All of us in my family, cousins et al, consider Pitaji, my Nanaji, as the original Head of our Family. He had a subtle sense of humour and would voice his comments coolly with an expressionless face. One day, a nephew of Mataji, my Nani, turned up and wanted to meet Pitaji who was having a bath. The nephew said he would just get a paan from the corner shop and be back in 10 minutes. The nephew had a reputation of not sticking to his word. So when Pitaji came out and was told that nephew had come and would be back shortly, Pitaji immediately remarked, oh, then he won't come. And he didn't!
During the 1976 emergency, a relative serving in the Rajasthan government had to undergo vasectomy. He visited us sometime later and after he left, Pitaji wondered aloud if the relative's voice sounded effeminate!
Pitaji's favourite story was about an examiner who while marking answer copies decided on the final result depending on which nostril he was breathing from: right meant pass and left, fail.
Another trait of Pitaji was giving his own name to places. During our first visit to Bombay (which itself officially mutated to Mumbai later!), Cuffe Parade became Duff Cooper and Wodehouse Road, Hobhouse Road for us ever after.
Shashi Mama (Cdr PK Sharma) had his own brand of humour. As a teenager, home on summer vacation from Allahabad University, he developed fever and was confined by Mataji, a strict believer in the maxim 'starve the fever', to a milk diet. Shashi Mama took it sportingly and once in a while we would hear a feeble shout from his room, "Doodh maharaj ki jai.'
Bharatpur was not a very happening city at least in the 40s and a vacation there in scorching summer was hardly something to look forward to. Shashi Mama must have found it very boring for every evening he would say in a singsong voice, "garaz ke kaat diya zindagi ka din ek aur.'
He also had his own vocabulary. Some of his favourites were 'mare pe do laat' (for the constantly downtrodden), 'janampatri pe joote maar' (for someone succeeding beyond his capability) and 'thanks but no thanks.'
If a party needed livening, one could always turn to him to perform his song and dance number "Balma jajaja, balma jaa."
Vinnie Mama (Cmde VK Sharma) was more of a stiff upper lip PG Wodehouse type. One of his early ones was about a British noble lady who acquired a new chauffeur. When asked for his name, he replied, "James."
Noble Lady, "Tell me your surname, I only address my chaffeurs by their surnames."
Chauffeur, "Darling, James Darling."
Noble Lady, "Drive on, James."
His naval anecdotes would fill more than a book. And he actually authored one titled "With a Pinch of Salt"- a must read for those interested in naval life. A classical anecdote was one about sounding action stations on a ship. The Gunnery Instructor (GI) wanted to quickly establish communications and blared on the Armament Broadcast, "All positions, this is GDP (Gun Direction Position), how do you hear me, over?" No answer. Louder, "All Positions This Is GDP, How Do You Hear Me, Over?" Again no answer. Third time, screaming, "ALL POSITIONS THIS IS GDP, OVER, OVER." A new sailor thinking he must quickly rectify the situation grabbed the nearest mic and said loudly, "GDP, This Is All Positions, hearing you loud and clear, how me, Over?" GI very angrily, "WRONG. You should have said, THESE ARE ALL POSITIONS!"
A second one...A Captain followed a morning ritual of opening his safe, taking out a booklet, reading it religiously, replacing it and locking back the safe. The XO (second-in-command) was mystified and grabbed the first opportunity to open the safe and get hold of the booklet which read, "The right side of the ship is Starboard and the left side Port."
One with not such a stiff upper lip. A pilot was gently navigating an Italian ship into a narrow channel.
Pilot, "Starboard 5." Italian Quartermaster, "Starboda 5, 5 of-a starboda wheel-a on sir."
Pilot, "Starboard 10." QM, "Starboda 10, 10 of-a starbod-a wheel-a on sir."
Pilot, "Starboard 15." QM utterly exasperated now, "Starbod-a 5, starbod-a 10, starbod-a 15, why can't-a you make up-a your mind. Here, I put-a plenty of starbod-a wheel on, hard-a starbod."
