I’ll spare you the agony of reading through yet another account of the boons and banes of Modi’s demonetization and will instead share a couple of instances to provide some comic relief.
1. I was counting a few old 500 and 1000 rupee notes that were to be deposited in the bank. The brat who was watching this asks:
“Ma, is that black money?”.
2. Varun: I want the next Geronimo Stilton book from the series.
Me: Okay, but not now. No money.
Varun: Yeah, I know. You can buy me after Narendra Modi gives you.
It is well past 10 PM. Varun is trying everything in his means to avoid hitting the bed. “I’m busy”, he says when I ask him what he is up to. I get out of the bed to go and see what exactly he is busy doing. He has changed his t-shirt and is busy tucking it in, adjusting on all the sides, as much as his tiny arms let him get around himself. He has already folded up his jeans by an inch near the ankle. He runs his palm over his head, to smooth out the ruffled hair. I again ask him what he is busy doing. ‘Getting ready for bed’, he says!
Anna, after thoroughly revising Harry Potter and re-revising and planning for yet another re-revision a few months from now, drowned himself for a period into the world of Percy Jackson amidst other things. To keep his reading pattern consistent, he did a he few revisions of PJ as well. It was then the turn of Artemis Fowl to suffer at the anna’s hands. The thambi therefore is always abreast of what the anna is reading.
A book I was reading was lying on a chair. Varun walks past the book, retracts, casually picks up the book, frowns, makes an attempt to read. He does. “Ennadhu.. (what is this….)? Artaeeeemis Fowl”. Drops the book back on the chair and walks on contended.
Varun: (At around 8.00 PM) Amma, I waan tea.. I want tea..
Me: Tea? Now? Ippo poi kutti pasanga yaaravadhu tea sapuduvaala? Will any child have tea at this hour?
Varun: (thinks for a full 5 seconds before saying): Naan auto driver sir. Enakku tea kudunga! Am an auto-driver sir. Can you get me a tea?
Dad: (Rotfl-ing): Adho, tea-shop ange irukku sir (and points at a corner near a door which usually transforms into the destination of our choice, like Mambalam, Beach, Mumbai, or even a road-side tea-stall).
Our man’s face does not betray the disappointment of not having got a real cuppa-chai.. but still goes with the chimerical hot-kadak-chai and even makes a similar payment of 5 rupees after fumbling in his jeans pocket in all earnestness for a few seconds before pulling out the change!