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Of Hip Replacements, Turpentine and Susegaad .

If you are not one of those active type people who are constantly busy, then the summer vacations can be a real bore. I, like many others I’m sure, had a lot planned but there is just so much free time that at some point you have to end up bored.

So, I decided to get on to the Latin dancing bandwagon. It’s FUN, EXCITING, everyone and their yoga teacher/arthritic grandmother is doing it!! Latin dancing that is. (sheesh, you people have twisted minds). So I get on to the net to search for Latin dancing instructors in Mumbai. I googled Latin Dancing teachers/institutes. Call it a man’s intuition but I managed to find XXX Latinos teach young Virgin boys…

Two hours, a heat stroke and many virus scans later I finally got a old of some institues in Mumbai. Damn! Learning to dance is expensive! Couple of grand for a few steps? Who goes for that sorta thing? Hmmmmm…guys probably go there to impress the girls. Coz you know what they say about guys who can dance, right? (wink, wink) Exactly. That they hip replacements by the time they are 40 because of all the strain on their hips and pelvic area. (What? What? There are absolutely no sexual innuendoes in that sentence)

Having taken two calcium tablets (those chewy ones) I set out to paint the licence plate on the family car. No we are not on the run from the law! The paint was just peeling and I had to do some touch ups. To dilute the paint, I had to use turpentine. And as the fumes got to me, my white car was suddenly very psychedelic, you know Beatle-esque, Andy Warhol type. And as I sat there staring at the ground watching red ants go about their work, I suddenly felt a downer coming on, in spite of my turpentine induced upper.

That’s because I know so many people who are using their vacations productively or are at least going off somewhere for a change. Quite a few of my friends have gone, are in, or will go to Goa this summer. Most of them are natives of Goa and own flats or have ancestral homes or something there. I wouldn’t mind going there. The booze is cheap and clothing is optional, at least on some of the beaches. But what to do men? I don’t have money. No money, no trip. And for me to get a job during summer vacations is sacrilege.
Didn’t one of the Gods say, and I quote, “Remember the Summer, and keep it holy.” So summer is a divinely appointed time of rest. Plus a job comes in the way of all the susegaad I had planned. (Hmph! Goans and their susegaad. I can susegaad better!) I shouldn’t say that or my friends adulterate the feni that they promised to get back for me.

Ok, moving past the phoney feni and keeping all alliterations aside, the summer I fell is just not the time for activity, what with all the heat and the drunken nights.So what do we do? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHAT DO WE DO??!! Oooh Bold and the Beautiful is on!….

Nishant Saldanha

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