CRASH, BOOM, GHRRRR....
And in real life... We were in Jaipur together when Vinnie Mama had to leave for Bombay. My family and I went to see him off on the train and we found that he had been allotted a seat on the side instead of the usual full berth. I was unfamiliar with this and asked him how he would sleep at night. He said no problem and demonstrated by unfolding the seat and the one opposite thereby joining them and making a sleeper. He then said that normally the train conductors were very accommodating and would find an old person a regular berth. Just then a person in a black coat and white trousers was passing by and Vinnie Mama addressed him, "Conductor sahib, conductor sahib, if you would be so kind to an old man......" and started stating his case for a proper berth. The person tried to say something but Vinnie Mama continued nonstop and would not let him get a word in edgewise. Finally when Vinnie Mama stopped for breath, the man said, "But gentleman, I am not the Conductor." Vinnie Mama offered profound apologies and the man started walking away. Vinnie Mama then said to the man's retreating back,"But you are dressed like one." That really brought the house down including the black coat-white trousered man.
As my father and Dadaji passed away when I was very young, I didn't get to know many relatives from my paternal side. There was one exception though and that was my granduncle (called Alwarwale Chachaji by me) who was also related to us from Mummy's side as he was married to Mataji's elder sister. He was a Judge in Alwar state and was very fond of Pitaji as well as me and we used to visit him often. On weekends he had a kind of durbar to which all our community folks flocked. Ladies went to the upper floor and gents stayed down in a big hall. Chachaji was fond of practical jokes and on one occasion caught hold of a child and asked him what had been happening in his house earlier. The child mentioned that his aunt did not have a petticoat to wear so she asked his mother, who was not coming to Chachaji's place, to lend her one for the day. The child went out to play and after sometime was summoned by Chachaji to go and tell his aunt that his mother had sent a message asking the aunt to return the petticoat. The innocent child went and conveyed this to his aunt in the presence of all the other ladies. The aunt angrily stormed out cursing her sister and muttering what the emergency was why her sister could not even wait for her to return. Fireworks must have exploded at home when she got back!
Babuji, my father-in-law's humour had a rustic touch. Fond of sher and shayari, his stories sounded wonderful in chaste urdu. A lot of juice is lost in translation but here are a couple of them.
A singer was going on and on at a village concert till everyone walked away leaving just two people. The singer on noticing this said to the two, "You are truly knowledgable about music and I thank you for staying right to the end." One of them remarked, "Thank you, sir, but we are just waiting for you to finish. Yeh lalten meri hai aur durrie iski."
At another concert, the public got utterly disgusted with the music but the performers showed no signs of stopping. Finally, a tough looking sardar got up and charged up to the stage brandishing his kirpan. Scared, the artistes started getting up and scampering but the sardar told them, "Aap kyon uth rahe ho, aap toh gaate rahiye, mujhe aapse koi gila nahin hai, main toh usko dhoondh raha hoon jisne aapko yehan bulaya." I used the idea often in actual situations and recall that in August 1983, Adm Dawson ordered the Western Fleet to carry out anti-submarine exercises in the thick of monsoon. 90% of ships' companies were seasick, ships were all helter skelter and nobody had an idea of what was going on. I, as Fleet Operations Officer, said to CNS's Naval Assistant, "Forgive the ships, I am looking for the person who ordered the exercises in the first place." This was probably conveyed to the CNS who thereafter always looked askance at me.
To conclude, three of my favourites.
A full chapter on Sex in George Mikes's book 'How to be an Englishman' : "The continental people have sex, the English, hot water bottle."
In a cartoon, the trainer standing by the fence during a race is exhorting his horse to run faster, "Come on Black Beauty, come on!" Black Beauty aborts the race and heads for the trainer.
In another cartoon, Ginger Meggs, according to me a kid naughtier than Dennis the Menace, is walking back from school with a classmate.
Classmate, "Albert says he is the biggest liar in class."
Ginger Meggs, "Don't believe him!"
