Breath strokes

Now that I think about it, Chirag was the undeniable attention grabber amongst the last benchers at Kalra Shukla classes. I know what you guys are thinking and let me stop you right there. His curly hair had very little to do with it, if at all. Chirag unleashed his full potential as the 'naughty yet likeable' guy who appeals to girls that age, with a force that is just too strong to resist. Add to that his raw, manly and rugged looks and you had a combination which would make the genetic combination of Hrithik Roshan and Tom Cruise wimp with envy.

Let's give Chirag a few moments to gather himself and realize that from this moment on, this blog will never be taken seriously. Now a few minutes for Shetty to start blinking again. Ok.

There were six seats on the last row of our class, three on each side of the central space through which one could exit. There were seven of us who desperately claimed the last row. Hence, everyday, each of us had to take turns to sit on the world's most uncomfortable stool placed right in the centre of the two three-seat rows. That fateful day, it was Chirag's turn.

The lecture was being taken by this chemistry teacher who bore a little too much resemblance to the cricketer Sunil Joshi. He used to be very soft spoken, but we soon realised, he was sharper than we thought. To keep the 'last benchers' flag' flying high, we were as usual up to no good. Chirag started narrating (whispering) something funny that happened the previous evening. He had this mischievous glint in his eyes as he was nearing his punch line. In the meantime, our teacher had spotted Mr Chirag and his glint, so he started walking towards him slowly without changing the tone of his lecture. Chirag, completely oblivious of this, was now getting a bit too animated for an ongoing lecture. We spotted the teacher, but couldn't convey this to Chirag since our energy was being spent on flaring our nostrils to control our laughter.

Before he sensed it, the teacher was staring down on him, too close for comfort. Chirag was literally under his nose. Chirag looked up. We could hardly see Chirag's eyeballs. In this confusion, Chirag didn't realise that the teacher had framed a long and complicated question while walking up to him. All Chirag heard was, "Hmmm?".

The teacher was breathing down his neck. Droplets of water started accumulating on Chirag's forehead. We couldn't figure out if they were sweat droplets or just breath condensation due to all the 'nasal warming'. He tried to locate the answer on the teacher's brain, which was now exclusively visible to Chirag. As if the teacher's normal exhale was not enough, he decided to let go a long sigh of disappointment on Chirag. Chirag stopped breathing with the fear of poisoning himself with carbon dioxide overdose. He had to do something quick. He had to think fast, save face. He had to come up with something before the next exhale!

Just when our teacher thought he had his prey in his grasp, Chirag asked with diligent innocence, "Can you please repeat the question, Sir?". The teacher realized what Chirag had done. He had killed two birds with one stone. First, he had bought himself precious time. If the teacher had to frame the long curvy question again, he would have to turn back and move away from Chirag. Hence, second, Chirag had earned himself the opportunity to inhale. Amidst the other students' mumbled laughter, the teacher turned back and started framing the question. Chirag had enough time to get the answer from someone else. The teacher reached the black board and turned back. Chirag answered with a nonchalance that might have made you think he knew the answer since 'Fair and Lovely' stopped sponsoring Ankit.

Moral of the story: If you want Chirag to think fast during an intense pressure situation, breathe on him.

C(ass)anovas

"Look at her man!", Chirag nudged me.
"Hmmm", I said.
"I am telling you man! No Hmmm! Ask Bhakti to introduce us".
"Chirag wait yaar. It will be weird to get introduced on Valentine's day man!"
"Thats all the more reason to do it. Dude... its the way you look at it... Come on! I can see she has a friend too... Even you can........"
"No no no no no no..... Chirag.................. NO!"
"BHAT MAN.... Let's do this together.... Please..."


That's all the convincing I needed. I looked around for Bhakti.... she was THE girl you needed if you wanted to get introduced to someone in college. It wasn't really difficult to spot her. She was hanging out with Ankit and a few guys. By then, Ankit was under the firm impression that not attending lectures was somehow meant for the greater good. This was because the only time Chirag and I had pushed him (no really...... PUSHED him) into the lecture hall to get his attendance to > 0%, was when the teacher failed to show up because she apparently fell sick. Since that day, Ankit swore never to attend a lecture owing to the good health of teachers all over the world. Don't worry, you are not the only one choking up.


