Thursday, August 4, 2011

LIFE IN A (ALMOST) METRO


      I recently moved to Baroda, a developing Tier 2 city in Gujarat. When I left Bombay, I had no idea that I was not only moving to another city, but I was also moving back in time. That is because when I left Bombay it was monsoon, and when I reached Baroda, its summer. Now in case you belong to the irritating breed, you might argue with me that there is also a possibility that I have rather moved ahead in time. But buddy, I moved from Bombay to Baroda, and hence I’m sure I have moved back in time.

      The Rain God of Baroda is apparently too busy playing Garba to come and pee over the city a bit. Whatever little pee drops we do receive are I guess the ones that leak when he is hyper-excitedly gyrating to the Pankhida song. I’m not saying that he should develop bladder control issues like the Rain God of Bombay, but we would all be grateful if he occasionally peed upon us. If he doesn’t comply soon, we’ll just have to make him drink two cups of coffee and then make him sit in an air conditioned room, with the temperature at 16 (high-five if that reminded you of your coaching classes during graduation days).

The Barodians in fact have become so cynical about the rainfall that they continue with their plans on even the cloudiest of the days without an umbrella. Now don’t judge me for using ‘Barodians’ here; that’s what the Red FM RJ calls them. And if you actually think about it, ‘Barodians’ sounds like one of those people belonging to the Ancient Greece period. Just imagine this in a Fox History documentary being narrated by Alec Baldwin, “During the Ancient Greece period, the Athenians and Spartans were largely at war. But this enmity ended because of the Barodians. It so happened that the rulers of these three powerful states of Greece once sat to sort their issues. The King of Baroda had summoned this meet, in order to mediate between the other two Kings. But the matter got resolved even before the discussion could start when the King of Baroda pronounced ‘war’ as ‘wore’. The other two Kings shared a hearty laugh together, as the King of Baroda went ‘Su thayu? Su thayu?’”

      A few weeks later a messenger from Persia, who looked African for some reason, came and asked the King of Baroda to surrender. The King walked him towards a well, yelled ‘THEES EES VADODARA!!!!!!!!’ and threw the messenger in the well by pushing him with the horse around his waist in his Navratri costume. Later all Barodians played Garba around the well.”

      The King’s mouth was stuffed with Dhoklas then, which is why Baroda came out as Vadodara, and that is how the city was renamed.”

      The reason I moved to Baroda is because I wanted a better life. Living in Baroda, or any other Tier 2 city for that matter, gives you a good work-life balance, and hence you get some time for yourself. Bombay is just a garbage bin made of gold.

      Life in Bombay was nothing but wake up, almost die commuting, work your ass out, almost die commuting, dinner, sleep, wake up,… Life in Baroda is wake up, play a round of Garba, have breakfast, reach office, play a round of Garba, work, leave for home, meet friends, go to gym, play a round of garba, have a nice long dinner with family, watch a round of Garba on TV, go to sleep, wake up… In short, living in Bombay wasn’t giving me enough time to waste. So when I got a better job opportunity in Baroda, I took it.

       My close friends have always looked out for me, as we share this deep caring and concern for each other. They always keep worrying about my well-being, which is why the first thing they asked me when I reached here was, ‘Dude, how’re the chicks?’

      Here today I give the answer to all such poultry related questions asked by my friends: There are no girls in Baroda; only men and Taliban.

      If you think I’m kidding, please feel free to come down and see for yourself. All you will find is heads mummified with dupattas and eyes covered with glares, on top of what appear to be female bodies, riding Activas (which apparently is what they call each and every scooter over here).

      So in case you’re still wondering why the hell I moved to Baroda, continue to do so while I take a ride in my Activa.

      *Sits on a Harley Davidson and leaves*

4 comments:

  1. True dude,
    life in Bombay is damn hard, and twice as hard in mosoon........happy for u dude (execpt for the chick situation)

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  2. Bombay is better than Mumbai. you love your daily dose of garba dont you?

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  3. It was a kiiler dude....specially your daily routine in Baroda (lotssss of Garba)... this has also made me to think....why gujratis love Ectivaaa so much???

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  4. Hahaha :D !!! dude WHO LEAVES BOMBAY :O :O ! but yeah i actually get the need for time to waste :( , but what fun is time wasted alone :P
    I hope the rain god also rains some chicks soon !

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