BANDRA (10) : T'is The Season

I had initially planned to write this and put it up in early December, but I needed to get into the Christmas Spirit to get motivated. So I now sit in Aberdeen Airport writing this on Christmas Eve, waiting to go to London to spend the long weekend with some friends.

No matter how Christmassy it feels here, with the shop windows overflowing with decorations, the High Street all lit up with huge glittering flashing lights, marching bands playing carols in the malls and streets, Winter Fairs selling crackling pork roasts, real Christmas trees, ginger bread biscuits, hot roasted chestnuts and hot chocolate, people bustling around with bags filled with gifts shopping till their wallets run dry…(Recession, what recession?), since it isn’t HOME, i.e. Bandra; my Christmas Spirit doesn’t feel that complete.

So, what are those small, quirky yet humble facts that make up Christmas in Bandra for me?

·The kids from the colony/neighbourhood getting together on weekends from early December to make up a huge Star made up of long flexible bamboo shoots and colourful crepe paper to be hung up in between the buildings.

· Aunties causing chaos in the material shops in Elco Arcade and the tailors all around Hill Road and Bazaar Road.

· College kids sitting around one Catlick bugger with a guitar singing Christmas carols in the canteen on a slightly cold and sleepy Saturday afternoon in December.

· Listening to the ‘Boys’ (who are actually men well into their 40’s and 50’s) from Mary’s Clan, coming around with their acoustic guitar and the occasional harmonica and accordion doing ‘sort of’ in tune but very warm hearted versions of all our favourite Carols.

· Guys buying bad jewellery or perfumes for their girlfriends as Christmas gifts.

· Girls buying bad ties or deodorants for their boyfriends as Christmas gifts.

· Wives buying short sleeved polyester shirts for their husbands as Christmas gifts.

· Husbands giving the kids some extra money so that they can sort Mummy out with something for Christmas in his name.

· All the men from the building society who never speak to each other except at the Society meetings ,trying to synchronize together to put up the fairy lights on the trees in the compound with long bamboo sticks sticking out from each of their respective balconies.

· Mothers staying up late at night stirring the thick, creamy milkcream sweet in the copper-based aluminium vessels and then pouring it out for their mothers to mould it into various and designs.

· Fathers taking leave during the last two weeks in December and then going on a DIY rampage to get the walls and window grills painted, the front door and the furniture polished and new curtain rods and curtains put up all before Christmas Eve.

· The rush of people to Pinky/Parry/Deepaks Wine shop at 8pm on Christmas Eve and 11am on Christmas morning to stock up on the booze for the days to come, often meeting people you only meet at that same place and that same time every year and act like you’ll been best friends for years.

· Doing the last minute dash to Cambridge or Check-Up to get a shirt and a tie to match for the suit for Midnight Mass.

· Waking up on Christmas morning with a slight hangover from the couple of drinks you had with the boys after Midnight mass to the smell of Stuffed Roast Chicken, Pea and Raisin Pulao, Sorpoteal and Vindaloo wafting through the house.

· Standing out in the balcony after the heavy Christmas Lunch, enjoying the silence on the roads, anticipating the blissful afternoon nap to follow and the commotion soon to start when everyone starts getting ready for the Christmas Parties and Gymkhana Dances in the evening.

· People getting totally confused towards the end of the Christmas Dance especially after a few drinks of whether to wish someone ‘Merry Christmas’ or ‘Compliments of The Season’, because ‘technically’ Christmas day has passed and if you do say Merry Christmas past 12am on the 26^th, you will be corrected by a young snooty woman wearing a tight silky golden brown ‘frock’ elegantly covering all her naughty bits while staring down at her mousey boyfriend who is wearing a ugly cartoon tie, has been forced to ‘jive’ all evening and is still recovering from the previous night’s hangover.

I hope this ‘Christmas Special’ Blog warms your heart and fills you up with as much of the Bandra Christmas Spirit and Cheer as it did me writing it all these miles away.

MERRY CHRISTMAS ALL!

BANDRA (9): If Webster was from Bandra…his ‘book’ would have been thicker…

For the past few months, I have been actively trying to promote my blog and Bandra ‘internationally’, hence the six months hiatus.
There are however many gaps to be bridged...

One of the first things which I have noticed that always seems to bring people from different races and cultures; closer together is Abusive Slang.