I didn't feel guilty when I had to interrupt Bhakti's cacophonous high pitched laughter for two reasons. Firstly, Ankit coming up with smart one liners wasn't a rare phenomenon. Secondly, bats deserved to sleep during daytime. Although it was just a formality, I asked her if she knew the girl who was making Chirag sway around a tree with one hand. She obviously did. In 2 minutes she came back with a huge smile on her face. "Alright guys.... they got to go somewhere.. but coincidentally they were checking you out too... I told them you will meet them under that tree at 2 today afternoon... And yes... Chirag... your girl is Shweta.. and Bhat.. Deepa".


1:50 p.m. "Chirag... This doesn't feel right man", my voice box never felt so dry.
"Dude, just follow my lead".
"Chirag.... Its embarassing... It really is..."
"What?!"
"Chirag.. I said its embarassing..."
"Bhat.. Its not embarassing ok............................ Its awkward...."
"So what!!!"
"All I am saying is... embarassing is not the right word for this situation.... Awkward just fits better..."

Looking at Chirag with disbelief while gulping air in, we headed for 'the tree'.

"Bhat really.... Just follow my lead. You don't look comfortable. Let me do the talking...."

Somehow Chirag managed to make me feel a tad bit better. All I had to do was follow Chirag's lead. I was prepared to be led. We could see the girls standing under the tree. I was hoping Chirag would give me one final dose of nonchalant confidence before we went in....

"Bhat... Really.... Trust me on this one... I won't tell you anything just for the heck of it. I am sure awkward fits much better.... "

It was too late to react.... we were there...

The girls smiled. We smiled. Exhales all around.. One shot of inhales for everyone then. Silence. I looked at my leader. Chirag was looking into the horizon with a creased forehead with a concentration of 100 IIT students. I didn't know what to do. I rubbished the idea of duplicating the expression. 'Give him some time to get into his groove', I thought. I looked at him again. He had his hands dug up into his jeans pockets. Neck jutted out. Blowing puffs of air at regular intervals. Looking left and right... never looking at ..... Shweta was she? I don't know what the girls were doing because I, the casanova, was looking at Chirag. After I saw Chirag stand up on his toes and then back down for about 60 long seconds, I thought I had to do something. I had to save the situation. With that firm resolve, I turned back and started walking to base camp. In the subdued confusion, I forgot to tell Chirag I was leaving. After about 10 seconds when he thought he had made the entire horizon towards his left blush, he turned to his right to discover I wasn't there. After making a small 'mmch' noise, he turned back and ironically followed me.

We reached the canteen area with an expression as if Mahatma Gandhi had slapped us. Bhakti welcomed us with naughty eyes. Jabbing our shoulders and ruffling our hair she goes.... "SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..... How did it goooooooooooooooo... huh huh huh huh huh..... " while punching our stomachs. We looked at each other; and then we told her. NOW her punches actually started hurting. "Wh.......................y? Go back.... go back RIGHT NOW.... ".

We were on the dreaded path once again. "Bhat... I am feeling more confident now... This time.. I got it... Just follow my lead... ", Chirag said. My emotions were as clueless as Shetty was during his Bangalore CET written Kannada test.

I have to hand it to those girls. They were still there... standing under Bodh Gaya. As soon as we reached the place... Chirag went back into his 'What the hell is happening... As if I care.." posture. Someone had got to say something. Anything. ANYTHING.

"Which stream?", I asked. I really should have let Chirag say something. "Which stream?" it seems. All credit to Deepa, she was kind. She told me she was from Arts with a pleasant smile. I felt more comfortable. I looked at Chirag. He was trying to move a small stone 20 metres away with his eyes. Deepa and I spoke for about 2 minutes about stuff that only great conversations are made of. Our 10th standard marks - itemised subject wise. All this while, Shweta was trying hard to make eye contact with Chirag. Chirag was too busy figuring out whether the metal object he made contact with in his pocket was a 50 paise coin or a 5 rupee coin.

Meanwhile, the conversation between Deepa and me was steering to unimaginable flirtatious directions - our caste. It turned out we were both originally from South India. She asked where in South India I was from. I told her I was born and brought up in Bombay but my dad is from Karnataka. She told me where her parents were from. The conversation was getting too hot to handle. But Deepa was unstoppable... She asked me which SPECIFIC part of Karnataka I was from. Attention to detail I tell you. I told her I was from Udipi. I was just about to shed my inhibitions and get downright dirty by asking her what her surname was when Chirag unslumbered.

