Tales of Your Friendly Neighbourhood Orthodox Maami and the BOY

Its pouring here in Chennai. I've been gallavanting in the rain with great zeal and the following story unfolds on the fine evening that I zoomed into the compound of my house on a friend's bike, sitting placidly as a pillion rider and completely drenched. My friend and I walked into the house to find Mother and neighbourhood maami in deep, devoted conversation in the living room.
Topic of conversation: TTD channel and the Lord Venkateshwara of Tirupathi.
Maami (M): Very nicely they did the oonjal ceremony today.
Amma(A) Nodding vigorously : Yes, yes.
Maami(M): The closeup of the Lord is beautiful. What jewellery. So good that we get darshan at least this way. Who will go all the way at this age? (Loud sigh at the sad state of her health. Suddenly brightens up) You know that priest who stands there right next to the Lord? Supposed to be very corrupt. I think he got arrested also. But then you know how things are. He got released and now stands so close to Him.
On cue, Mummy shakes her head sadly.
Both look up as friend and I make our grand entrance. Maami's eyebrows shoot up at boy and girl walking in so shamelessly, completely drenched and smiling and laughing in the presence of elders. Mummy's eyebrows shoot up at my as-usual-perfect-timing. Friend looks very uncomfortable at all these eyebrows shooting up. I benevolently grin at everyone and walk inside, silently thanking God that I wasn't wearing a sleeveless outfit. (Tales of Neighbourhood Maami and the Sleeveless Outfit will be published shortly)
My friend stood there, debating on whether to continue through to the kitchen or turn around and run, or generally dissolve on the doorstep. I signalled to him to come through since the poor boy was soaking wet and needed a towel in the least.
I handed him a towel in the kitchen and both of us stood there along with my brother (studying at the dining table), eavesdropping on the conversation in the next room.
M (cautiously): Coming from outside o?
A (equally cautiously): Yes. They have a study group you know, preparing for exams.
M: Boy is a study friend ah?
A: Yes, yes, yes, yes. Writing exam together... (as an afterthought) only.
M: Oh I see. Looks Christian or Muslim, no?
A (uncomfortably): No no. Hindu. Only.
Pause in conversation. M seems to want elaboration on caste, creed, nakshatram, gotram of boy. A, who has no clue of any of the above of friend, wants to change the topic.
A: So, this priest you were talking about....
M cuts in. M: You know, recently only, I read an article that says more and more young girls are opting to marry their colleagues from work. Irrespective of caste and religion.
Brother at table grins at me and friend. "She's talking about you, honey. Study partner is a mere technicality in the story. He is your to-elope-with colleague."
Friend looks increasingly worried. I glare at brother.
A (from living room) : Oh, is it?
M: Yes, yes. This new culture is very bad. You really should not allow them (meaning me and friend) to come and go so randomly.
She seems to suppress adding, "And disappear into interior rooms with each other."
Brother at table, grinning some more: Should I say you are both here and not doing anything much?
Friend looks horrified. I punch brother.
A: No, no. It was only because both of them got wet in the rain. They had gone to study in another friend's house. He will go soon..
Friend in kitchen: Should I go now?
I shook my head. It was still pouring outside.
M: Hmmm. Be careful, ma. I am only trying to help you. We should never leave girls alone at this age. Best to get them married. Then they can start a family. She will be husband's responsibility.
Brother smirks. "I can imagine what a lovely responsibility you will be."
M continues: And you know, do tell her to wear salwars when she goes out with boys. These jeans pants and all can... you know...
Brother at table smirks more. "Jeans and all. Tsk tsk. Maybe you should tell her about those low waist jeans you saw the other day."
M is in full flow: See ma, I am only advising you because I know you so well. You are like a daughter to me. She is like my granddaughter. So many people in our community are misled by all these western things. I have seen so much. Look at these items numbers today. Did you see that one from Movie X? What and all they are doing. Chee chee.
Brother at table is laughing uncontrollably. "You guys want to do item numbers? I could find a suitable choreographer."
At this point, I decide to lead friend out. He looks distinctly nauseous. I give him my brother's rainjacket and parcel him out of the front door.
As I wave him out in the rain, I hear M say rather loudly: He was wearing something else when he came in. Did he change...??

The List of Good-Luck Wishers

Since I have recently been writing a loooot of exams (make that LOOOOTTTT) I have received many calls wishing me luck. I am incredibly grateful to all those who called me and who wish me well, but I also could not help but notice that all calls have a pattern. Due to my newly found love of organising things, I have categorized well wishers as follows:

The How-Are-You-Feeling caller:
This type of callers wants to do an emotional analysis of human behavior before exams. They open the call asking you how you feel and then start sub categorizing on feelings. Some options: Nervous? Excited? Happy that it will be over? Anticipatory? Anxious? How how how?
Once you finish telling them how you feel, they proceed to advise you on what to do. If you are nervous you should just chill out, if you are excited you should meditate and calm down, if you are happy... I have never felt happy before an exam, so I have never received advice on what to do :)

The Everything-Will-Be-Fine caller:
The eternal optimist. To them, the exam just has to get over for the sun to start shining, birds to start chirping and the rainbows to start appearing. Their opening line is how-are-you-feeling, and regardless of your response, they tell you All's going to be well. Just finish the exam, they say, and bliss will come. Heaven's doors will finally open. And what if you mess up? Errmmmm... welll watch the sun, birds and rainbows. They are out anyway.

