Mamaji’s Stretcher

Was chatting with HT just now, and we were recounting the glorious winter of 2000… wonderful time those were… the huge bunch of us just out of college, holed up in a hotel right next to M G Road, and three months of absolute unadulterated fun! Now, the last time HT and I went down this nostalgia trip was when we were travelling to a wedding – that of Raheem Chacha’s sis. Mamaji was there too, and boy, was that trip a load of laughs! Here’s how things went…

Started off from Bangalore on a friday night, in a luxurious Mayuri, which btw is the best bus i’ve ever travelled on. The bus conductor was this habitually cheerful fellow, who apart from sporting a sheepish grin spent the majority of the journey trying to sell us chips and biscuits, and blessing Mamaji intermittently. You heard it right… blessing Mamaji, with his fingers curved over his palm, and sheepish grin intact seemed to be the mission of his night. Mamaji, who of course was not very amused by this unexpected shower of benediction tried to throw this fellow off guard by turning around in the middle of the night, so that his feet were now resting on the pillow, and pulling a quilt over himself. Well, the serial blesser’s conviction was unwavering… he continued to bless Mamaji’s legs through the night, blessed him again when he woke up next morn, and as he alighted finally at Hyd, sent him away with a shower of blessings, enough to last a lifetime.

Our sojourn in Hyd was pretty nice – mostly uneventful, except we did get to see Asia’s *largest* bus depot, and took a ride in Asia’s *biggest* auto-rickshaw!

Now, the real fun began on the way back… we were travelling on a Paulo sleeper this time, which btw is the worst bus i’ve ever travelled on. But that night the condition of the bus didn’t matter, cos we had a nostalgia bus of our own to catch. So HT, Mamaji and I spent most of the night holed up on the top berth, which btw is meant for two people to sleep on. We spent those hours reliving each and every ROFL moment from back in 2000, much to the agony of the *uncle* on the adjacent berth, who kept muttering – “uncivilized youngsters! don’t even allow others to sleep”. Uncleji, if you happen to read this, belated but sincere apologies! Once we’d exhausted our reminiscences, or rather decided we had enough for one night, it was time to hit the sack. HT and I would sleep on the berths we were sitting on all this time, while Mamaji had a berth of his own at the front of the bus. So we accompanied Mamaji to his hallowed bedstead, and what do we find… well there was this tiny bunk, half the width of a hospital stretcher, tucked away in one corner of the bus, right opposite the driver’s seat – it almost seemed to extend right outside the front of the bus. Well, HT and I rushed back to our slightly better lodgings before Mamaji could complain, and the last we saw of him that night was the sight of him vanishing into that tiny hollow of the bunk, that seemed almost like a porthole to the nether-worlds.

Well, suffice to say that Mamaji was not amused; but to this day, HT and I split our guts laughing whenever the *stretcher* comes up for discussion… talking of ROFL moments, that was one complete ROFL night!