The first 2 words that Chirag uttered for Shweta were probably the most weird 2 words he would have ever asked a person upfront. In a suavely confident and loud manly voice he goes, "WHICH VILLAGE?". I looked at Chirag with 'What?' eyes, 'Why?' hands and a 'How?' pout. 'Awkward' could be used perfectly to describle the 15 seconds silence that followed. I don't know how our conversation ended. I really don't remember.

Well, I just spoke to Chirag and he helped me demystify the end. Yes, we somehow managed to exchange numbers. We didn't have cell phones then. I wrote the numbers in my phone diary (oooo) against the names 'Deepa' and 'Shweta Village'. I remember receiving a couple of calls from Deepa after which, for reasons that I am not going to delve into, I started ignoring them. Chirag and my problems share a sort of a love-hate relationship. He builds them and he solves them. I was at Chirag's place one day when Chirag picks up the phone. It was Deepa.

After looking at my frantic gestures, he managed to tell Deepa that I had just left his place. As he continued talking to her for a bit, I almost felt sorry for pulling Chirag's leg a little too many times. Before I could spank myself as punishment, Chirag hangs up the phone and in his best mischievous voice (and his famous ear to ear smile of course) says, "Dude, I told her to call your place in 15 minutes!".

"Chiraag man... This is NOT cool man...". It didn't come out as serious I had thought because I couldn't help but appreciate the subtleness of the prank. I rushed back home while thinking what to do next. There was only one person who would help me in this situation. Chirag.

I picked up the phone as soon as I got home and dialled Chirag's number. "Chirag, you have to help me.... Please....".

"Ya ya I know. I was waiting for your call", he said. We spoke for over two hours till the second call beep stopped beeping. 'Phew!' we both thought. That was close. I thanked Chirag and we hung up proudly. We had everything under control. Nothing can go wrong now. I turned back and felt a huge thud on my cheek. It was my Mom.

"What happened? Why are you slapping me?!!!!"

"What's wrong with you? I forgot my keys.. I have been stuck outside for 2 hours and you haven't been picking up my calls!!!!"

This episode changed a lot of things. We stopped believing in Valentine's Day. Bhakti made Chirag write down "How is it going?" a 1000 times in his notebook, just in case another opportunity arose. My parents cut my allowance and bought a caller id with the profit. What didn't change was Ankit's attendance.

Fake IPL Player @#$!#$#$$^$%&!!#!$#$%@

There’s a new blog that seems to have grabbed the eyeballs. No it’s not this; it’s the Fake IPL player blog. Now the reason why we are spending blog time with this article is that Bhat and me (hopefully Shetty too) believe that it’s shocking to see people enjoying this blog; as Bhat puts it- shockingly shallow.
People love it, Google trends on the blog reports a phenomenal number of visitors in the last month. Now who is this person, the speculation grows. But our point being, we do not see anything amazing in this blog. It’s a mere publicity stint or a cricketer who did not make money from this lucrative sport!!!
The curiosity in me wonders about how this blog in such a short time got so famous. IPL started in mid April, and in 2 weeks the blog gains a fan following in millions. Either this guy has one hell of a marketing mind or is extremely lucky. How many people (assuming this blog is true) will want to screw their careers as well as write weird stuff online without wanting someone to read it?
People, read this blog instead, it has more quality and logic embedded in it.

Yuva!!!

Recently on a Lazy Saturday afternoon, I caught up with a relatively new Hindi movie-Yuva. I had seen the movie when it was released 5-6 years ago but it managed to grab my attention again. The central theme of the movie was young minds in Indian Politics.
With the ongoing general elections, I connected better with the movie’s ideology and hence began a thought process that made me pen this down. I would love to see more young minds in politics; but what really defines a young mind?
As I come across articles that talk about this, it seems as though a Young Mind is a youth in line with what today’s generation’s wants- a 30 year old something in comparison to a 50 year old.
Now this is where my understanding takes a full stop! How does this concept make sense; what I believe India needs is, a politician who can reach out to both the youth and the not so youth.
I love the tag name- largest democratic nation in the world, but it seems as though this has also been a hindrance. In this whole process of adopting the best concepts from the top nations we seemed to have been short sighted. And of course let me not go down the corruption path. Don’t get me wrong but I respect people with Government jobs and I feel for them when I hear that they feed a family on Rs.2-3K per month – which is ridiculous for the amount of tax people pay. If one was to open a local newspaper (online for me) almost every page highlights the gap between the legislation and implementation
Basically I don’t think I care it’s a 30 or an 80 year old politician, I want a better country to live in; and yes I am frustrated!!!

