The dreaded disease has brought relief to a lot of people I know because of social distancing and home quarantine, especially due to another virus that spreads boredom and ennui, the dreaded ‘Coronus Darabsus’. Over time, there are many other cognomen (nick-names) I have received, such as ‘God-help-us Darab’, ‘Darab Pipyu’, ‘OMG’, and so on, but this one takes the cake. There are many who avoid me, much like the COVID-19!
Take for example, my brother-in-law – Baji Karko aka Baji-the-Broke, who always runs his fingers through his scanty hair upon seeing me and utters OMG. “OMG, Darab! What a shoc…. Err…a a surprise to see you here. “All’s well at home? By the way Darab, that money (a couple of grands) you lent me at the racecourse on last year’s Derby day, I remember it… don’t worry, you’ll get it soon. At the moment, jara market tight che! Saaru thayu tu mane malyo. Ek tenner hoi to I shall be grateful. These buswallas will not change two-hundred rupees note, the smallest that I have. Thanks, till we meet again!” (That’s what I dread!)
Then there is my editor. She too goes ‘OMG’ upon my Good-Morninging her. She goes, “Darabsha! That ‘Bikini Beauty Contest’ you covered on Sunday, before this social distancing came in, has flooded me with lots of complaints about your eyes almost burning holes in the bikinis!”
My argument did not hold much water that I was examining the material used for the bikinis, and inquiring about the cut, the design and also trying to find out the name of the designer. My dedication, unfortunately, is much abused! “Darabsha, tamaru dedication toe I know! Now, no more roving eyes. Jara bhanva-ghanva per dhyan aapo! If there is anyone who needs social-distancing, it’s you, Darabsha!!” I distinctly heard her call the human resource guy to ask him, “Aapra Darabsha kahre retire thaych?”
Even en famile it is just as bad. C’est tout aussi mauvais, it is just as bad. I am the mauvais sujet, mauvais erroné… a bad topic. The moment they see me, the inevitable OMG pops up in their mind and they let it slip all the way down to their tongues too. Especially my niece, whom I dote upon! This one is a linguist and speaks French fluently. Ever since I spent a few days in Paris, I have tried to speak French with anyone and everyone who had once studied French, in high school and never thereafter. I speak to her like Maurice Chevalier, so that I could help to improve her lingua franca, but somehow, she finds my Parsi-French accent rather embarrassing! My granddaughter too avoids me, because I try to help her, “Chaal darling, jara French revise kariye!”
Yes, I am the persona non grata amongst my cousins too. My very own cousin, Cavas, casts aspersions upon my erudition every time we meet. He’ll usually comment something like, “Su, Darab! Tari madam editor has not yet seen through your sciolism obfuscating the hoi polloi with all that superficial knowledge of yours. Ha, I am just being facetious. Don’t take umbrage my dear old chap”. “None taken old goop!” I would say. Damn it! Who the hell does he think he is? Shashi Tharoor??
And then there is yet another cousin, Lovji, who’ll always greet me with, “Aav maro pipyu Parsi, Aaje aapra ghar-e kem bhulo pario. Su taro stock puro thaigio.” I would let out a dignified “Hrumph!” retorting, “I have enough stock of the Scot’s good gift to the humanity, and I imbibe no more than a peg after sunset. Actually, I’ve brought the parcel of Billimora-ni-levti aapra Sakarfui has sent. Te aapva aayoch!” Being otherwise a pleasant chappie, he would then say, “Chal let us have a peg, a Parsi peg now!’
To tell you the truth, my home is a lovesome place. My wife has a little nook all by herself. I have my own room. We practice social distancing to our extreme satisfaction. She has her own TV to watch inane serials. I would not be caught dead viewing them. I listen to my old classics – Beethoven, Brahms, Mozart and great operas and arias. Not her cup of tea. She is happy with her “Choli ke piche kya hai” and the likes. She cooks, we eat. She prays; I play. She is happy. I am happy. Surprisingly, both at the same time! Ah! C’est la vie. Even madam editor leaves me alone. Her mails only wish me to stay well and safe. And maintain safe distance from the office. C’est rès gentille de vous madame!
Ah, c’est la vie!
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