Monsieur Booboochoo

My beloved Monsieur Boo,

You would have turned 14 today. You came in to our lives exactly 13 years and 11 months back. I remember every minute of that day like it was just yesterday. When we went to the vet to select a pup there was a litter spread across the table. I picked you instantly. I don’t know why. But it was the sister’s choice and I hoped that she would choose you. And she did!

Man, you were so tiny! You were always a small guy. Don’t get me wrong there, I mean only physically. But, when I look back at the pics of you as a pup… man how could you have been that small? Haha… you were so cute!

It was hard not to fall in love with you just by your looks. And then of course the pranks as you grew up and our relationship was sealed forever. I always had this type of relationship with you. I could just talk and you would just listen. I’m going to miss that. No one listens to me nowadays!

You know, maybe I could have been better. Spent more time with you, bought you more chew toys, rubber balls, pillows and pedigree. But, at that time, I don’t know, maybe I wasn’t thinking. I know it didn’t matter to you. But I still wish I’d done it.

A friend recently told me that that’s what we humans do best. Hope for a better past. I’m sure you don’t get it. You don’t need to also because it is silly. But it’s a human trait. And you know I’m human after all (Yes I am boo… we are not of the same species!). I think for some special people it’s okay to want that.

Ah my boo… I remember taking relationship advice from you once. Well, basically I made you choose between two fingers. And then when it all blew up I gave you a piece of my mind and you gave me ‘that look’. You know ‘the look’, yes you do! ‘The look’ that said- “okay now rub my head, right there, just behind the ears”.

You know I remember feeling used by you, especially when the sister used to come home for the holidays. She’d spoil you silly and you’d forget my existence. Except, of course, when it came for your morning walk! Then without any hesitation or shame for ignoring me for the previous 24 hours you would just jump on the bed and scratch my hand at 5 bloody 30 in the morning to take you out. It used to be a pain to wake up boo. But man, I loved it when you took me out for a walk.

Yes, it was you who used to take me out for a walk! I recently saw a play with a dog character. The dog says matter of fact that he takes his mistress out for a walk. That’s exactly the way you used to see it I’m sure.  

I don’t know how, when or why I started calling you Monsieur Booboochoo. We all had different names for you.  This was mine.

Back in the early days I remember having this dream of you running about in a large garden. And I realized in the dream itself that you know maybe it wasn’t fair to you growing up in the small house. You were indoors all the time except for maybe three times a day. And I wished that large garden for you and it broke my heart. I also remember reading that dogs are colour blind and for some silly reason it brought tears to my eyes.

Boo, I hope where ever you are there is a large garden for you to play in with plenty of munchies. Don’t worry there won’t be any baths or vets or injections. I hope you can see the colour of everything and revel in it. I hope you remember my smell because when I come to that garden I’d like you to take me for a walk. I’ll even hold the leash if you want me to.

Yours  

Conversing with a Woman

FD recently moved in to a flat with two women. FD is the only guy I know who can manage such feats and be absolutely nonchalant about it.

I confided to him my interest in “both” his flat mates. And the good man that he is he agreed to ‘wing’ for me. We just had to wait for the opportune moment.

And so suddenly a few days back I get a message from FD. It read- “Man if I wing for you any more I’ll probably start flying!”

Turns out that I came up in a conversation with one of his flat mates. Something to do with books. FD casually mentioned that I was one of those guys who read a book a week and that immediately caught her interest. “He’s kinda cute and also looks like he’s read a lot. You should call him over sometime.”

 BANG!

That chance happened yesterday. FD called me over for lunch. It was already 12PM and I was planning lunch with colleagues when I got the message. He said that he’d give me a 30 minutes heads up. Okay, cool, so I got to wait. “Patience” is my virtue.

About 2:15 I get the next message saying that I’d better eat something light as lunch would be really late. Great! So I ‘lightly’ gobbled up two biryanis. During lunch I get a message saying come over anyway and that he’d organize something. So another lunch now? No problem- I’m Mr. Flexible.

It was about 4PM when I got there. I walk in to this lovely scene- the sunlight coming in through the balcony and this very pretty lady sitting on a couch reading a book. FD has his camera hanging around his shoulders and he’s shooting her.

Now how cool is that? How I wished I was the photographer. Every girl loves to be photographed. And if you’re a pro like FD is then it just scores you so many more brownie points.

And this guy FD has a way with women. A true gentleman, he’s always soft-spoken and well behaved. He also takes great care of himself and is always on the top of his game when it comes to looks and style. He’s charming, mature, amiable and has a great witty sense of humor. He knows how to make conversation (especially with women- something that I have perennially struggled with!). And this guy is “winging” for me!

So I sat there opposite her. I could have sat there the whole evening just looking at her. But that would have looked odd it would. I get a message on my phone. It’s FD telling me to talk about books. Oh yes! That was my key!

So I asked her what book she was reading. Sheryl Sandberg’s- ‘Lean In’, she replied.  So to carry on the small talk I asked her what it was about. And then the dam burst! She explained that it was about the feminist movement and how women need to take on more responsibility and how there aren’t enough women at the top in the corporate world and how women don’t get equal pay as men and why is it the women’s responsibility to raise children and you know blah blah blah. She went on and on. Man- this chick was really passionate about this stuff!