IGNORANCE IS BLISS

BHAT. If you have Bhat in your life you don't need enemies, but that's for other people cos I know at least my life would have been a lot duller if not for him. He has tried all his antics possible on me so much so that I have become as immune as chirag is to hair straighteners(curly hair guys). We became friends 7 years quite coincidently but things hit off like house on fire. When I say immune I can proudly say I am one of the few who can handle him around without begging god for forgiveness and a new found belief in karma.

But there is one thing that stumps me..which has for a long long time.. It's the ease with which he makes people confess their darkest secrets... all of them being embarrassing moments in their lives… And then he tortures them with me most of the time. Believe me he makes it a point they don't forget it ever...and surprisingly the cycle continues even as I write.

One of them has been Chirag..(heheheheeheheheh). Chirag has been a victim innumerable times. But there is one incident which stands out..even for bhat it stands out .. I needed a separate blog to write it..

CHIRAG.. He likes to be different so he didn't go through the same chain of events as any teenager would...which in turn lead to a lot of ignorance and misconceptions.. And he didn't have any qualms in coming to us to clear them. For us, when it comes to pure fun even your best friend is your enemy ... We cant get emotional on that.. it's the foundation of our friendship..

This was six years back.. One evening Bhat was relaxing at home thinking about how he will ambush this guy in college and get his bottle of boiled water and empty it.. I was home thinking whether the guy with the bottled water will take the same path as that everyday so that things became simpler for us.. Chirag was home trying to solve one the biggest mysteries possible.. He had spent quite a few sleepless nights thinking about it. Who would be the best person to ask this question to? He was at the borderline of desperation he gave up the thought of calling Sherlock Holmes and picked the better option (or so he thought) of calling Bhat (I still don't get it guys!).

Bhat answers ..they go through the usual pleasantries which got Bhat excited...he knew he was going somewhere real solid and absolute bliss... He sensed a tinge of nervousness in Chirag's quivering voice. Foreseeing that Chirag might back out of whatever that he had called him for, he hit the hammer right away.

"Hey Chirag is everything alright? What's wrong yaar?!", Bhat asked with a concern which would put mother teresa to shame.

"Err hmm.. nothin yaar.. I was thinking of asking you something........ but…"

"Yah go on Chirag", said Bhat sounding as understanding as possible (Bhat had his prey in sight).....Chirag hesitated, "Err....hmmmm... I don't know how to ask you?"

Bhat's reply, "Chiraag it's me!! ... Come on!", trying to sound surprised and assuring at the same time, a feature of Bhat that all you guys should be aware of.. To emphasize with him more he repeated... "Chirag its just me...you can talk about anything to me ...what are friends for man!", while mumbling a silent prayer with a smile. Chirag slipped. He took a long enough breath to be audible through the phone. Bhat was sure he would hear Chirag's inscrutable question before he took the next breath.

"Ok Bhat… Promise me you will keep it between us!"

"Chiraaag!", Bhat said. I don't know why Chirag took that as a yes.

" Ok. It's not a big deal yaar.. I just wanted to know what ORAL SEX is?", Chirag mumbled under his own breath..... Bhat's eyes lit up. He paused to digest the moment and but not for long for Chirag to lose confidence in him.

Now a lesser man would have taken an obvious route frome there; by making fun of him right there. Not Bhat. He wanted to squeeze every ounce of juice out of this one.

"What do YOU think it is Chirag", ….. this changed the course all together.

Now Chirag paused. Bhat took control, "Chirag I am asking you cos you may already know what it is. What is the point of me telling you what it is when you already know. In future you won't feel like I have told you.... yaar go on.. it's just me and you..we are old enough to talk about it and not get embarassed... I am glad you brought this up"

"Hmmm… I don't know man……"

Bhat decided to take a final hurl. It was risky, but it was worth a shot. It was what he called crisis control. .. "Chirag, but I must admit, I am surprised that you of all people don't know about this". There was silence. Bhat cursed himself in the head for ruining the entire thing. After 5 seconds he realised he had hit Chirag at the right spot or should I say.. the G spot.

