By Robert Clements
Of Potholes and Umbrellas..!
Not getting too many invitations to go out, I was pleasantly surprised to get one for a dinner and decided I’d need a good umbrella as the monsoons were quite relentless. I decided to go over to the umbrella store and choose a good sturdy one to beat the monsoons. I was a little surprised to see a much wider range than they had the year before.
“Are you a wrestler sir?” asked the pleasant looking salesman inside the store.
“What difference would that make?” I asked equally pleasantly.
“The wrestler umbrellas have extra strong steel ribs inside that are able to withstand a lathi charge, especially if you decide to protest against someone high up in the government,” he said without a change in his pleasant face, “and instead of cloth we use tarpaulin to withstand water cannons when they try to drive you away from your place of protest!”
I told him I wasn’t a wrestler, and we moved into the interiors of the shop, “Would sir want a transparent one or one which will safeguard his security?”
“I wonder what security there is to safeguard in the rains!” I laughed and the pleasant looking salesman laughed with me, “I assume sir is single?”
“Why should you assume that?” I asked a little crossly.
“Ah, then if your madam walks a little close to you in the monsoon, or if sir accidentally holds her hand, the moral brigade who are now swarming our country will immediately lynch you as a love jihadist!”
I told the young salesman that my wife and I kept a decent distance between us even during the rains, “And we don’t hold hands in public,” I said crossly.
“But sir you have a beard!” said the owner coming quickly as soon as he heard my raised voice.
“So what?” I shouted.
“You could be mistaken for a terrorist, so don’t take a transparent one, or you may be arrested by the police!” said the owner and the salesman smiled at his owner, looked at me and nodded in agreement.
“Maybe I’ll take the one that isn’t transparent!” I squeaked and the pleasant looking salesman smiled his approval as his boss went back to the counter.
I thought for a moment, stared at the umbrellas, then decided I’d choose a raincoat instead, after all raincoats I was sure did not have such conditions attached, so quietly walked out without the umbrella and into a shop selling raincoats next door.
“Do you want a thin plastic type or a canvas one sir?” asked another pleasant looking salesman.
“Ha, ha, ha!” I laughed, “Even you have conditions don’t you?”
“What do you mean sir?”
“No, I’m not a wrestler to beat the water cannons or moral brigade and no my beard will not identify me as a terrorist!” I said laughing hysterically. “Isn’t that why you asked me what type I wanted?”
“No sir! Just to beat the monsoon rain sir!” said the salesman and looked at me strangely as he packed a raincoat for me.
Later in the evening I started for the dinner I’d been invited too.
“For a change, don’t just stare at your hands!” said the wife as I left, “Talk to people!”
I decided I’d do just that and luckily found everybody was talking about potholes when I reached the venue. “Very frankly,” I said, “I can’t understand the hue and cry about potholes, and believe me need to congratulate our government for allowing us to keep these fissures and craters for such long periods of time.” I told the man sitting next to me at dinner, and was startled to find it was the umbrella shop owner.
“Why?” he asked startled.
“Look at today’s party, what do you think everybody’s talking about? Potholes of course! Listen to those at the next table!” We both leaned across to listen:
“I just encountered two potholes on the way here,” said the pretty young thing to a millionaire.
“Two? I’ve left my car behind in one of them!”
“What car is it?”
“A Mercedes!”
“Are the front seats comfortable?”
“You’ll have to check that yourself!” said the millionaire.
“Let’s go!” whispered the pretty young thing as they both left the party to try out the front seats!
“Now just imagine,” I said to the umbrella man next to me, “what these two people would have done if potholes did not give an opening?”
The man quickly moved away and another took his place. I decided to continue, even though I did look like the raincoat shop owner, “There’s so much excitement in potholes,“ I said.
A friend of mine who spends most monsoons climbing the Himalayas told me, “Bob, there’s adventure right here in the city, you fall into a pothole and like mountain climbing, your whole life is at stake! You’re not sure you’ll come out with broken limbs, malaria or cholera. No mountain could ever give such adventure, such danger. From now on its the potholes for me!”
I continued, even as the raincoat shop owner moved away and the host came to me and I continued, “An American who got off the International Airport told me, “You guys are into water sports in a big way huh? I need to warn our Olympics team about this! With so many swimming pools you chaps should walk away, sorry swim away with the gold!”
“Potholes,” I continued to the host, “helps make us a hardy people. Be always grateful to a government who year after year have helped produce strong, tough countrymen! After a ‘falling in a pothole’ episode, our people are able to handle overcrowded buses, accident prone trains, lack of pavements, unhygienic slums, overflowing garbage, flooded roads, communal riots, flash strikes and bomb blasts!”
Suddenly I realized that the two people standing next to the host and looking at me strangely were the umbrella sales man and the raincoat shop owner. They both helped the host put my raincoat on and led me to the main door, “Why are you throwing me out?” I asked.
“Looks like the rains have clouded your brain,” said the host as he and the other two slammed the door after me..!
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