Now I know that chicks dig humor. So I was looking for an opening to say something funny. But how do you say something funny about the feminist movement without sounding offensive?  So I carried on a serious conversation. I must have come across as a bore.

She must have got bored because after a while she broke off conversation and moved in to her room. FD and I had some work to catch up on and so we went about that. A little later she came back out and was observing us working.  I hope that at least came across as cool!

She suggested we go boating. FD asked me if I wanted to go and I nodded my head with an obvious expression on my face (don’t worry- she wasn’t looking).

So we went to the lake where we could hire peddle boats. We had to wait a bit for the boat. While waiting we saw some guys fishing in the lake. They were pulling a fish out and almost immediately throwing it back in. It was ridiculous! She enquired as to what they were doing and of course I had to act.

Now these fishing boys were Tamil boys. So I enquired what they were up to. “Oh nothing, just having fun.” Armed with this information I hoped to dazzle my lady. As I revealed it she just said- “Oh!” and went back to staring at the horizon.

The peddle boat came and I shoved FD to the back. “You have to take photos”- I told him.

So the pretty lady and I began peddling the boat. I let her steer the boat. She was peddling too fast and I was using up all my reserves just to keep up. We settled in to a rhythm soon thankfully and from there on I could shift my focus from the peddling.   

 And now my thoughts turned to striking a conversation with the chick. I said the obvious things. “Wow- this is beautiful!”, “I didn’t know this could be so much fun”, “Oh- the breeze” and stuff like that. My mind was searching for something to make this interesting for us but she just kept mum.

And then suddenly she opened up. “FD look at that bird!” I wanted to scream and say- “Hello! I’m here too! What the hell?”

And FD looks at the bird and says- “Ya, that’s nice. I used to do bird watching long before. Note down the different species and stuff like that.” To which she enthusiastically replied- “Oh ya? That’s so cool! I used to do it back home too!”

Now the only kind of bird watching I’m used to doing is a very different kind of bird watching. I don’t think that would have scored me any brownie points.

Oh well okay- so this chick likes birds. And so after that every time I saw a bird I would go- “Wow guys look at that!”  And they would just look up and say something like “Oh!”

Finally the tortuous boat ride was over. We got back home. She said she had to catch up on some stuff and went back to her room. And FD gave me a ‘what do I do with this guy’ look.  

Anyway FD and I went back to finishing off our work. As I took leave she was back in the living room. I told her I was leaving and she smiled.

I came out thinking nice- I at least got her to smile!         

For the Restaurant

Wilfred Halder was a proud self-made man. He was lucky as he’d found his calling in life quite early albeit under not so fortuitous circumstances.

His life story had already become the stuff of legend thanks to the TV show. He was born into an impoverished minority family living in the slums of Mumbai. The father had passed away while Fred was still very young and the poor lad had to stop school and start working to support the family.

He started life cleaning the tables and floors of a little road-side restaurant near the slum. It was here that he first stepped into a ‘professional’ kitchen. He knew he was in love when he first stepped in and thereafter he spent an inordinately long time each day soaking in the sights, sounds and atmosphere of the place. Luckily for him the cook was of the same religious persuasion and soon took him into his fold and started teaching him the tricks of the trade.

It wasn’t long before he moved full-time to the kitchen. He soon discovered that he had a gift for bringing together different ingredients and making them dance on one’s taste buds. Word soon spread of the culinary prowess of “little Fred” and it wasn’t long before the proprietor and others realized that it was little Fred’s skills that were bringing in the queues.

Little Fred soon grew in to a very fine young man. And with age and wisdom came the realization that he’d outgrown the little dhabha. By then his reputation was enough to open many doors and he was soon on the highway to success.

He moved on to a resort in Goa, a bistro in Bangalore and finally to a fine-dining restaurant in New Delhi. It was here that he got the opportunity to work with the legendary head chef Mathur.  It didn’t take long for Mathur to realize the talent that Fred had. The legend was instrumental in sculpting and polishing the rare coarse gem in to an absolute master of the kitchen.

Mathur encouraged his protégé to follow his passion. He coaxed him to experiment with his ingredients, to read about the different recipes and to eat and travel all over in order to become a better chef. Fred was an exemplary student and spared no efforts to learn and experiment.

It was Mathur who had persuaded him to enter the cooking competition. The competition was key. The prize money was enough for him to open his own restaurant. It would be the realization of his mother’s dream.    

And now he was just one step away from his prize. He exceeded everyone’s expectations, except Chef Mathur’s, and had survived each and every elimination round to reach the finals. The final was to be a free-style round with the contestant free to choose his venue and menu to impress the judges. Chef Mathur had been kind enough to let him use the restaurant.

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The only sound was the low whizzing of the refrigerators. The light from the street poured in through the window bathing a small portion of the kitchen in yellow. Fred sat in the darkness, all curled up with his head on his knee.  His train of thought was broken when the clock suddenly chimed three times.

