Happy Diwali everyone! Normally, Diwali is a festival that I do not like much, mainly because our upstairs neighbours, who, for security reasons, I will call the upstairs neighbours, celebrate the slaying of the ten-headed demon by bursting pataks continuously from dawn to dusk for three consecutive days. For the uninitiated, pataks are little explosives that make a loud noise, and are probably the reason that a large portion of the western world thinks that Indians are terrorists.
Diwali is a happy time in Bangalore. Here, we celebrate all festivals with the same lack of religious intentions and so Muslims, Hindus and Christians freely light crackers, eat sweets and rejoice in the government holiday together. Since Dad left for Saudi Arabia, our family hasn't gone in much for the whole fireworks thing, as we now lack a Manly Man to lose the matchbox at the beginning, burn himself with wax several times trying to light the candle, and caution us in a deep, gravelly voice to be careful of the chakras. But, we have bought a box of sparklers and plan to twirl them around listlessly for a few minutes tonight, while our other neighbours, who spend as much as 10,000 rupees on fireworks at a time, shake their heads at 'them cheap mallus'.
Seriously, the reaction of the salespeople to Mum buying fireworks is hilarious. This is sort of how the interaction between a Malayalee and a shopkeeper normally goes:
Diwali Fireworks Selling Person (DFSP for short): Hello, Madam, how can I help you?
Mallu: Yes, do you have any sparklers?
DFSP: Certainly, Madam. What kind would you like? We have green, red, normal, assorted...
Mallu: Fine, fine. I'll take one of each.
DFSP: Good choice, Madam. (Packs in five boxes of sparklers) Anything else?
Mallu: No, no. I said one of each.
DFSP (misunderstanding): The big packs? Just a minute-
Mallu (enunciating clearly): ONE. ONE sparkler of each.
DFSP (Horrified): Madam, we don't sell them individually.
Mallu: (equally horrified) Look at the price on these things! Alright, alright, then, one box.
DFSP: (shaken but optimistic) What else, Madam?
Mallu: That's it.
DFSP (Becoming emotional): What dyu mean that's it? (looks disbelievingly at the three shopping baskets he has kept ready for his patron)
Mallu: That's all I need, thank you. (proceeds to count out money for sparklers in small change)
DFSP: Ma'am, normally people buy more than this. Did you see those trucks in our parking lot? Our Kannadiga customers brought those for their purchases.
Mallu (triumphant): And that is exactly why I don't need to buy anything! I'll just watch them lighting their fireworks from my balcony, with a sparkler in hand, and pretend that I'm doing it. All the fun at no expense.
DFSP: You people are the scum of the earth.
Must run now! I have several more hilarious things to say and I will do so at a later date when my Mom is not telling me to get off the laptop with a slipper in one hand. Happy Sunday!
Diwali is a happy time in Bangalore. Here, we celebrate all festivals with the same lack of religious intentions and so Muslims, Hindus and Christians freely light crackers, eat sweets and rejoice in the government holiday together. Since Dad left for Saudi Arabia, our family hasn't gone in much for the whole fireworks thing, as we now lack a Manly Man to lose the matchbox at the beginning, burn himself with wax several times trying to light the candle, and caution us in a deep, gravelly voice to be careful of the chakras. But, we have bought a box of sparklers and plan to twirl them around listlessly for a few minutes tonight, while our other neighbours, who spend as much as 10,000 rupees on fireworks at a time, shake their heads at 'them cheap mallus'.
Seriously, the reaction of the salespeople to Mum buying fireworks is hilarious. This is sort of how the interaction between a Malayalee and a shopkeeper normally goes:
Diwali Fireworks Selling Person (DFSP for short): Hello, Madam, how can I help you?
Mallu: Yes, do you have any sparklers?
DFSP: Certainly, Madam. What kind would you like? We have green, red, normal, assorted...
Mallu: Fine, fine. I'll take one of each.
DFSP: Good choice, Madam. (Packs in five boxes of sparklers) Anything else?
Mallu: No, no. I said one of each.
DFSP (misunderstanding): The big packs? Just a minute-
Mallu (enunciating clearly): ONE. ONE sparkler of each.
DFSP (Horrified): Madam, we don't sell them individually.
Mallu: (equally horrified) Look at the price on these things! Alright, alright, then, one box.
DFSP: (shaken but optimistic) What else, Madam?
Mallu: That's it.
DFSP (Becoming emotional): What dyu mean that's it? (looks disbelievingly at the three shopping baskets he has kept ready for his patron)
Mallu: That's all I need, thank you. (proceeds to count out money for sparklers in small change)
DFSP: Ma'am, normally people buy more than this. Did you see those trucks in our parking lot? Our Kannadiga customers brought those for their purchases.
Mallu (triumphant): And that is exactly why I don't need to buy anything! I'll just watch them lighting their fireworks from my balcony, with a sparkler in hand, and pretend that I'm doing it. All the fun at no expense.
DFSP: You people are the scum of the earth.
Must run now! I have several more hilarious things to say and I will do so at a later date when my Mom is not telling me to get off the laptop with a slipper in one hand. Happy Sunday!
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