So, as a start to what may become a long list of beautifully articulated words and phrases, here’s the Bandra Abusive Slang all spelled out:

Bugger: Used to refer to ANY and EVERY one you know in Bandra.
‘Not utilized’ in the Homosexual context as most of the world does know it but used as meaning ‘fellow’ or ‘chap’.
· Has also been improvised into ‘Bloody Bugger’ (still staying away from the homosexual reference here) and is used here in more abusive context.
· Can be used as a verb as well e.g Mario buggered up my car…
It does not mean that Mario did ‘naughty things’ with the car’s exhaust but simply means that Mario has damaged or ruined the car’s engine in some ‘other’ way.

Ballrag: This verb means 'to get furiously angry'. Commonly used in the past tense

e.g My wife was futaye ballragged 'cos I forgot our anniversary.  


Chaunt: Stupid Irritating C*^t, a combination of these three powerful words here, makes this one very heartfelt.
This word was used around a lot in the mid 1980’s but died off slowly towards the end of the century. I am hoping it makes a comeback.

Fourjack: Similar to a Chaunt , but slightly less irritating and more stupid. i.e. a dumbf**k

Fod : (pronounced fo(r)d) A lot less irritating than a Fourjack but a lot more dumber.

Your Grandfathers/Grandmothers Jambuls/Pears/Brinjals/Various other fruits and vegetables: Translates as ‘Are you crazy?’…Often used as a reply to an illogical solution; providing a modest yet vivid description of the person’s grandparents genital regions.

To Rape One’s Happiness: Translates as being told off firmly by someone in a higher position than you and therefore getting your mood down for the rest of the day.
e.g My boss will rape my happiness if I show up late for work today.
· Can also be used the other way around if you are the one in the position to do the raping.

One Tight Slap: When slapping a person in Bandra, it should be spectacularly done or not done at all, therefore it should be ‘TIGHT’, i.e. forceful.
· Similarly, you can also ‘wafrao’, ‘raptao’ or ‘futkao’ him.

Please feel free to let me know if I have left out any, as these were the only ones that came to my mind at the time of writing this...

But remember they should be 'local and as pleasantly abusive as possible...

Otherwise I will rape your happiness....!

BANDRA (8): Your Fadders B***, What? ...

(I mean blog...you filthy-minded people... ;-) )

Ever since the Catlick mudders post , I have been meaning to make it even by paying due respect to the men for whom back in the day, all it took for us to get back on track were the words ' Wait... Till your he gets 'ome... and I'll tell him what you did'.
We knew that when he 'did' get home from work, he would take a hot shower, slap on tons of talcum powder, change into his vest and shorts, pour a nice Scotch , half smile and grunt in your direction , grab a handful of salted peanuts to munch on and switch on the News....
But we would still go ...'NOOOOOO ! I swear I will never do that again!'
Yes! Its everyman's mentor, every woman's knight-in-70%cotton-30%polyeseter armor!...The Catlick Fadder!

But, doesn't every Father...

- Seem like he doesn't have the slightest sense of humour , but when he's with the boys on Poker night, turns into Robin Williams!

-Come into 'their' element when it was time for the family holiday and go into 'logistical' overdrive. Sometimes equipped with a small scribbled notebook in which everybody's schedule for the next 5 days has been planned.... Right! 8am-Get out of bed,Breakfast, 9am- Walk on the beach, 10am-Women-go Shopping!, Boys- Swimming... But daddy I want swim too , No! Go with your mother...otherwise we all go home!

- Spend the whole week working in the office, but on the weekend...still get up early, have a big breakfast and jump right into his D.I.Y self-inflicted projects, which after happily doing for 5 hours , moan about wasting his precious weekend on this shit!

- Have more fun, with his kids electronic toys then they do, usually starting with the words...'Wait! Let me show you how its done first....' ..... Chaaa! Not that way.... Give it here! again... Let me show you again!

- Keep Sunday Afternoons the way it was written in the Bible.....'sacred'! Kicking back with an ice-cold drink, a classic Spaghetti Western movie, a wholesome roast lunch followed by a nice long nap!

- Make all hell break loose, if woken up during his afternoon nap by some unfortunate salesman.

- For his children's sake, sit down for the family rosary, but when its his turn, Yawn, Sputter, Grunt and Mumble every word out , only getting 'perfectly audible' for the last Amen!....causing his wife to turn back and snarl silently with flared nostrils...

- Have more in-depth conversations with his son-in-law than with his son, sometimes going to the extent of sharing a drink of his 'special stuff'.

- Not shed a single tear or show any sign of saddened emotion, the day his only daughter gets married, but later that day, wreak havoc in the lives of the caterers, the decorators, the MC and his son's drunken friends.

PS: Dad, I hope the house papers are still signed in my Name , After this ....