The Don

 Speechless in Elevator

I get along with little children. The toddlers kind of love me because I whistle at them, clap my hands and make funny faces. When they feel comfortable and smile, I extend my arms and when they come walking towards me like drunken men, with their squeaky shoes making funny sounds, I pick them up, throw them in the air, catch them and twirl around. Once the action stops, the kiddos start giggling and crave for more.  This connect has never failed me ever… not ever. For once, however, I faced a rather difficult situation.

It was a Tuesday afternoon and I was returning from the market after buying a box of chocolates. These were for the participants of a training programme that I was to conduct the next day, something which I always do to bring fun into the sessions. For my earlier programmes, I had given away Five Stars or KitKats. To bring in freshness, this time I had bought a box of Fuse chocolates. This box had a very different look and the shopkeeper put it in a white plastic bag that was semi-transparent. As I entered the lift, I encountered a young mother with a three-year-old girl. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and pressed the buttons for our respective floors. I smiled at the little girl who looked at the packet in my hand. With a grim face and a heavy voice, the kid said…Chocolate! It was not a question but a very affirmative way to say… you have chocolates in your hands. 

Yes, beta. 

This was a sealed box of chocolates for my work place. One for each of the participants.

She was not listening to my explanation and this time roared…Chocolate do…

It was a no nonsense and forceful way of saying, I don’t care, just give me the chocolates. The way she said it was like someone putting a gun to your head and saying…your money or your life….

The mother pulled the kid away from me but this one was of a different kind all together. She was simply Un-Put-Downable. She wriggled out of the mother’s grasp and rushed towards me and once again snarled and shouted…. Chocolate do!

By now the lift had reached the 10th floor and the door opened for the mother and child to exit but the kid put her finger on the switch that keeps the door ajar and once more made the demand.

I thought that it would be better to open the packet and hand over a few pieces to this ‘bandita’ and save myself any further threats and embarrassment. For I had never been reprimanded like this for a long time. Last I remember my mother and some of my school teachers scolding me in this fashion. But the mother of the kid added- Please don’t give her. Her teeth have all gone bad. She forcefully pulled the kid out of the elevator and the door closed and I reached the safety of my home.

D opened the door and said… why are you looking so pale? I narrated the whole incident who started laughing aloud… a kid just terrorized you…. I can’t believe it! 

Yes… you are right. For those twenty seconds, I was completely zapped. But I feel bad for the kid. I must buy her some chocolates and give it to her today. D readily agreed. And so, I went down again to buy two big bars of Cadbury’s Silk chocolates. I thought this would be a good way to repent by giving big bars to the girl and her elder brother. This time I insisted on packing them in brown paper envelope to ensure no one could see what was inside and make another demand. 

After my evening walk, I requested D to accompany me to the kid’s house while I handed over the chocolates and she agreed. I pressed the doorbell and held my breath as I saw the house help open the door with the little girl in tow. As I extended my arm to hand over the packet, the maid said…. The parents are not home. Please do not give this to me. I cannot accept this.

I agreed to what she said and was withdrawing my hand when the little one charged at me and made the loudest voice… Mujhe chocolate do.

The maid forcefully pulled her back and shut the door quickly and saved me from being mauled. D was witness to this encounter and she once again had a good laugh at my expense. Next morning, I was sure the kid would have gone to school and I took the lift down one more time, this time even more terrified than before as I rang the bell. The mother came out and I felt somewhat relieved. Despite her protests, I hurriedly handed the packet and rushed to the safety of the lift… I said to myself….jaan bachi toh laakhon paye….

After a week or so, I met the girl’s father and jokingly told him about the incident. The father laughed and said… Meri beti Don hai!

I could not agree with him more. 

Main Hoon Kaun…

The next story also involved a kid, one who was just six months old and the parents wanted to celebrate the ‘annaprasan’ or the rice ceremony. It was a happy occasion and we thought we should definitely go. What caught the attention of was the address on the invitation which got D thinking… actually overthinking. It read... Di Don October Housing Society. The word Don made the antennas on her head turn blue and red intermittently like the flashlights on police vehicles. 

She first did a Google search to confirm that the sender had sent the correct address or made an error in typing. A quick search and the details of the building and pictures popped out…. Hmmm this is a stand-alone complex which has recently been redeveloped. That was her first observation. 

Why will someone have such a strange name? I am sure the local dada or goon would have done the redevelopment and named the building as Di Don. 

But why October? I asked.

It maybe his birthday month.

Sounds illogical but anything is possible nowadays.

Maybe, he is developing a set of twelve buildings in the area and naming one after each month of the year. 

You may be correct for in Mumbai the only activity that is happening is redevelopment of houses. And the land sharks are the real Dons of today.

You will not take your car for the function… she said sternly.

Why not? It is a Saturday morning and the traffic will be less. With you wearing a silk saree and me in kurta-pyjama, it will be more comfortable to drive down and we will arrive in spick and span state.

No, means no! The Don’s gang will be around and by the time you have had your celebratory lunch, you might find your car missing. You are a retired man now and you cannot afford a new car now. 

Since the screening of Pink, I have understood what it means when a woman says No. So, for the sake of maintaining peace and harmony at home, I agreed to take an Uber. 

On the appointed day, we took an Uber cab and reached the Don’s lair. It was a pretty nice building but D examined the place from right to left and top to bottom before entering the lift where she asked… Did you see any shady looking characters?

No, not at all. I did not even see the other buildings named JFMAMJJASND. 

What’s that?

Possible first letters of the Don’s other buildings named after the remaining eleven calendar months.

She was not amused at all.

The anger gave way to smiles as we enjoyed the ‘annaprasan’ ceremony, blessed the baby and his parents, met the other guests there and enjoyed the sumptuous lunch. We then bid goodbye and came down the elevator where we booked an Uber. The wait for the cab was about ten minutes. 

By now, having interacted with the people at the ceremony, I had come to know that Don in Marathi is ‘Two’ and Di was the literal translation of ‘The’. In short, it meant that this society had been named in respect of the Father of the Nation whose birthday was celebrated each year on second October. D by now had walked up to the security guard stationed at the entrance and asked most innocently… Where is the Ek October Housing Society?

The poor fellow did not know what to answer but said… Yeh Gandhi ji ke naam pe society ka naam rakha hai. Yahan koi Ek October society nahin hai.

I was in splits…She was still unconvinced… What is there to laugh? Who names a housing society as The Second October?

I have seen Tees January Marg in Delhi but this truly is new to me as well.

It is almost fifty years ago that Amitabh Bachchan’s movie Don was released and I saw it twice on the same day at a theatre in Delhi. I got reminded of an oft quoted dialogue from the movie that says…Don ka intezaar toh gyarah mulkon ki police rahi hai (the police of eleven countries are looking for Don). I smiled at my luck of having found him twice in Mumbai recently.

SS