True Story
Bhaag Subbu Bhaag
Subramaniam Uncle, one of the most loved Uncle, was the proud owner of a moped. Not luna not scooter, a Moped. Back then, there was no option of pressing the button to start the bike. One had to Kick! In its prime, a single swift kick would awaken the moped, and Uncle would be off to his office. But as it grew older, uske nakhre shuru, just like my teenage daughter. A single kick wouldn’t work. It required multiple kicks. This became the new normal.
One fine morning, Uncle approached his moped with his regular big smile. He delivered his signature kick. Nothing. He tried again. Still nothing. Glancing around sheepishly, Uncle began a series of frantic kicks, each one angrier and more desperate than the last. But the moped just didn’t start.
Enter The Tilt. Every scooter owner in India must have used this desperate move at least once in his lifetime! Pakka!
He placed the moped on its stand, leaned it dramatically at a 45-degree angle, and gave it a good shake – like the F1 winners do with the Champagne bottle. Satisfied, he kicked again with the Vigor of an angry bull. And voilà! The engine jaag utha. Yay! Tilt became the new normal every morning.
But one fateful morning, even The Tilt gave him kalti. Uncle kicked, tilted, shook, and coaxed (yes, he did that too – just like I do with my daughter) — multiple times. still nothing.
It was time for Plan B: The Moped Jog.
Uncle mounted the moped, grabbed the handlebars with determination, and broke into a jog, pushing it forward while fiddling with the clutch and accelerator. For 10 glorious meters, he ran staring at the road and roared to life. Uncle’s grin was brighter than the morning sun.
From that day on, this Moped Jog became Uncle’s new normal with the Moped.
At times, the kids from the balcony would shout “Sahi Hai Uncle…. Lage raho”. They were like the modern-day Cheerleaders of IPL. Uncle, being sporty, enjoyed in their applause.
Then came Pradakshina ! (Our building, Ajanta, had 4 buildings – A, B, C, D – with a road in front)
One morning, Uncle’s moped decided to be stubborn (Yes, just like my daughter). He kicked, tilted, shook, and Jogged … no this time he sprinted— but nothing. He reached the dead-end of D-Building. He turned left and sprinted down the 50-meter runway alongside C-Building. Nothing. He had to take another Left – along the B building.
By now, the number of spectators grew. Bhailog clapped, Auntylog paused their cooking, and unclelog put down their newspapers to join in THE RUN WITH MOPED SHOW.
As Uncle ran, sweat pouring down his face, frustration hit a new peak. In a moment of chaos, he accidentally pulled the brake instead of the clutch. The moped screeched to a halt, but Uncle couldn’t. In a split second, he found himself horizontal, perfectly parallel to the ground, flat on the moped. Thankfully because of his tight grip and strong legs due to all that kicking, he didn’t go flying, but everyone watching went “Ooh… Aah” before bursting into laughter knowing he was safe.
Bacchalog Cheered.. “Uncle, you can do it!”. Uncle, now in a state of pure adrenaline pushed onward. He completed a full lap of the building bole to complete Pradakshina…
Finally, at the end of his epic journey, the moped couldn’t see more of Uncle huffing and puffing roared to life.
As if India had just won the World Cup, crowd erupted and started clapping!
Uncle started laughing and raised his fist in triumph… and drove to Office.
No No.. This was not the new normal! Else we would have a movie Called “Bhaag Subbu Bhaag”…