Blood is thicker than water and the humour gene is now flowing well in the veins of the younger generation. Having studied at Lovedale, my cousin Rajeev can keep you laughing for hours recounting Tamil jokes and with his experience in the advertising industry is an expert at fun in pun.
During the 1976 emergency, a relative serving in the Rajasthan government had to undergo vasectomy. He visited us sometime later and after he left, Pitaji wondered aloud if the relative's voice sounded effeminate!
Pitaji's favourite story was about an examiner who while marking answer copies decided on the final result depending on which nostril he was breathing from: right meant pass and left, fail.
Another trait of Pitaji was giving his own name to places. During our first visit to Bombay (which itself officially mutated to Mumbai later!), Cuffe Parade became Duff Cooper and Wodehouse Road, Hobhouse Road for us ever after.
Shashi Mama (Cdr PK Sharma) had his own brand of humour. As a teenager, home on summer vacation from Allahabad University, he developed fever and was confined by Mataji, a strict believer in the maxim 'starve the fever', to a milk diet. Shashi Mama took it sportingly and once in a while we would hear a feeble shout from his room, "Doodh maharaj ki jai.'
Bharatpur was not a very happening city at least in the 40s and a vacation there in scorching summer was hardly something to look forward to. Shashi Mama must have found it very boring for every evening he would say in a singsong voice, "garaz ke kaat diya zindagi ka din ek aur.'
He also had his own vocabulary. Some of his favourites were 'mare pe do laat' (for the constantly downtrodden), 'janampatri pe joote maar' (for someone succeeding beyond his capability) and 'thanks but no thanks.'
If a party needed livening, one could always turn to him to perform his song and dance number "Balma jajaja, balma jaa."
Vinnie Mama (Cmde VK Sharma) was more of a stiff upper lip PG Wodehouse type. One of his early ones was about a British noble lady who acquired a new chauffeur. When asked for his name, he replied, "James."
Noble Lady, "Tell me your surname, I only address my chaffeurs by their surnames."
Chauffeur, "Darling, James Darling."
Noble Lady, "Drive on, James."
His naval anecdotes would fill more than a book. And he actually authored one titled "With a Pinch of Salt"- a must read for those interested in naval life. A classical anecdote was one about sounding action stations on a ship. The Gunnery Instructor (GI) wanted to quickly establish communications and blared on the Armament Broadcast, "All positions, this is GDP (Gun Direction Position), how do you hear me, over?" No answer. Louder, "All Positions This Is GDP, How Do You Hear Me, Over?" Again no answer. Third time, screaming, "ALL POSITIONS THIS IS GDP, OVER, OVER." A new sailor thinking he must quickly rectify the situation grabbed the nearest mic and said loudly, "GDP, This Is All Positions, hearing you loud and clear, how me, Over?" GI very angrily, "WRONG. You should have said, THESE ARE ALL POSITIONS!"
A second one...A Captain followed a morning ritual of opening his safe, taking out a booklet, reading it religiously, replacing it and locking back the safe. The XO (second-in-command) was mystified and grabbed the first opportunity to open the safe and get hold of the booklet which read, "The right side of the ship is Starboard and the left side Port."
One with not such a stiff upper lip. A pilot was gently navigating an Italian ship into a narrow channel.
Pilot, "Starboard 5." Italian Quartermaster, "Starboda 5, 5 of-a starboda wheel-a on sir."
Pilot, "Starboard 10." QM, "Starboda 10, 10 of-a starbod-a wheel-a on sir."
Pilot, "Starboard 15." QM utterly exasperated now, "Starbod-a 5, starbod-a 10, starbod-a 15, why can't-a you make up-a your mind. Here, I put-a plenty of starbod-a wheel on, hard-a starbod."
CRASH, BOOM, GHRRRR....
