There were fumes emanating out of my cable TV guy’s ears. However, I sensed there was something deeper that seemed to be troubling Lobo Lobo
Illustration/Uday Mohite
Lobo Lobo came over wearing a helmet, a war helmet to be precise.
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“Uhm hello, Lobo Lobo… you wanna tell me?”
“Yes, yes Dikuna men, you want to know why I’m wearing dis on my head, na? Let me explain… it is a symbolic gesture… I am standing wid de peepul of Youkraine… dis damn Putin-Shootin fellow is invading dere country… neider dat Younited Nations or NATO-SHATO are toh objecting, so bindaas he’s going forward march… wot he tinks of ’imself, chhe? ’is mummy should put ’im over ’er knee and give ’im a good trashing men, bleddy fallow, wot he tinks… his pop owns Youkraine or sumting?”
There were fumes emanating out of my cable TV guy’s ears. However, I sensed there was something deeper that seemed to be troubling Lobo Lobo.
“Uhm Theo… you seem unduly perturbed.”
“You tink dis Russia attacking Youkraine is a small matter?” he challenged.
“No… I’m not suggesting…”
“Okay, okay Mr Rahul… I hate war men… okay…”
“So do we all, Lobo Lobo… who is in favour of such conflicts?”
“Wot you know about war, men… tell to me? ’ave you ever experienced it, first hand?”
“Yes… in 1971… the Indo-Pak war, I was nine years old… hiding as the planes flew over.”
“You tink because wen de Pak and us ’ad dat panga in 1971, dat was war? You did wot men, you were hiding during dose air strikes, your parents put black chart paper on de window frames.”
“Yes exactly…”
“Was dere bombing outside your ’ouse, Dikuna men?”
“Uhm no…”
“Were dere soldiers, wid machine guns… firing?”
“I can’t say that there were.”
“You saw big big wochyoucall, tanks rolling around in de streets outside…?”
“Now that you mention it..uhm no.”
“Did you observe buildings just collapsing and people dying?”
“Uh… definitely no!”
“Den you now nutting about war, got it Dikuna men… you know nutting!”
I waited as Lobo Lobo paused to reload.
“Bossie, to be born in a nation, where from de time you are a baby, all trough teenager hood, you ’ave to hide, you live in a war torn country. No joke men, soldiers in dat camouflaged outfit are parading outside your ’ouse, wid big big guns! Suddenly dere can be attacks bot on de land and in de air.”
My next few words were carefully chosen.
“Lobo Lobo… uhm… your experience of war seems to be first hand.”
“Dikuna men, I tell you sumting, I’ve never tolded anyone befoe, even now, wen a Diwali bomb goes off, or, you know, when a car backfires, I toh get a solid ‘jhatka’... it’s an instinct… I just recoil men, it reminds me of dose days…”
“You were in a war situation? Wot ‘days’ are you referring to?”
“I was in Kwait men, Kwait, dis is 1989-90… men… my company had sent me on a posting… I tought toh I would make some money for my family… I had been dere for one year… we heard on de radio dat dere were some tensions… and den dat Iraq invaded men, uffff… bleddy it was bloodshed on de streets men, I was stuck… how to get bak to Mumbai, I tought I was finished!”
“How did you return safely?” I asked frightened for my friend, but secretly fascinated.
“You saw dat movie, ‘Airlift’ wid dat chappie who’s in every blinking ad, Akshay Kumar, he plays dat businessman, who flew all de Indians out of Kwait?”
“Yes, I remember seeing the film”
“I was on dat plane men, dat businessman, got me out of Kwait… uff men, it was a close shave… socko tension!”
Lobo Lobo took a deep breath, as I could see the terrible memories flash before his eyes.
“Anyway forget it! I’m alive, na? But you see Dikuna men, I am protesting against dose Rooskies in my own way, understand…”
“Okay, that’s quite brave of you, Lobo Lobo… what’s the plan?”
“From today I will be banning the use of all Russian products in my life…”
“Okay… and what does that include, Lobo Lobo?”
“No more Vodka… got it, Dikuna men, no more vodka!” Lobo Lobo concluded.
Rahul daCunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahul.dacunha@mid-day.com
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