Plum has trained his fans well. Life’s harsh slings and arrows do not leave them gasping for breath. If they get surprised like a nymph while bathing, they are quick to recover. They are seldom baffled, bewildered, confused, confounded, disconcerted, flummoxed, nonplussed, mystified, perplexed, or puzzled for more than a few seconds. Thinking on their feet comes easy to them. So does a chin up attitude. If fate offers them lemons, they are happy to make a lemonade out of it and even lace it with a suitable tissue restorative. They wear humorous glasses which enable them to view life’s adventures in a lighter vein.
Here is an impromptu collection of some juicy narratives recently shared by some of his fans, ending with a few autobiographical kinds from yours truly.
Sukanya Lakshmi Narayan
Some decades back, I happened to meet a couple at the Annual General Meeting of our community. One of those MNC types when the MNCs were of a British demeanour. But they were given plush quarters elsewhere. My better half (BH) was elsewhere in some part of world trying to make his employer richer.
When we discovered a common village ancestry, despite the stiff upper lip etc, the dialect came pouring out, and much bonhomie followed with an invitation to drop in anytime. After all, same village ancestry equals family, right? At least in India it does.
Soon after, one balmy Sunday afternoon, yours truly was taking a well-deserved siesta when the doorbell rang. The BH, who didn’t like the striped PJs men in North India sported, nor the bare-chested half folded veshti (lower wraparound) avatar that South Indian men could be seen in, got into action. Instead, clad in one of those giant stiffly starched shorts of the British Raj police fame, khaki colour besides, and a banyan(vest), BH opened the door. So what if the said shorts were straight from some fancy store off Oxford Street!
The aforementioned MNC couple stood there and gave him a dekko, much as Bingo Little and Rosie M Banks might have done, had they ever come across Roderick Spode, albeit a genteel one. The man sized him up and with a polite but authoritative tone and asked, “Memsaab hain?” (read as, “Is the white lady of the house in?”). As one would ask a servant in the heyday.
BH ushered them in, made them comfy and ran in to tell me to get up, since some people have come to see you. Hurriedly bemoaning the loss of a precious siesta, I walked into the drawing room and the flurry of our dialect began. Did I mention it’s a foreign tongue to the BH?
Well, BH showed up in two minutes, dressed in a branded Polo tee shirt and Saville Row trousers and sat himself right next to me on the sofa. No purple socks or cummerbund. Jeeves would have approved.
As Plum would say, a kaleidoscope of expressions flitted across their faces, from shock, followed by outrage, followed by realisation and embarrassment and finally a difficultly executed polite half-smile expression of hello.
Priceless.
What’s even more priceless is the legacy Plum has left us, to view life’s situations in a lighter vein. So, we don’t mind laughing at ourselves too!!
Lekshmy Sreekantan
Something of a gaffe happened to me too although I am not hoity toity. I was standing in the doorway awaiting the arrival of an unseen newly appointed cook when a yet unseen new neighbour of mine popped up. I invited her in took her straight to the kitchen and outlined her duties. She listened to me (a beautiful soul) patiently and then informed me that she is our new neighbour!
Frankly, I did not know where to look. A bright pink shade might have popped up on my visage. Had Lord Emsworth been around, he could have been forgiven for thinking I was one of the blooming Bignonia Radicans in the Blandings gardens. But the lady was grace personified. A radiant smile from her and we became good friends.
John Korulla
If you want my ha’ penny worth, I could not do better than to relate of the subsequent discomfiture of an erstwhile colleague of mine (a Palakkad Namboothiri) into whose bank branch a prosperous looking man walked in with a purposeful mien. He went up to the Deposits counter and had to wait to be served. He had to wait for about ten minutes, which he passed with becoming grace. When his time came, he moved to the Officer’s counter and informed him that he just came to check the place out and that he would be taking charge the next day as the next Chair. His conduct would surely have met with approval of someone like Rupert Psmith. My mate could not live down the story the Chair kept repeating to show how Managers were not proactive enough. You should have seen the poor fellow cringe whenever the Chair came to a Managers’ Meet.
Yours Truly
Here are a few links which capture some of my own experiences in life:
Note:
- Illustration courtesy Suvarna Sanyal.
- Consent by respective fans to reproduce their narratives here is gratefully acknowledged.
ashokbhatia 