Lemons, Lingerie and Litigation
My bro got married last week. As the post-wedding activities dwindled down to waving goodbye to the last guest, the aunty union was in fervent search of a new project. I was relaxing on the couch when the union got its aha moment – target spotted! Not wasting any more time, they quickly brief me about an all powerful neighbourhood ‘Guruji’ – a soothsayer with the strike rate of Andrew Symonds in T-20.
“You have to consult him. He will make sure that you win the court case,” comes the voice of the union, and with it the collective confidence in his powers. Hmmm... so this Guruji not only predicts the future, but also makes sure it is favourable...presumably even overruling the high court’s decision if need be. Good stuff! But I think I’ll pass.
Reluctant to leave the comfort of the couch, I give the aunty union 15 reasons as to why I don’t think it is a great idea to see the Guruji, but they shoot it down with 16 high-pitched reasons. So, I end up going to see his holiness, the neighbourhood Guruji...the likes of whom Gandhi Bazaar had never seen before.
For some odd reason, the Guruji doesn’t stay put in one place. Being the mobile cat that he is, a few calls had to be made by the aunty union to track this man down. The union quickly hands me his coordinates and pushes me out the door to come back a wiser man, a man who knows where he is headed – or where the Guruji wants him to head, as the case may be. I look out for the aura of his holiness to guide me, but no such luck...or maybe my spiritual quotient isn’t that high to spot one. Anyway, I follow directions and get to the master’s camp for the day – a store on DVG Road.
I double-check the location (and double-gulp) before stepping in, ‘cos the store in which the Guruji had camped had a distracting display of lingerie. Clean thoughts, clean thoughts...I requested my mind, clean thoughts for the love of God, clean thoughts. Holy cow, but clean thoughts in a lingerie store?
“You have to consult him. He will make sure that you win the court case,” comes the voice of the union, and with it the collective confidence in his powers. Hmmm... so this Guruji not only predicts the future, but also makes sure it is favourable...presumably even overruling the high court’s decision if need be. Good stuff! But I think I’ll pass.
Reluctant to leave the comfort of the couch, I give the aunty union 15 reasons as to why I don’t think it is a great idea to see the Guruji, but they shoot it down with 16 high-pitched reasons. So, I end up going to see his holiness, the neighbourhood Guruji...the likes of whom Gandhi Bazaar had never seen before.
For some odd reason, the Guruji doesn’t stay put in one place. Being the mobile cat that he is, a few calls had to be made by the aunty union to track this man down. The union quickly hands me his coordinates and pushes me out the door to come back a wiser man, a man who knows where he is headed – or where the Guruji wants him to head, as the case may be. I look out for the aura of his holiness to guide me, but no such luck...or maybe my spiritual quotient isn’t that high to spot one. Anyway, I follow directions and get to the master’s camp for the day – a store on DVG Road.
I double-check the location (and double-gulp) before stepping in, ‘cos the store in which the Guruji had camped had a distracting display of lingerie. Clean thoughts, clean thoughts...I requested my mind, clean thoughts for the love of God, clean thoughts. Holy cow, but clean thoughts in a lingerie store?
Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
The Guru is not in the trademark saffron or white garb, as one might’ve expected. But hey, not everything was going as per normal expectations. He was sitting towards the back of the store, where you’d probably find the really expensive, ‘imported’ items to arouse the hairy, middle-aged men of Gandhi Bazaar. As I head towards the Guruji sitting in the backdrop of a dozen posters of lingerie models, he points to a chair. I quickly take a seat and try hard to stare at the one thing that’s least interesting in the store – him. He asks me a couple of questions regarding the litigation and starts praying. Excuse me, but the only prayer in a lingerie store is ahem...forgive me Lord, for I have sinned.
He asks me a few more questions about other things in life, and shuts his eyes again. A few murmurs are uttered aloud, mostly for my benefit I think, for the setting might lead one to believe that the dude ain’t praying. After a long pause, he opens his eyes and says “You will win the case, I’ll get it done for you.”
I’m like “What? Excuse me sir, you’ll get it done? Thank goodness! I’d have made an expensive mistake if I’d hired Ram Jethmalani. Thank you Guruji.”
Not stopping with the prayers, he hands out 5 lemons to me with specific directions on which ones to consume, which ones to put under the pillow and which ones to slice up and squeeze into my eyes.
The Guru is not in the trademark saffron or white garb, as one might’ve expected. But hey, not everything was going as per normal expectations. He was sitting towards the back of the store, where you’d probably find the really expensive, ‘imported’ items to arouse the hairy, middle-aged men of Gandhi Bazaar. As I head towards the Guruji sitting in the backdrop of a dozen posters of lingerie models, he points to a chair. I quickly take a seat and try hard to stare at the one thing that’s least interesting in the store – him. He asks me a couple of questions regarding the litigation and starts praying. Excuse me, but the only prayer in a lingerie store is ahem...forgive me Lord, for I have sinned.
He asks me a few more questions about other things in life, and shuts his eyes again. A few murmurs are uttered aloud, mostly for my benefit I think, for the setting might lead one to believe that the dude ain’t praying. After a long pause, he opens his eyes and says “You will win the case, I’ll get it done for you.”
I’m like “What? Excuse me sir, you’ll get it done? Thank goodness! I’d have made an expensive mistake if I’d hired Ram Jethmalani. Thank you Guruji.”
Not stopping with the prayers, he hands out 5 lemons to me with specific directions on which ones to consume, which ones to put under the pillow and which ones to slice up and squeeze into my eyes.
This is it! How could I’ve missed it? This miracle citrus fruit will solve everyone’s problems. Who needs legislations and lawyers when we have lemons. Go on vitamin C, save the world!
As I step out of the store, I can’t help but think that if has decided to send out powerful messages and magic in a fruit, then at least he could’ve handed out melons and done justice to the lingerie models...geez!
As I step out of the store, I can’t help but think that if has decided to send out powerful messages and magic in a fruit, then at least he could’ve handed out melons and done justice to the lingerie models...geez!
Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned!
