Judaai or the desolate troubadours on the walk to the grave

The Band plays carelessly at the man in the coffin. Unaware of his plea with God to return on the twelfth night after his passing, he's to come back to remind everyone that God is alive and back in Mumbai. But when he'll return next week, he'll suffocate in his little studio apartment six feet under in the I.C. Church graveyard at 1:18AM. The Band plays for all occasions like these. Ganesh Chaturthi, Dussehra, weddings or Diwali. The regular violence of being in Mumbai isn't enough for the people. They need more for their senses to acclimate themselves, then go on to acquit themself of their guilt. The Officials in United Nations may give elaborate speeches on the need for environmental rescue but the true weapons of mass destruction lie within the minds of those seeking cheap thrills during Indian festivals. Complete disregard for subtlety and instead enjoying in excess. Excess of scale means a greater fun. Bigger high. These are all delusions. As I pass my regular way from work to home, I see Shawn. He's wearing a mask and I am remembering all the times he came to me for his "headaches" that begun from his neck to his lower back. All the your-bra-strap-is-showing's to do-you-want-to-get-something-to-eat? I ignore him by flailing my hair over my face making sure he doesn't recognise me.

He's walking in front of me. I'm glad. This is when I'm ambushed. Tall and lean, I first don't recognise him. He's done something off to his face. Its his beard. The messy hair I'm used to or the muted responses to whatever you throw at him. Vallance Alvares. I can count the number of times I've seen him in the six-seven years of knowing him on my left hand. Maybe a couple on the right as well. This is the second time I'm seeing him this year. He has the unforgiving ability to drop in and out of people's lives without notice and getting their attention. It's also easy to forget about him. Not completely though. It's a subconscious remembrance. The way you remember your dead relationships and relatives. He pulls a Houdini act every six months then Voila, he's there talking to you about books, films and the mutual hatred of Fr. Jonny's slurry voice and always-regrettably trimmed moustache. He convinces me he's free at this time and we walk first over to the bridge and I ask him about his recent endeavours. I'm quite convinced he knows his shit. At least more than I was. Which reminds me.

"How old are you again?"

"20."

"Oh, so next year you'll be of legal age."

"Legal age? Why am I illegal right now? It's not legal to be less than 21?"

"Yeah I always think you're older."

"My mother says I'm a old man. She calls me Grandfather"

"Audla sahiba"

"Waiwai"

He pokes a bit of fun screeching about my height. Inquires about my manager. I tell him all is fine and that I'm going to the USA for the next three years. What a bomb that is to drop.

An excuse-me and the few cusses exchanged between when did you think it was okay to tell me? and did you meet me for six months or be anywhere where I could see you? later, I tell him I'm sorry about delaying telling him. I honestly figured it wasn't necessary. I don't see him much anyway. To make up, I ask him if he'd like to have tea or coffee. I'd be better in a place where we could sit and chat rather than walking the grimy streets. On the way he tells me about his friends.

I imagine Nehru and the Driver were codenames. But the Grinch? Let the Grinch be alone and sad; then he promised me that he was. He begins with Nehru's twin deciding on a location. She says she'd prefer to go to Mira/Bhayander because that's the part of Mumbai (out of Mumbai, I correct him) that she'd visited the least. They pay the toll at Dahisar and drive out of the city. On entering the Bhayander and going past and more into the Virar district, Nehru picks up an old conversation about Oppenheimer and politics. They discuss about communism, socialism and fascism. How the Nazi party's full form includes the word 'Socialism' and is instead a far-right authoritarian party posing as the socialist party. 

Virar has long stretches of flyovers where inter-state trucks drive. The Grinch looks for trucks that make it to his lover girl's city. He's disappointed for there to be such a few. He dreams about skipping trucks from others to play an inter-state hopscotch till he's made it to her doorstep. This is when I start questioning Vallance's perception of reality a bit. It seems to me that's he's confusing this Grinch persona as an extension of himself. Hence regressing into himself. The music in his mind defines the state of mind in which the Grinch appears to him. I ask why does Nehru and the Driver not speak to the Grinch? He says the Grinch doesn't answer to them. 

On the way, they see a BMW Sedan driving through the streets. Two girls sit atop through the sunroof. The BMW makes sudden unindicated cuts through the highway between trucks and the crazy driver, Our the Driver loses his mind a bit. He begins reciprocating the same treatment and cutting, honking and barely scrapping through. The BMW continues and the drive turns into a high-octane chase sequence. The Driver can make no mistakes. The crazy Driver can. If he does though, the two little girls fly over and they're mince meat for Kesari Kanhaiya from UP listening to DJ Golu's Desh Bhakti remix.

A straight 10-min breach later, the two drivers drive parallel. Nehru is bent over Vallance's lap and screams through the open window "CHALANA NAHI AATA KYA BEHENCHOD???" They take their windows down and there's three muslim women in burqas with about eight kids in the car with two on the top. Vallance yells "Biwiyo ka dhyaan rakhna lavde!" The older burqa-clad woman in the passenger seat yells "KYA KAR RAHA HAI? TU KYA KAR RAHA HAIN??" Nehru later pointed out this aforementioned woman had never driven a car in her life.

The Driver yells "Bina signal diye chala raha hai! Indicator gaand mein daalne ke liye diya hai kya?" The Crazy Driver who could probably chalk it up as his mistake doesn't say anything. Rather the crazier aunty keeps yelling the same thing. To this they both say, "Chal chal nikal" in Marathi. After they move on, Vallance makes a joke about how the Jihadi Quran says, those who kill more folks in their life on earth will be rewarded with the exact number in wives in the afterlife. "Banda biwi bachcho ko marr raha hai so he can get e-girls in jannat." I ask him what was the Grinch doing this time, he says he was looking out his end of the window. On the opposite side. Something is very clear. Vallance remains the distasteful persona that makes the unruly, vulgar comments. Intrusive thoughts forward. The Grinch ignores the reality and remains in his dreams. One dream. Both personas equally distraught with life. Distracting themselves and coming together on one occasion.

Do you see the Grinch outside of the car?

Actually no. He just doesn't leave the car. When I get in, he's usually there. Since him, Nehru and the Grinch hang out alone most. 

Hmmm...

The one occasion being the drives. The comeuppance of either is met with a mutual feeling of loneliness. Usually dealing with one personality or another. They meet each other as separate entities and interact on drives. Each an extension of the other. One complicated individual to himself. A danger to others. I wonder if he knows and pretends to persistently believe the Grinch is a friend.

At the coffeehouse, he makes a promise to see me off. I don't know who I am talking to right now. Is it the Grinch or Vallance? Or both. Maybe it's more dissolved than black & white. They're both Vallance. Or neither is him. Either way, the conversation is good and we order Irish Hot Chocolate instead. Too bad I won't be here to know him better. But he can look out for himself.