Fred looked up and scanned the kitchen. The steel and chrome counters bathed in yellow jutted out at sharp angles almost threateningly. A major portion of the kitchen was covered in darkness which made him feel small and all alone. There was a sound of sirens in the distance which for some reason only accentuated his loneliness.

This meal had to be the epitome of his culinary prowess. Everything, absolutely everything was at stake. This evening was to be the culmination of his journey from cleaning boy to master chef. Oh what a journey it had been! And now he only had to dazzle his guests one last time to claim the prize that was his right. In seventeen hours he would lay claim to his throne.

His heart was beating faster. His mind was in turmoil as he couldn’t decide on what exactly to prepare.  What magic was he to conjure this last time? What miracle was he to perform? Where was he to seek his inspiration? Fred sat on the floor with his notepad beside him trying to get control of his thoughts.

Suddenly there was a sound of utensils crashing. Fred soon came back to his senses. “Must be the darn cats”- he said to himself and realized that in his confusion he had forgotten to close the door to the side entrance.

As Fred made his way to the door all of a sudden there was a bright light that shone on him. He was blinded momentarily before he heard a rough man’s voice.

 “Don’t move or I will shoot”- it said.

It took a while for Fred’s eyes to get adjusted to the light and make out the features of the man. He had red-blood shot eyes, long curly hair, a thick set beard and a sharp jaw-line that gave him a very menacing look. In one hand he carried a torch and in the other a gun.

“Who are you? What do you want?”- Fred enquired nervously.

There was a little laugh before the man replied- “I have the gun and I will be asking the questions here.”

Fred could feel his body shake from fear. His knees were about to give way.

“Well, let’s see. Is this a kitchen?”- enquired the man. Fred nodded.

“That’s good. I’m so hungry I could eat a man. What do you have?”- he said looking at him menacingly.

Fred stuttered a bit before beginning his reply- “We, we have everything here. This is a professional kitchen.”

“I see. And you are a cook?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Can you cook me-“, the sentence was broken by the loud wailing of sirens from nearby.  

The man indicated silence by placing a finger over his mouth.  He moved quietly across to peep out the window keeping the gun pointed at Fred.

There was a moment before the wailing sound receded. The man looked at Fred and said- “Look buddy I’m a wanted man. I’m wanted for murder, rape and extortion. Don’t you try any hanky-panky with me right, or I’ll kill you“.  Fred nodded.

“Good. I’m starving. Get me something to eat and make it quick.”

This was a nightmare. Fred hoped that he would suddenly awake to realize that it had all been a bad dream. But no, this wasn’t a dream. This was very real.

The man took aim at Fred’s forehead and said- “Come on now, quickly, get your ass moving.” Fred moved slowly towards a counter keeping his eyes on the man.  

It all happened in a flash. Fred looked left, saw a button and hit it as hard as he could. It turned on the flame thrower. All of a sudden there was a huge flame right next to the man which left him momentarily distracted. Fred’s eyes fell on the knife stand. He picked one closest to him and flung it at the man with expert precision. It pierced him above the left breast right through the heart. Fred then immediately went low as the man let out a loud blood curling scream of pain as he crashed to the ground. 

Fred hid behind a counter and waited till the screams died out. They eventually did. He then slowly tip- toed his way to where the man lay. He felt the body for pulse and there was none.

“What have I done?”- Fred said aloud as he held his head in his hands and began sobbing.

He could see the visions of his dream come crashing around him. Everything, everything had just been washed away. He leaned back against a drawer and wept. He felt very sorry for himself.

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It was late evening. The production team was all set and the cameras were rolling taking in a panorama view of the magnificent hall. The judges were seated at their table and the maître d was playing a good host. A camera was set-up exclusively to capture them enjoying their meal and making small talk.

Another camera was set-up to follow Fred as he approached the table. Fred filled his glass with wine. The director signalled the thumbs-up and he approached the table where the judges were being served.

“Salut gentlemen”- he said raising his glass while the others raised theirs.

“My boy this has been one of the most delightful gourmet experiences of my life”- said one of the judges. Fred could see the genuine expression in his eyes.

“Marvelous, astounding, stupendous! I’m out of words to describe the food today, especially the main course”- exclaimed another.

“It’s always a pleasure coming down to Mathur’s. But, this one time has out-done all our previous experiences.”- revealed the last one.

Fred bowed his head in acknowledgment.

“Yes, at this age I thought I’d tried and seen everything but today everything has been most exquisite. The soup, the entrée’ and the main course have simply blown us away.”

“Yes, I actually wanted to ask you about the main course. What dish is this?”- enquired the last judge.

The idea had come from an experience in the jungles of Orissa where he had stayed with some Adivasis. One day after a particularly elaborate ceremony a meal was served. Fred had tasted the meat and was left spell-bound. He enquired as to the origins and it turned out that it was ‘human-meat’.

Wilfred Halder smiled and said- “All in good time gentlemen. Enjoy your meal.”

PS: Special mention to Satya for helping me edit this one. Thanks a ton bro!