Chirag took another long breath. "I know yaar. Doesn't oral sex mean when you talk about it"

"Talk about what Chirag?", Bhat trying his level best to keep his laughter in his nostrils.

"Dude, when you talk about sex to people its called oral sex right?"

Bhat choked. He had reached the threshold. His reply was classic (with laughter almost strangulating him), "Chirag I will call you back ..I need to speak to Shetty RIGHT NOW!"

"Oh Shit!!!!! Bhat…. You promised…. BHAAAT… Shit… Bhat….", Bhat hung up with Chirag shouting for his life...". Chirag immediately hung up and tried calling me just to hear that my phone was engaged. Bhat took about 10 minutes to tell me the entire thing, the only thing delaying the story was our screaming laughter. I called Chirag right after… "So Chirag… A little birdie told me you had oral sex with Bhat a few minutes back huh!".And he knew he has been scarred for life from then and still wishes he has a time machine..

Bhat is doing his phd.I will do one on Bhat just to figure out wat do they see in him that they bare everything they can.Chirag is a wiser man today .He googles everything since then.And we try to be as careful as possible when talking to him about controversial topics cos we may just be in the middle of some hardcore oral sex.

The day Chirag made this blog for us; he knew this story would come up eventually. I guess I will end this right here. I am little tired with all the "written sex"!

The Ironical Jawani -Diwani

My love for Gujarati women was seamless; it was not like I did not like anyone from other parts of the country but everyone has a soft corner for something-mine was for Gujarati Women. I can't pin down a reason for the same, but all I knew was that I had a thing for the Mehta's and Shah's of my generation.

People have had fun of my affection, especially the effervescent Bhat and the playful Shetty. Shetty was my partner in crime, a friend indeed, he would walk with me for miles without knowing the danger that lies ahead. His fun filled child like features of climbing ropes, mazes in the garden was fun for all the Mehta's and Shah's who used to tag along with us. It helped me a lot as I seemed mature and stable in front of such madness. This certainly does not mean that I did not help Shetty in his endeavors, I did, I used to give him pointers to woo his lady, she was a smart Alec and so Shetty would cycle to the Study Library every evening just to impress her.

Bhat on the other hand was aloof from such tricks, he had his own issues with a girl who used to write letters for him in Red...Pen not blood....would 'fast' for his longevity and would openly express her love for him. Bhat was a celebrity in our school for mesmerizing a female to this extent.

I, on the other hand, to impress the Gujarati folks had taken some extreme steps- Stopped eating Non-veg for nearly five years (to compensate, I eat only Non veg now). It was a terrible time for me especially since it was the time that Bhat, Shetty and me had joined forces in Junior college and this was a jolly good time for the two Non Veg eaters(read:hoggers). I felt the mockery at every restaurant we visited together. There was one particular incident I remember which had 'Dirty' written all over it; Bhat, Ankit , Shetty and me had been to McDonald's and had take aways of our meals to enjoy at my place. Bhat and Ankit on the way home sneakily exchanged the veg and nov veg meals to make me realize what I have been missing (read: have their own little fun). Shetty and me had got the exchanged one's and unknowingly began eating, I knew something was wrong with the taste and Shetty knew his Chicken tasted very different but he ate the whole thing as I wondered,that's when Ankit and Bhat began their hysterical laughs and untold the mystery. An upset me was compensated with a free plate of Chole Samosa.

All through the two years of Junior college, Shetty would tease and torment me for falling for a Mehta, whereas Bhat would torment at a higher capacity- Gujarati. Whilst Shetty remained specific, Bhat had taken the generalist path.

Ironically, Life had taken a twist for our two tormentors when we were in our degree school's-Bhat's first GF was a GUJARATI (totally unexpected and "Ironic") and Shetty's first GF was a MEHTA ("Highly Ironic").........

The right turn that was never right....

Continuing with the bike extravaganza, Shetty and I didn't have any major major accident as far as I can remember. The biggest one I do recollect also turned out to be one of the funnier moments that we have shared.

Magellan and I were travelling on a very crowded two way road close to Thane station. There were many right turns that one could take, but it just so happened that we had to take one specific turn. Ofcourse, as always, I had no clue where we were going. Shetty was usually in charge of where we were going and that day was no exception. I should also mention that Shetty abandoned his relativity theory (read previous post) after Einstein himself came in one of Shetty's dreams and personally refuted it. This then, made the whole process of turning a lot easier.

