travel travail

I hailed an autorickshaw and after telling the driver about my destination, I had only stepped in when he switched the radio on. As a rule, I usually ask the rickshaw drivers to turn the music off since most of them only play contemporary hindi music that plays on your soul like some chainsaw on timber. Today, however, was an exception where the track belted out was one from an old hindi movie and I let the speakers do their number while I mused that "VIDEO never really killed the RADIO star". My ravings were cut short and I was jarred into my senses when a cacophony of instruments, perceived by some as music, hit my eardrum till I thought my ear was going to bleed. A human voice accompanied it and it went "oooooh" and I immediately recognized it as belonging to the chap who sang, with a nasal twang. Listening to the voice, one cannot help wondering if The Creator, after downing a couple of stiff ones and probably in his haste to complete the job at hand, shoved the throat up this chap's nose. Another word that goes around has it that its not the Providence to be blamed at all; the chap, as a young devil at three, had tried swallowing a nut through the nose and it got stuck somewhere in the deep recesses enroute. It is indeed commendable of this man with a voice like it, that he has not just managed to survive it but also made a living out of it. I personally know of atleast 27, if not more, people who would give anything to take the hose of a vacuum cleaner, stick it up his nose, and suction off anything in sight at full power. Though his music and his voice play an integral part for people wanting to do it, we must not deprive the lyrics its due credit. I politely asked the autorickshaw driver to turn off the radio and it was only moments later that we came to a halt and as I paid the driver, I could perceive from without another track from the same chap with his all too familiar nasal voice and the trademark "oooooh". It didn't take me long to realize that some other autorickshaw driver, in the vicinity, was enjoying the song to an extent that he was playing it full volume, probably for the benefit of the deaf. I alighted and I was so irritated that when I set my sights on a fat ugly kid playing in the mud by the side, his trouser seat looked as inviting as a football asking for it: I could sense my leg twitch. However, decency and better sense prevailed. I merely gave it a tap, which sent the ugly kid rolling in the mud twice before he did the finest imitation of a cockroach on its back. It was only after I had covered much ground that I was entirely cut off from that voice bleating those senseless lyrics. Talk about lyrics; reminds me of what some wise guy once said and it goes: "Anything too stupid to be recited is sung."

Oooooh.... how trooooo!