It happened many years back when he was around 5 or 6 years old. ‘Senior KG, Division B’, he says. It was a hazy morning and he was getting ready to go to School. He loved School. It was fun and he could meet all his friends. His real friends that is! It was the time when he could just be himself.
He had curly hair then, which his father would try to straighten out by pinching his cheeks in a fish-mouth shape and then try hard to straighten it out using the family comb. I say the ‘family comb’ because everybody used it...his mother, father and his grandparents too. But not his sister. She always had her own things, which was good in a way. It avoided a much dreadful sibling fight.
Coming back to the story (I have a bad habit of drifting away quite akin to roving around in dreams), he held his Mom’s hand and was led out of the house. School was a five-minute walk from where he stayed. It was the journey along which made it feel like an hour. Not of the boring sort but in the most amusing way. A child’s mind is free of all malice. It is as pure as the white drifting clouds which forms sundry shapes as it pleases. Curious to the extent to kill a cat nine times...and imaginative enough to know the secrets of the Universe. So, thus every morning, he walked hand in hand with his mother and experienced the joy of the outdoors. Something which only he knew. Out of the house and he hopped on the stairs...Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday but no Sunday as Sunday was a holiday and then onto the sea-road from the footpath-land he leaped and swam across the road to enter the tunnel of darkness where he said his greetings to Lucifer the dog with the wagging-tail and onto fresh sunlight again by the side of the main road wherein people crowded him and it was difficult to breathe so he sank deeper into the water and breathed from his gills. Then he passed the muchad panwallah who was a good man since he always gave him free candy (but made a mark in his Dad’s account) and then the snip-snap of the Gentleman Saloon whose owner was a lady in a burkha and by the Apna Bazaar medical shop which said was 24 hours open but closed at night and by the Preetam Photo Shop with the magical paintings which gleamed three different portraits from three different angles and all the while as he held his mother’s hand and tried to keep pace, there were people growing taller and taller and cars zip-zap-zooming by. Different colours and merging into black and white and oddly vaporising in grey mist. Got the drift, people?!
Finally, he approached the famous Parel flyover (and this is where this story gets this stimulating title!), and felt the urge to pee. He naturally couldn’t tell this to his mother for he was instructed to pee always before stepping out of the house and there were some things that these all-knowing grown-ups did not understand and one of them was that the bladder does not work on time-table. School was still many steps away and with the morning prayers and the daily moral story of the principal, he was sure to wet his pants by then. So he closed his eyes and let his penis grow like the magic beanstalk. Away it grew itself and in time it was as large as the Parel flyover itself. The Bombay motorists who always keep looking at creating their own new roads started driving over it to get to the other side. Ambassadors and school-buses and five six seven people on Bajaj scooters wheeled their way over the Penis Flyover which ended at the public sauchalay where our hero was busy reliving himself.
Thus my friends, he was lightened off his misery. There are other versions of this story wherein supposedly he helped extinguish a raging fire on the other end of the flyover with his golden spray but that frankly is pure exaggeration. Its like adding some extra mirch masala to this story. But what I have revealed here to you is true because I was there on first-person witness basis.
Dear ladies, please note that there is no need to be much excited as his pee-pee doesn’t grow in size in the need of the hour now. He was a kid then, naive and thus free from the sordid flux of this dastardly world.
That’s all for now folks. So long.
MM
