Turn the page

Scores have perished
In the lust for the bust
Yet another brother
Officially bites the dust.

Yesterday, somewhere around the crack of dawn, a Continental flight inbound from New Delhi made a safe landing on the airstrip of Newark airport and a horde of passengers streamed out, some heading towards the baggage claim area, others towards domestic terminals to catch their connector, while the “racially pretty cool” ones towards Customs and Immigration. Amongst the sea of travelers was a brown man sporting gelled hair and a look of brightness that would belie the weariness that usually comes in the wake of a journey spanning thousands of miles and almost one whole Earth-day.

That hint of sparkle, that extra spring in his step was borne out of realization of a looming change in his marital status. A telepathic person, after translating Bhojpuri into English, could almost hear our man constantly repeat this in his head – “You ain’t gonna use your hand no more! You’re gonna get laid soon!!”

Yes. As we all know, Bhaiyya is one small step away from joining the ever-growing club of single Indian men who are losing their (awfully prolonged period of) single status faster than ever imagined before. The scorecard now reads:

Pushkar Pulastya        b Cupid (lock, stock and below his barrel)
Years: 29
Balls: 2

I can foresee myriad changes in Bhaiyya’s life, hereforth. I can picture him coming home from work, possessed and intoxicated with an aphrodisiacal cocktail of testosterone and oxytocin (one word description - "love"), switching the tube on for recreation and reaching for the remote to turn closed captions on. The American Idol is on and fortunately, he is saved just in time by a commercial break. A Dove ad appears on the screen and with a swish of the wand, no pun intended, Bhaiyya is transported back in time. “Dove” morphs into “Jai” soap and his senses fondly cuddle with a melodic jingle:

Pehla pyaar, Laaye jeevan mein bahaar, Pehla pyaar
Jab tan ko choo-aye, Jaise baatein kare, Pehla pyaar....

With one eye twitching ala “Mungerilal”, he gets lost in his world of imagination. The dulcet tune now shifts gears to one with a faster beat and a sense of purpose. He lets out a gentle smile, his eyelids close and music fills his ears:

Bol sakhi bol tera raaz kya hai
Kya hai teri khushi ka raaz,
Tu bata de mujhko aaj,
Garbh nirodhak goliyaan
Mala-D hai mera raaz

I’m sure the waves of change would cause significant amends to the Winamp playlist on his computer too. Gone are the days of Metallica and their energy and angst, it’s time for Altaf Raja to echo Bhaiyya’s emotions thru this Grammy-deserving number:

Tumse kitna pyaar hai, Dil mein utar kar dekh lo,
Na yakeen aaye to phir, Na yakeen aaye to phir,
Dil badal kar dekh lo

I don’t know the extent of how deep Cupid has entrenched the arrow in his heart but this brilliant Bappi Da's creation might also be in the list of probables:

Pyaar bina chain kahaan re
Pyaar bina chain kahaan re
Sona nahi chaandi nahi pyaar to mila
Arey pyaar kar le

Prior experience tells me Mr. Pulastya is slowly going to develop a seething hatred for Alexander Graham Bell’s invention. I have advised him to buy a stirrup to rest his hand on during marathon sessions, unless of course, he’s holding the device with the hand that has “exclusively” developed muscles over the years much like a tennis player’s serving hand (The only difference is the muscles on his hand have no correlation to Tennis whatsoever!). And considering what’s going to transpire in those talks, I suspect he would need to use his prejudiced muscular hand anyway; so stirrup is going to be the likely solution. A couple of weeks down the road, Bhaiyya would be found calling Verizon customer service, “Uh hello, do you have a plan that could give me 6500 daytime minutes per month??” Phone conversations are gonna be served with generous helpings of flirtatious remarks in Bhojpuri:

“Aapke saath baatein karke bahut sahi-sa lag raha hai…bas ab Maee (“May”, in English) ka intazaar kar raha hoon!”
“Ajee itne natkhat bhi na bano”
“Abhi se hi humse darogi bhagyavaan, to phir shaadi ke baad kya hoga!!”

Getting hold of Bhaiyya on his cell is going to be harder than determining the paternal identity of Anna Nicole Smith’s daughter.

Premonition and indiscriminate usage of Kantiesque allusions aside, the truth of the fact is - Bhaiyya has finally shed his skin of singlehood. I saw a couple of pictures last night and indeed, the couple looks very good together - my heartiest congratulations and best wishes to both of them. Apart from hoping our man doesn’t compel Bhabhi to dial 911 on their first night, I also sincerely hope they have a great marital life ahead.

Take it easy, brother!