Gujju Attacks And The Acid Test

After like a zillion years and realizing I have been making free monthly donations to my gym, I decided to make use of that multistoried complex where you get live-walking-talking examples of what obese would be and what well toned would be.

And like most of my gym stories, this one has to start in the locked room. As like most of my stories, it has to involve a slightly fat Gujju Uncle trying to hitch me up with his daughter.

So when I entered the locker room, I found myself face to face with this man who would be in his late 40's or early 50's. His English was somewhere between - I learnt it at the age of 40 - to - I learnt it yesterday. Yet his effort at speaking the language was recommendable. Altho at first he started off with the usual Gujju pair of words.

"Kem Chho?" (How are you?), with a smile so wide that it might have exposed all of his 32 teeth. At this time, I would like to remind everyone of a new policy incorporated by yours truly. He who shall assume I am Gujju will not get a word of Gujju out of me.

"Good. Yourself?", I said. The man was smart enough to get the hint and started conversing in English. We made small talk and as I was heading for my treadmill, he goes, "The good and healthy Indian in US, is good to see always."

I smiled, and walked away. As I was done with the treadmill, he walked up to me again, giving me the impression he had been spying on me and waiting for me to stop. "University you go to?" After letting him know what I work here and finished my schooling, with a slight hint of a frown, he says, "My daughter go to good university here" and after a pause says, "But you teach me how the dumbell do?"

From experience, the moment Gujju men start talking about their daughter(s), a huge alarm rings in my head. Its like my sixth sense pounding my eardrums warning me of an unseen danger.

"I cant lift weights for a while, so you'll have to excuse me."

"You have the problem? I help when you in need. My daughter goto good medical school. All medicine you come to me. She help. After all, the good and healthy Indian in US, is good to see always"

And so my first and last day (for a while) at the gym was as such.... (On a sidenote, I have been reading Gregory Roberts - Shantaram, and somehow this guy reminded me of Prabhaker the Guide)


On a different note, my ex-roomie did get married to his European Girlfriend. The wedding took place in Europe and then the bride stayed back for a month and joined him here. What she got with her was a dog. A miniature pinscher. I jokingly call the mutt as dowry. But apparently he is named 'Waffle' and is probably thrice the size of my palm. In all honesty, my neighbour has a cat which is bigger than him.

For reasons best known to everyone, I was avoiding Waffle, till one day the owner and the dog decide to visit my apartment.

"He wont do anything to you..."

"How do you know?", said I, as Waffle slowly walked up to me.

"Oh, he'll smell you and thats about it", and the mutt, a little taller than my ankles, did walk up and smell my toes, licked them and walked away.

Finally, I thought, there exists a dog who is crazy enough not to run after me. And in all happiness, I called out to him, "Waffle, Waffle, Waffle". And he turns around, growls, the growl turns into a bark and starts running at me. The look in his eyes said it all. "I am 1/50 th your size, but I'll rip you apart"

Fortunately for him, he was on a leash.



Thats Waffle, and the cutest part about him is his ears are too big for his body. And one ear is always uptight and the other is slack, resting down.

Also, going to a Pet Shop makes me realize dogs live a carefree life. They have these teeny weeny shirts made for them which says, "Wanna be my bitch?". I so wanted something like that since I was five, but had to think a thousand times if I had to wear it.