Cards and Car Trips

Cards and Car Trips

My father goes to Chennai every Friday to meet up with old friends and play bridge at the Madras Club. .

He drives back on Friday night. Most of the time the trips are uneventful. He reaches home and goes straight to bed. He sleeps in the car too, as the traffic is less at that time of the night and the highway is smooth.

One night he noticed a lot of noisy activity on the other side of the highway divider. A man seemed to be  sprinting across the road closely pursued by a crowd. They were all shouting. A few of them had sticks and others long iron rods. The man leapt across the divider . As he did so, he flung the sack he was carrying on to the windshield of the car. It shattered, the bag broke and the contents spilled out. It seemed to be silver vessels and a few gold chains.

“What is this ?” shouted the driver as the car swerved and he attempted to regain control.

“Fling it out again “ said my father. They threw the stuff out.

The man had since crossed over and disappeared into the brushes.

“Drive! Drive!” said my father .”hurry.”The driver sped off.

“The wind is in my face, I cannot see,” said the driver.

“Doesn’t matter, here use my sunglasses”.

I really don’t know how they made it home.

I was horrified when I saw the car the next morning. The windshield was shattered and there was a dent on the bonnet. I opened the door and saw a silver diya  wedged under the clutch----.

“What is this?” I asked my father.

“I think the man must have been a temple thief---.. Any way we did not hang around to find out”.

A couple of months later as they were driving back (nothing happens on the way up) they saw a fat dark person waddling on the road. The car was moving fast, he did not move out of the way, they struck him and he went flying. The driver braked. My father went out and saw a wounded buffalo on the road. It was lowing and limping. It hobbled off. The car head light was smashed. There was a huge dent in front , but miraculously it still ran.

“”How on earth did the buffalo manage to get through the divider?” asked my father.

“There is a small gap,” said the driver.

There was some shouting in the distance.

“The villagers are coming,” said the driver, “they will ask us to pay at least half a lakh for the buffalo—after they beat us.”.

“Drive, drive,” said my father. The car sputtered off.

The car reached the house driveway and stopped. It refused to start again.

“Very good car “ said father patting the Chevy on the caved in front portion. Did not stop till we reached home!”

The car is now fixed but I don’t really trust it to take him to Chennai and back. I changed the  car (he now goes in mine) and the route (they now return via Tambaram).

All quiet on the highway front!

Visits to America

My grandson went to visit his uncle in Iowa when he was 8 years old. He really enjoyed himself. America and his uncle were the embedment of his dreams. The toys, parks, swimming pools, activities  and a i visit to Canada.

“Enjoy yourself, said his mother , (my daughter),” we cannot come back for two years at least”.

“Why?” asked grandson.

“It is very expensive.” Said daughter.

The next year (when he was nine) my son announced that he was getting married, so the family made a pilgrimage to Iowa again. This time too we decided to stay a month. After all after spending so much of money we could not really just attend the wedding and return!

We made a side trip to Mexico after the wedding. The newly weds joined us in a “family honeymoon, ”but that is another story!

Grandson really enjoyed himself. “America “ he announced, “Is beautiful. I want to live here forever.”

“You can “ said my daughter ,”if you study hard, get good marks and make it here.”

Grandson thought that was a joke.

“Will you take me to America when you go next year ?” He asked me.

“Oh yes,” I said ,”I am going during the holidays anyway.”

School started and a tussle began. He was reluctant to start his homework on time. He found every possible excuse to avoid studying Hindi. He ranted and raved.  In between he yelled at his dog since he could not really shout at anyone else.

I turned up there for a weekend in the midst of all this drama.

“You,”  Announced my daughter ,”are a disobedient boy. You are not going to America. You are not even going anywhere in India if you have this attitude. You are not even going to your friend’s house.”

“He he he” said grandson dancing up and down on one foot. “My grandmother said she is taking me. She is your mother,”(He seemed to think that I ranked higher in the authority hierarchy!). He continued, “I don’t really want to go.” He continued self-righteously,” I didn’t ask her. She WANTS to take me. She wants me to go with her. She asked me.”

My daughter said, “She can want whatever she likes. On top of her many many wants, she wants to run a full marathon in four and a half hours. That does not mean she is going to get that. Nether is she going to get your passport. It is with me.”
Grandson was contemplative and silent. He reached for the topmost book in his pile of homework and silently opened it.

Dentures Priests and Murders

We have a very efficient and dedicated parish priest. He came home one day for a house visit. He found my father lying on the sofa reading a murder mystery.

“Where is your family? “ asked the priest.

“No one is here,” replied my father, my daughter and son-in- law have gone to work.”

“You are alone?”

“Not really, I would like to be, but there are people around all the time, there are domestics to take care of me.” He leaned forward, “they are a nuisance. They sneak to my daughter.” He sat up to complain.

My father bit on some nuts a week ago and cracked his dentures in half. He was unwilling to go to hospital so he told one of the domestics to buy some Fevicol. Then he painstakingly stuck the dentures together and put it back in his mouth.  When I reached home the domestic came creepily close to me and started whispering.

“What is it? “ I asked , nervous about his proximity.

The Fevicol story was revealed.

I told my father ,”you cannot stick dentures with Fevicol. I am fixing an appointment with the dentist tomorrow.”

He protested, “on TV they said you can stick anything with Fevicol. The advertisement is quite funny.”

“You can’t believe everything you see on TV. They advertises 2 minute poisonous noodles and Pan Masala!”

He is now being taken for dental appointments.

The priest was silent.

“We  have a very good senior citizen group. They are all around your age. “

“I have crossed 90,” said my father.

“In that case you will be senior most member. We meet twice a month in the evening.”

My father asked,  “do you play bridge at these meetings.”

“No “ said the priest.

“A few hands of rummy perhaps?”

“NO” said the priest looking around for escape, “we pray and meditate and have refreshments.”

“Gin? “ asked my father , his eyes lighting up.

“NO” said the priest “coffee,  tea, a few biscuits and cake. Many members are diabetic and some don’t have teeth.” He quickly corrected himself. “They have dentures.”

“I’ll pass” said my father I will pray by myself and meditate on these murders. He indicated a novel. “I always try to figure out who it is before I reach the  end,. I face a lot of temptation to look at the last page in the process.“

The priest beat a hasty retreat. He has not come since.