It’s massage time and - after meticulous surfing to arrive at common ground - the masseur and I have ‘Johnny mera naam’ playing on TV. Premnath, the evil Zamindar, has been holding his brother hostage for years now. This brother is the adopted son who their father had bequeathed the entire estate to; for, unlike Premnath, this brother was a good son. Naturally, Premnath wasn’t too pleased with the decision and decided to take corrective measures. In the current scene, Premnath earnestly and self righteously explains to his brother : “पता नहीं किस अनाथ आश्रम, किस नीच ख़ानदान से तुम हमारे यहाँ चले आए। तुम कैसे जान सकते थे कि ख़ानदानी रहिसों की क्या फ़ितरत होती है.....कि रुपया उड़ाने की चीज़ है और जवानी ऐयाशी करने का एक ख़ूबसूरत मौक़ा? ऐसा क्या कर दिया मैंने जो मेरे बाप, दादा, और परदादा ने नहीं किया......और मुझे जायदात से बेदख़ल कर तुम्हें रायसाहब की गद्दी पर बिठा दिया गया?” “पर ये तो पिताजी की मर्ज़ी थी।इसमें मेरा क्या क़सूर था?” the tortured brother protests. “तुम्हारा ये क़सूर था,” Premnath replies, “की तुम बहुत अच्छे आदमी थे। और मेरी हर बुराई इसलिए नज़र आती थी कि वो बुराई तुम में नहीं थी....” Premnath goes on but I’ve broken into peals of laughter. The masseur is taken aback. The look of shock and disgust is clearly apparent on his face. He’s taken my laughter as categorical endorsement of Premnath’s views. I make no effort to put things in perspective. I guess all of us have a little bit of Jim Morrison in us; the Jim Morrison that delights in shocking people. But now on second thought, it appears I should’ve acted differently. It’s not prudent to rub your masseur the wrong way. He’s better skilled at that art than you are.
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AuthorSachin Jha. Archives
October 2020
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