There is no better stress buster than meeting my Parsi school
buddies, Shiroay Kasad and Vistasp Dastur. When they are around, there
can never be a dull moment.
Though the duo belong to the same tribe, they are not exactly similar. Shiroay (at right in picture) is tall and lanky, has some hair still left on his 48-year-old head, and used to be a fine basketball player. Vistasp (at left in picture) on the other hand is thickset (euphemism for fat), sports a bald pate, and never really excelled in anything but a game called softball, which only he and the PT master played.
Today, on the school buddies’ Yahoo groups, my two favourite Bawas occupy the south and the north poles. They never see eye-to eye on anything. You can bet your last rupee (make that your last 100 rupees. What value does a rupee have anymore?!), that if Vistasp says “Hi”, Shiroay will say “Bye”. If Vistasp says it is a cold day, Shiroay will say it is a hot day. You get the drift?
Just the other day, Shiroay posted a message on the group which proclaimed that it was the Italian mafia in the USA that had done away with Osama. The post backed its claim with the appointment of a certain Leon Panetta, son of Italian immigrants, as the new CIA director on April 28, 2011. Vistasp’s predictable response was: “What a load of bullshit, Shiroay. Just cut the crap!”
Shiroay is married, Vistasp is a bachelor. Hence, whenever things get a bit boring on the groups, Shiroay’s shrill message will read: “Lets get this Vistasp married off, before he becomes old and grey.”
As a corollary almost, Vistasp, impressed by some Parsi cooking website, posted this rather senti message on the groups: “Friends who want to see me happily married and with the ardent hope of eating some delicious ‘Parsi lagan nu bhonu’ (wedding food), sorry to keep you waiting. I am choosy about my life partner, who isn’t?!So till the big day arrives, visit this website and dream of some delicious, patra ni machi, sali ma gosht, and lagan nu custard!” Shiroay promptly replied: “Saale bhudde, abhi koi milega nahin shaadi karne ko!”
In recent football games that our 40-plus brigade has indulged in on our school grounds, Vistasp has always been in the goal (not because he is Oliver Kahn, but because he does not like to run) while Shiroay (ya, you guessed right) has been the rival striker, loving every single goal that he has pumped past his old friend Vistasp.
Recently, Vistasp sent me a mail on the groups, which read: “Belated Happy Birthday, Rahul. Sorry, have been away from the computer. I skid on the bike and got a minor fracture on the right foot meta tarsel. Am okay, but have the foot in straps. Not allowed to walk much till the first week of March.’
Shiroay responded quickly: “Jawaanike shaukh, budhaape mein karne ka natija. Kal pick up karoon kya. Breakfast Yazdaan mein karenge.”
Through the week, they might fight, they might curse. But my two Bawas friends can always be found breaking bread over their favourite, Zoroastrian Akuri at the Yazdaan Cafe at Sarbatwalla Chowk in Pune Cantonment every Sunday morning at 9am. All’s well that ends well.
Though the duo belong to the same tribe, they are not exactly similar. Shiroay (at right in picture) is tall and lanky, has some hair still left on his 48-year-old head, and used to be a fine basketball player. Vistasp (at left in picture) on the other hand is thickset (euphemism for fat), sports a bald pate, and never really excelled in anything but a game called softball, which only he and the PT master played.
Today, on the school buddies’ Yahoo groups, my two favourite Bawas occupy the south and the north poles. They never see eye-to eye on anything. You can bet your last rupee (make that your last 100 rupees. What value does a rupee have anymore?!), that if Vistasp says “Hi”, Shiroay will say “Bye”. If Vistasp says it is a cold day, Shiroay will say it is a hot day. You get the drift?
Just the other day, Shiroay posted a message on the group which proclaimed that it was the Italian mafia in the USA that had done away with Osama. The post backed its claim with the appointment of a certain Leon Panetta, son of Italian immigrants, as the new CIA director on April 28, 2011. Vistasp’s predictable response was: “What a load of bullshit, Shiroay. Just cut the crap!”
Shiroay is married, Vistasp is a bachelor. Hence, whenever things get a bit boring on the groups, Shiroay’s shrill message will read: “Lets get this Vistasp married off, before he becomes old and grey.”
As a corollary almost, Vistasp, impressed by some Parsi cooking website, posted this rather senti message on the groups: “Friends who want to see me happily married and with the ardent hope of eating some delicious ‘Parsi lagan nu bhonu’ (wedding food), sorry to keep you waiting. I am choosy about my life partner, who isn’t?!So till the big day arrives, visit this website and dream of some delicious, patra ni machi, sali ma gosht, and lagan nu custard!” Shiroay promptly replied: “Saale bhudde, abhi koi milega nahin shaadi karne ko!”
In recent football games that our 40-plus brigade has indulged in on our school grounds, Vistasp has always been in the goal (not because he is Oliver Kahn, but because he does not like to run) while Shiroay (ya, you guessed right) has been the rival striker, loving every single goal that he has pumped past his old friend Vistasp.
Recently, Vistasp sent me a mail on the groups, which read: “Belated Happy Birthday, Rahul. Sorry, have been away from the computer. I skid on the bike and got a minor fracture on the right foot meta tarsel. Am okay, but have the foot in straps. Not allowed to walk much till the first week of March.’
Shiroay responded quickly: “Jawaanike shaukh, budhaape mein karne ka natija. Kal pick up karoon kya. Breakfast Yazdaan mein karenge.”
Through the week, they might fight, they might curse. But my two Bawas friends can always be found breaking bread over their favourite, Zoroastrian Akuri at the Yazdaan Cafe at Sarbatwalla Chowk in Pune Cantonment every Sunday morning at 9am. All’s well that ends well.
No comments:
Post a Comment