The dividerless-road was very busy, with cycles, buses, cars and rickshaws all over the place. Pedestrians with suicidal tendencies didn't make things easier. We might have been travelling at about 30-40 km/hr. There was a right turn coming ahead of us. For some reason I thought this was the turn we were supposed to take. I was waiting for Shetty's order. The turn was right here. I was ready to swerve as soon as Shetty told me to. He didn't. Obviously that wasn't the turn then. I scolded myself inside my head and told myself to not make any predetermined turn unless told by Shetty. The turn was almost unturnable when Shetty shouted... "Right right right!!! right right... Bhat right... sorry.. right!!"

I must confess I was a bit panic stricken then. I went for it with the least confidence. Of course, as always, things turned into slow motion. It was almost as if my ears became extra sensitive to the innumerable horns and abuses that came from behind. But I knew I had a job to do. I started to take a sharp turn. The kinetic was now halfway into the turn and was wobbling due to my rock  steady hands! Shetty and I could still see a possibility of making it alive to the road to our right, where we wanted to go. We were just about to heave a sigh of relief when Shetty yelled "Shit! Sorry sorry, straight straight.. sorry Bhat.. straight straight... that's a one way... Bhat straight... sorry!"

If we had to get back on the road, I would have to take a turn as sharp as Chirag's vision when he spots a Gujarathi girl. I went for it without looking into the rear view mirror. Any vehicle coming from behind was my least concern..... I was wrong. It should have been my primary concern. I managed to get the bike on the road but in the process went and parallelly bumped into a rickshaw. I don't know what happened, but the kinetic and the rickshaw stuck to each other somehow. It was almost like the rickshaw and kinetic were Jai and Veeru travelling aside each other at 30 km/hr. We couldn't get the kinetic to separate. We were riding right next to the rickshaw, both of us trying our best to unglue. That was not the problem though.

"Bhaaat", Shetty screamed. I looked back to see Shetty halfway into the rickshaw. His left leg was inside the passenger seat. I was desperately trying to get away but to no avail. Shetty put his left arm inside the rickshaw just so that he could push himself out. Then the unthinkable happened.

The rickshaw in which Shetty was almost in was not any rickshaw. It was a rickshaw with a mother and her teenage daughter right at the cusp of puberty. Out of nowhere half the girl's dupatta flew and covered Shetty's face, making him blind in this very sensitive situation. Completely oblivious to the fact that this was actually an accident, the mother took it upon herself to save her daughter from this lecherous man. That was her ultimate goal. She thought Shetty was actually trying to get INTO the rickshaw because of her daughter! I heard huge thumps from behind. I looked back and saw the mother slapping Shetty's thighs hard. "Aaaaaaah!!!!!" Shetty screamed. "Bhat!!! Do something man.. .Please... ", while trying not to be suffocated.

"Go away!.. get away from my daughter!!... I won't let you come close to her.... ", thump, thump...... slap slap. Shetty was sweating. He got his right hand into action now in a dire attempt to get the dupatta off his face while trying to frantically explain that he was in no mood or position to rape anyone. "No Aunty, its not like that..... its an accident... "

PINCH..... 

"Oh Shit!! Aunty please!!!! Believe me..... I am stuck here... stop pinching me!!!"

 THUMP.... 

"Aunty!!!! Bhat! I can't see anything! Do something... Believe me aunty!! IT IS AN ACCIDENT!! I am not trying to ......Aunty... I am not that kind of a guy who looks at girls aunty... I mean I like girls... but not like your daughter.. Not that she is not loveable! Shit! I mean.. I dont LOVE her.... I haven't even looked at her yet!No NO!! I don't mean to look at her aunty! Who would want to look at her in this situation!! I mean... Bhat please yaar!!! Aunty.... Please!!!"

This went on for about half a minute, but it seemed like half a day. Somehow we managed to get disentangled from the rickshaw just after Shetty managed to untwine the dupatta. We don't know how. We don't care how! We just did. No one was hurt. Well.. no one but Shetty. His left thigh might have been blood red, what with all the spanks. The rickshawvalla was kind enough to not charge us by the meter for the time Shetty was in it. The mother probably would still be proud of herself for saving her daughter. I am sure it would make a great tea time story with the girl's in laws.