

- 2 packs of Huggies Diapers (for Carls new baby)

- 2 cartons of 555 cigarettes (one we can give Lionel and the other to Savio…so much he was coughing that day for the Kyle’s communion… still he was smoking…)

- 3 packs of Maggi Chicken cubes (5-6 cubes we can give for Asha the fisherwoman)

- 7 Scotch-Brite Sponges (for Patsy’s in-laws we can give a few)

- 2 Head and Showers Dandruff shampoo

- 1 Tiger Balm (for Aunty Loveys’s bad back)

- 3 Dubbhas Of Nivea Cream (for Cassie’s granddaughter, Aunty Marie’s daughter and me)

Don’t get too MUCH stuff for US…ok…but just get these ‘few’ things for these people …only because you are coming for the first time…otherwise you know how people talk…

Love

Mummy

P.S: Please Say Your Three Hail Mary’s Everyday

The Old Wise Man Speaks, he does..

On reaching the 28th year of my life, I have decided to share a few of the lessons I have learnt in my short but colourful life. Living almost two lives , one in Bombay and the other in Aberdeen has taught me a lot, so I wanted to put down a few words of wisdom to my fellow countrymen that would put even Yoda to shame...

• Whenever you are going out clubbing on a Saturday night, and there is a slight chance you might hook up with a beautiful woman there... never wear your longjohns !
• Never try using British Slang to sound cool in a conversation, because sooner or later your Bombayia accent will slip out , especially when you least expect it to.
• Never try out the Blazer-Tshirt-Jeans-Sneakers look...Just because it worked for Jay Sean doesn't mean it will work for you!
• Never attempt to be Scottish and wear a kilt in public, your legs are too skinny and hairy!
• Never go to the toilet to take a piss, when you are cooking a spicy curry!
• You will NOT look as good in a lambswool sweater as the Scottish model in the magazine advert!
• No matter how much of Axe/Lynx deodorant you spray on yourself, IT doesn't do what it says in the advertisments... partly because if you are an Indian living in the UK, in an unventilated house, your jacket will always carry a slight whiff of last nights curry!
• Never ever laugh at the fat police officer who is trying to get over the wall to bust your New Years Eve party at 4am!
• No matter how good you look, how well you dress, how well you get along with the ladies, how rich you are or in which part of the world you are currently living in , your mother and a few obscure aunties are still lining up a few 'homely girls' for you back home!

Wooing And The Thrill Of The Hunt.

Man is a natural born hunter. We need to stalk our prey, plan our approach, lay out the bait, wait patiently for the exact opportunity to strike, sight it between the crosshairs, pull the trigger and finally bag your catch…..
Which according to me can be applied to wooing a woman. Now, there is a lot more to that statement than what is written. What I mean is all the physical and mental torture which goes on behind the scenes during the hunt…the adrenaline pumping, the heartbeat racing, the hands trembling moments, the hair pulling moments, the face blushing moments, the sleepless nights and the stomach churning anxiety…sometimes making you just want to give it all up and run away. Not to forget, all the questions which start crowding your head - Will I get it or Wont I? If I do this…what will be the reaction?, Maybe I shouldn’t do that …, If I do get it , Then what should I do ?, Should I plan what to do after I get it now or should I wait and see what happens first and then plan ahead ?. Whatever it may be, all of this boils down to it being ‘ THE THRILL OF THE HUNT’. Something that once your trophy has been finally acquired…and your life is finally sorted…well…you miss it!

In the beginning, as a teenage boy, you start to learn how to hunt, you make a lot of mistakes initially i.e. you may get a crow instead of the duck you were actually aiming for (everyone knows this one as we have all been there). There are times when you suddenly find some old photographs and say to yourself… What the hell made me do that back then? …
As time goes by, you learn from those crucial mistakes and you begin to improve…
Your aim improves… so does your agility… your technique, your intellect and… your stamina…
As you reach your early 20’s, many stick with what they have already captured, others start to get desperate to find some, while some are in just in it for the sport and don’t mind hunting sometimes as often as a new one every week.
Push back a few years later…you come to realize that the hunters out there can be now to specifically classified into 4 types:

1. There’s the dedicated one, who knows exactly what he wants once he sees it and goes precisely after it until he gets it.
2. There’s the desperate one who hasn’t really made up his mind about anything and just tries firing shots in the air, hoping to get lucky and hit something.
3. There’s the sneaky one …who like a hyena prowls on other people’s already bagged prey.
4. And finally there’s the fourth orthodox one… The kind who doesn’t even try to get his hands dirty so he prefers that his parents get him his ready packed frozen steak from the local supermarket, in which everything you need to know is already printed on the label, i.e. the brand, the weight, the price and the expiry date.

But what ‘does’ happen once all the excitement has died down, once you are satisfied, once your life returns back to normal….

- Do you sit in your armchair, staring blankly out of your window with your Scotch on the rocks and dream about those days?
- Do you often take on a young apprentice and watch him then chase such magnificent and noble prey, which makes you now feel like such a loser?
- Do you sit down at your local bar and narrate stories of your exploits to anyone who would care to listen?
- Do you often get tempted to get in just ‘once’ again for old times sake?
- Or are you just sometimes now just driven to the edge, in which you are forcefully or willingly put back into the game?

Whatever the consequences of the hunt may be, every moment of it should be savoured like there is no tomorrow because at the end of the day, nothing is more worth it than someone for whom you have really fought for and for whom you have done everything possible to get her to fall in love with you….

Oi, Kiran ….Get Me One More Whisky Soda …..!