Dud Sea Scrawls The Writing, clearly, is not on the wall!

Depending on the name you use to call out to me I can tell how long you’ve known me. Like an old bookmark jammed between the pages of time I discover my past when someone calls me “Rana”. That’s what I was called by my parents until I was old enough to be sent to school.

Then my aunt had a baby when I was 4 years old. I became “Rana-da”. When he was a little older, my cousin protested and said that I had no right to be addressed as “Dada” (literally meaning elder brother in Bengali) since I was ONLY four years older to him. There had to be at least a five year difference to qualify as Dada. He had a history of making up arbitrary rules like this. He did it when we played cricket. Insubordination had to be quelled. So I walked off to protest before my uncles and aunts who interrupted their adda session briefly to rule in my favour. I came back and announced the verdict to him. He made a face but succumbed to collective authority. The other day I picked up the phone to hear a heavily accented, “Happy New Year Rana-da.” And I knew it was him because only he refers to me that way.

The day I went to school, I got the right to use my family name.

Himesh Reshmaiyya’s song is blaring on the FM channel. The cabbie waits like a child trying to join friends who are skipping rope. Unsure of where he will join the song. He tries to copy the master’s own sound in some spots but the lyrics move too rapidly for him. He waits till Himesh sings the bit that all of us wait for, “eNk baaNr aaNja aaNja aaNja aaNja aaaNja aaNja aaaN”. That gives us all a chance to sing. Happy that he sang the only part of the lyrics that he could decipher my cabbie shifts to digging his nose while holding the steering wheel with the other. I gently remind him that he needs to drive faster. He ignores me. He has just struck gold in his nose which he retrieves delicately and flicks it out of the window carelessly while looking away. After an endless stream of nasal products - no not the song, the other stuff, I am finally dropped off at the airport.

My kids have known this always. My wife always sides with them. So she does too. I denied it for a long time and pretended to love it. But today I am announcing it. I do not understand rap.

Why was it called Salaam Namaste?
Overall Rating: Watch it on DVD. Read the review to find out why

The doctor’s office called me last Friday about scheduling my annual medical check up. I don’t like it when they do that. I must be on some kind of telemarketeer’s list.