He was an out and out Bohemian

Here is the twenty ninth unforgettable character in my life …

There is hardly anyone who has not met at least one Bohemian in his lifetime. This Bohemian friend of mine was a freelancer – he had a small screen printing outfit and would go around collecting orders for visiting cards or marriage cards or labels. He was sincere to his profession but he had a drawback. He had never learnt cycling, therefore he could not ride any scooter and had to use his feet. When the distances were large, he would hire an auto rickshaw.

Since our city had an abundance of small scale industries, he was never short of orders. He faced problems when he bagged large orders – at that time he would recruit temporary hands, mostly girls. Their relationships were always master-servant types, nothing closer than that.
Our paths crossed when we decided to print Bengali books and magazines from Nashik through computers. He arranged for the Bengali fonts through his contact and also the facilities of data entry. We used to meet in his room – it was always in a mess. We would suggest that he get married and settle down to a regular life but he would laugh it all off.
He did have a try tried at writing stories but the results were not that great – he wanted to be a rebel and would insist on his special style of spelling. It was a style that no one accepted in those days but is gradually coming into vogue today!
Anyway, when circumstances forced our magazine, our paths parted – our meetings became less frequent and, one day, we came to know that he had finally got married. Only – she was a divorcee with a kid. She used to help him in his freelancing business and had trouble with her husband. They would fight and, finally, she took the extreme step of separation. My friend gladly accepted her.
We met after a long time during one of the Durga pujas – both he and his wife had come to the puja pandal. He had purchased a brand new car and had a driver – he has not yet learnt driving the car.


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Didi’s idea - deflate tyres to punish unruly drivers (satire)

Didi hates rash driving and unruly drivers and, in spite of her instructions, there are rash drivers who get involved in hit-and-run affairs and land up with blood on their hands. Some of them do not survive the accidents and, in spite of roadside hoardings advising them of safe driving, they just do not bother and end up either in the hospital or in the morgue.
There was pin drop silence in the room as Didi entered.
Seated with grim faces were her trusted lieutenants Patro Chatto, Omit Misra, Dee Wreck, Moo Cool, Fear Had and Show Van. Only Abhi Shake was missing – he was in the Bell View hospital, recuperating from the effects of rash driving.
No, he was not behind the steering wheel. He was an occupant of the car and was lucky.

‘Have you released the circular?’ she asked her administrative officer.
‘I have drafted it,’ he cleared his throat and replied.
‘Is it applicable for both two and four wheelers?’ Didi wanted to know.
‘Yes. And also for three wheelers.’
‘Three wheelers?’
‘Yes, the auto rickshaws. They must also be reined in. Today one of then behaved badly with my daughter on her way back from school.’
‘Have you made helmets compulsory for two wheelers?’ she asked.
‘Yes. We will revive the no-helmet, no-petrol rule. Plus - seat belts and air bags for four wheelers.’
‘Good,’ Didi seemed satisfied. ‘And, to enforce discipline, I want to punish those who do not toe the line. My punishment will give instant results.’
‘You mean the police will book them on the spot?’
‘No. That takes a lot of time.’
‘Then what is your punishment?’
‘Hawa nikal doh. Take the air out of their tyres,’ Didi said.
‘But who will do that?’ Patro Chatto gulped and asked. ‘They are all rowdies.’
‘What Patro,’ Didi chided him. ‘Instruct the local clubs to position their members at every petrol pump and deflate tyres. They’ll not refuse and do it gladly because I give them annual grants for their chai and singaras.’ ‘Sorry,’ Partro said. ‘I did not think on those lines.’
‘Didi is great,’ Dee Wreck quipped. ‘She thinks of everything.’ (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org


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