And in real life... We were in Jaipur together when Vinnie Mama had to leave for Bombay. My family and I went to see him off on the train and we found that he had been allotted a seat on the side instead of the usual full berth. I was unfamiliar with this and asked him how he would sleep at night. He said no problem and demonstrated by unfolding the seat and the one opposite thereby joining them and making a sleeper. He then said that normally the train conductors were very accommodating and would find an old person a regular berth. Just then a person in a black coat and white trousers was passing by and Vinnie Mama addressed him, "Conductor sahib, conductor sahib, if you would be so kind to an old man......" and started stating his case for a proper berth. The person tried to say something but Vinnie Mama continued nonstop and would not let him get a word in edgewise. Finally when Vinnie Mama stopped for breath, the man said, "But gentleman, I am not the Conductor." Vinnie Mama offered profound apologies and the man started walking away. Vinnie Mama then said to the man's retreating back,"But you are dressed like one." That really brought the house down including the black coat-white trousered man.
As my father and Dadaji passed away when I was very young, I didn't get to know many relatives from my paternal side. There was one exception though and that was my granduncle (called Alwarwale Chachaji by me) who was also related to us from Mummy's side as he was married to Mataji's elder sister. He was a Judge in Alwar state and was very fond of Pitaji as well as me and we used to visit him often. On weekends he had a kind of durbar to which all our community folks flocked. Ladies went to the upper floor and gents stayed down in a big hall. Chachaji was fond of practical jokes and on one occasion caught hold of a child and asked him what had been happening in his house earlier. The child mentioned that his aunt did not have a petticoat to wear so she asked his mother, who was not coming to Chachaji's place, to lend her one for the day. The child went out to play and after sometime was summoned by Chachaji to go and tell his aunt that his mother had sent a message asking the aunt to return the petticoat. The innocent child went and conveyed this to his aunt in the presence of all the other ladies. The aunt angrily stormed out cursing her sister and muttering what the emergency was why her sister could not even wait for her to return. Fireworks must have exploded at home when she got back!
Babuji, my father-in-law's humour had a rustic touch. Fond of sher and shayari, his stories sounded wonderful in chaste urdu. A lot of juice is lost in translation but here are a couple of them.
A singer was going on and on at a village concert till everyone walked away leaving just two people. The singer on noticing this said to the two, "You are truly knowledgable about music and I thank you for staying right to the end." One of them remarked, "Thank you, sir, but we are just waiting for you to finish. Yeh lalten meri hai aur durrie iski."
At another concert, the public got utterly disgusted with the music but the performers showed no signs of stopping. Finally, a tough looking sardar got up and charged up to the stage brandishing his kirpan. Scared, the artistes started getting up and scampering but the sardar told them, "Aap kyon uth rahe ho, aap toh gaate rahiye, mujhe aapse koi gila nahin hai, main toh usko dhoondh raha hoon jisne aapko yehan bulaya." I used the idea often in actual situations and recall that in August 1983, Adm Dawson ordered the Western Fleet to carry out anti-submarine exercises in the thick of monsoon. 90% of ships' companies were seasick, ships were all helter skelter and nobody had an idea of what was going on. I, as Fleet Operations Officer, said to CNS's Naval Assistant, "Forgive the ships, I am looking for the person who ordered the exercises in the first place." This was probably conveyed to the CNS who thereafter always looked askance at me.
To conclude, three of my favourites.
A full chapter on Sex in George Mikes's book 'How to be an Englishman' : "The continental people have sex, the English, hot water bottle."
In a cartoon, the trainer standing by the fence during a race is exhorting his horse to run faster, "Come on Black Beauty, come on!" Black Beauty aborts the race and heads for the trainer.
In another cartoon, Ginger Meggs, according to me a kid naughtier than Dennis the Menace, is walking back from school with a classmate.
Classmate, "Albert says he is the biggest liar in class."
Ginger Meggs, "Don't believe him!"
Blood is thicker than water and the humour gene is now flowing well in the veins of the younger generation. Having studied at Lovedale, my cousin Rajeev can keep you laughing for hours recounting Tamil jokes and with his experience in the advertising industry is an expert at fun in pun.
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