Lobo Lobo wasn’t in the best of moods. “Arre men Dikuna, tenshun tenshun tenshun, wot to say, she’s eating my head, full bheja fry men. She toh told me to, ufffff men, sumtimes I tink, I should have married anudder dame,” my cable technician said, completely distraught.
“Slow down Lobo Lobo, what’s happened and who are we talking about?”
“See men, Dikuna men, socko problem became, as you may know dere is dis blinking Liquified Petroleum Gas issue… big big lines have formed in all de Burshane gas outlets, in down of my house dere is one HP Gas, peepuls are shouting and screaming beoz dey are not getting dere supply. Arre, becoz of dat Trump Chump fellow and de Iran lafda and dat Gulf of Hormaz… you know Hormaz, like my second-floor neighbour Hormaz Homiyar Panthaky.”
“Um its Hormuz… the Strait of Hormuz.”
“Arrey men, Hormaz, Hormmuz wot bleddy difference, problem is dey cannot pass gas.”
I smiled.
“Why smiling men?”
“Um ‘passing gas’ is funny,” I said.
“Only you would find dat humour in dese sittuashuns. Anyways so I was saying, you know dat my better half, Myrtle, is one cook, she’s a caterer, big big handis and utensils she has all over our kitchen and balcony and living room. She makes all dese Goan and East Indian dishes, dat um Vindaloo, and Sorpotel and Chirozo and Balchao and Xacuti and Cafreal and Xit Kodi and all dose curries and hole hole day, she is cooking. And dat is why I am toh always smelling like de Vinegar men — now wot has happened is dat dere is dis cylinder shortage. Uffff socko problems men, we have run out of supply of cylinders, normally we keep esstra supply, becoz dat my wife is suppling de food dishes to many homes and. Also we supply to many dose restrants in de area, to Desousa Dance Bar & Grill, Blanchilda Fine Dinning in Bhandup, and many such types, also de weddings, and shaadis, and functions, and birthdays and anniversaries, and dance parties.
Now, where I’m supposed to get cylinders from, from blinking tin airr or wot? We need at least five sissk cylinders at one one time, to make all de food, plus we need one two for me and her and my duffer son Ronaldo and all his frennds when dey come over. Dey have no kaam-danda so dey stay hole day at our house, and Myrtle makes food for dem at all all hours — and den my dotter Cindy comes at all times she flies for Catay no. All ‘satyanaas’ it is — Den Myrtle is yelling me, arre duffer Lobo if you cannot organise for me cylinders, de BMC has allowed coal and firewood. Get me coals and firewood and cylinders.
Wot she tinks I am, men, like I should go to dat place wochyoull dat Kaala Patar movie, aah, she esspects me to go to Dhanbad, she essepcts me to go inside de coal mine and get for her coal. Or like dat dose Stone Age men, used to go out and get firewood, arey men, where I’m to go? Wot I’m to do, go to Kamala National Park and take one axe and cut down trees and bring de fire wood to her to make her Xacuti?
Bleddy when you tink, dis crisis will get over, Dikuna men?
I tell you men, I really feel dat my life is toh in one whirlwind, a tornado, dey should call me LPG only… I am LPG!”
“What does LPG stand for,” I asked
“Arre Dikuna men, LPG stands for ‘LOBO PAAGAL GONE’.”
Rahul daCunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, filmmaker and traveller. Reach him at rahul.dacunha@mid-day.com