The Statistics-Giving caller:
One heck of a pain. Before wishing you luck, they want to talk about the statistics. How many people are writing the exam? What is the probability of you making it? How many of your competitors can be eliminated? What is the optimum strategy to follow? They give you all this and more. If at the end of it, you want to scream, they will probably give you stats on when you will explode also.

The You-Only Caller:
The scariest according to me. The You- Only caller tells you that there is no way this exam can get messed up because You Only are writing it. Even if God comes to Earth and tries to mess with you, You Only will succeed. They make you feel like the whole world's expectations are on your shoulders. I mean, if You Only don't do well, can you imagine all the other Onlies doing anything at all? Heck, NO. And if you mess up? You Only has not calculated your marks right. After the results come, it will be perfect. They Only Know.

The Ok-so-you-are-writing-but-lets-talk caller:
These guys start off wishing you luck, but then somewhere along the way they deviate and end up talking about everything else. They don't seem to realise that before exams you don't want to discuss their mother in law's bad ankle or sister's husband's brother's surgery. Even a call to wish luck has to last for 30 minutes. God save you!

The Short-And-Snappy caller:
The best of the lot and the category most of my pals fall into. (Am I lucky or what?) Sample call:
They (T): Hey all the best.
You (Y): Thanks.
T: You'll do well. Don't worry. Give me a call after the exam.
Y: Sure.
T: Bye.
Period. I love them.
If you know any more types, let me know. Comments are always open. :)

Edit: As Mika rightly pointed out, there is also the Oh-you-had-an-exam caller: The well wisher who never knew you had an exam, and hence couldn't wish you at all :) But nevertheless, they apologise and then hound you on how the exam went. I most certainly fall under this category!

Subs also pointed out that there is The Lazy Texter. No calls at all. Just one word. ATB. :) Makes life simpler, doesn't it?

Disclaimer : I have nothing against any of the callers mentioned above. They were just an observation. Please do not try categorizing yourself (in caseyou call me!). The categories have obviously been exaggerated quite a bit too. Its all in the name of humor. Love.

Applications and Banks...

I thought I would wait for tomorrow to write this post, but I could not resist logging in to pen down my experiences of today (is it right to say pen down for a blog? Punch in sounds very um, ATMish or mobile phonish... or maybe even boxerish). I had such an, ahem, wonderful experience, that I need to get it out before the masala fades from my mind.

I think the one word that Indians associate with the government is inefficiency. And especially so when it comes to governement banks. My experience today only served to vindicate that opinion. I needed to buy an application form from the bank and since I thought it was a rather simple thing, it wouldn't take time. Hence, even though I was in a frantic hurry and incredibly short of time, I went to the bank.

I walked into the bank and as usual, had no clue which counter to go to. Normally, I just ask the person at the first counter I see and they redirect me (after glaring at me or surveying me with pity) but today, there were long lines at each counter. Ok, not lines but a general crowd around the counter. I could hardly get a look at the person behind the counter, much less ask for directions. In desperation, I asked a random person passing by where they sold the application form and she told me with disgust that she didn't work in the bank. (I don't know whether the disgust was because I had thought she worked in this particular bank or whether it was because I was the only dork who could confuse a bank employee with a normal person).

Finally, I found the counter (it was the only one with just one customer and it was located where no one could see it) and rushed to the person there.
"Application. For < >." I gasped.
The man behind the counter (M) looked at me with surprise.
M: Madam, please sit down. I need to attend to this person first. Please wait.
I: How long?
M (Decides I no longer exist and ignoring me, turns to the other customer): Sir, it says on the computer that your account has been deleted.
The customer wailed saying he had not yet closed it and was using it currently and M looked at him blankly. Helpfully he told the man: It says so in my computer records.
The customer looked like he would start sobbing at the counter and M picked up the phone and spoke for a long time. Then he told the man to wait.
In a flash, I was at the counter. "Application."
M looked annoyed. "Madam, please wait. I told you." And he disappeared.
For ten minutes, Customer and I sat on the couch, he looking miserable and me glaring at him for causing the delay. We watched M go up and down, past his seat, into various cubicles, into a room, come back to his chair, move the mouse around very significantly and then finally, he called Customer to tell him what to do.
Customer was moved greatly and after profusely thanking M and almost being pushed by me past the damn counter, made his way out of the bank.
I hopefully positioned myself in front of the counter again.
"Yes, Madam." M looked at me inquisitively. He had totally erased me from his memory.
"Application." I said, half annoyed, half pleading.
He looked at me blankly. Evidently, he didn't remember which application this was. Finally, he nodded and pulled open the drawer of his desk.
Just then a lady came into the cubicle. "Yenna aacchu?" She asked in Tamil. (What happened)
M started a long winded explanation on how the computer had been wrong and how it had shown the customer's account as non existent when actually it was very much in use. I tapped my foot, tapped my fingers on the desk and moved all over the place, but M would not budge from the monologue, his hand still on the open drawer.
After both of them had a hearty laugh and the lady dragged her feet to her own impatient customers, M finally handed over my form. I filled it in two seconds (I swear I have never filled anything so fast) and handed it over.
Then began the process of entering the application details into the computer. M banged the mouse twice on the mouse pad, adjusted the monitor and then began searching for whatever it was he needed to enter the details. He muttered constantly under his breath and with painstaking care, entered the number of the form on the keyboard.
Finally, eons after I had entered the bank, he handed over the form and the prospectus to me.
I practically ran out of the bank, just to be stopped at the door by the gaurd.
"Sir is calling you." He said, pointing in M's direction.
I sighed, and walked back to the counter. "Yes?" I said, wondering if he had entered the details wrong and would give me another application.
"Madam, you haven't given me the money."