My two-week vacation in wonderful London was over, it was time to return to my birthplace.
One thing stood between me and the jet airliner that would carry me home&mdash;the dreaded entry into that &lsquo; metallic buzzer&rsquo; thingy, to be body scanned&mdash; that small cubicle that could potentially reveal&mdash;&nbsp;
1. The small &ldquo;silencer&rdquo; tucked away in my sock.
2. The silver filling in my fourth molar.&nbsp;
3. The ten rupee coin lost in the inner lining of my jeans pocket.
I prayed, stepping into that 1970s Star Trek &ldquo;Beam me up Scotty&rdquo; gizmo, for silence.
No such luck.
&ldquo;Anything in yer pockets, guv,&rdquo; asked the giant uniformed man, a lookalike Dwayne Johnson in his&nbsp;&ldquo;The Rock&rdquo; days.
&ldquo;Nope&rdquo;
&ldquo;Guv, can&rsquo;tcha read the sign? It says &lsquo;remove anything metallic from your person&rsquo;&hellip; that&rsquo;s a chain around your neck, innit?&rdquo;
&ldquo;Haanji,&rdquo; I agreed The Rock, stopped, the scowl replaced by some smouldering sunniness &ldquo;Wha&rsquo; didja sayy, sir?&rdquo; he asked, the Cockney twang quite distinct.
&ldquo;Haanji... chain hai.&rdquo;
&ldquo;Where you from,&rdquo; The Rock asked &ldquo;India.&rdquo;
&ldquo;Which part?&rdquo; &nbsp;The Rock asked &ldquo;Mumbai.&rdquo;
&ldquo;Which part?&rdquo; The Rock persisted
&ldquo;Uhm&hellip; Colaba...&rdquo;
&ldquo;Ohhh posh&hellip; Mira Road, this side,&rdquo; he informed, as he patted me down, a tad gentler than before.
&ldquo;Mira Road is quite cool,&rdquo; &nbsp;I attempted, hoping that would get me through the &ldquo;frisk&rdquo; faster.
&ldquo;Nonsense, Mira Road is the boonies, mate&hellip; whydya think we left Bhayandhar for Brick Lane?&rdquo;
&ldquo;Foo who?&rdquo; he asked, inspecting the tag around my neck.
&ldquo;Foo Fighters&hellip; it&rsquo;s a rock band.&rdquo;
&ldquo;Tsk tsk praaji&hellip; tussi kiss tarah de ajeeb desi ho? Daler Mehndi&hellip; saada apna banda ae&hellip; Tunak Tunak Tun&hellip; that&rsquo;s the tune&hellip;&rdquo;, and I could swear he did a tiny &ldquo;bhangra&rdquo;.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m Jeff&hellip; by the way&hellip; aka Jaswinder Singh Sondhi, from Patiala&hellip; have a safe flight,&rdquo; as we pumped fists.
I felt a well-earned beer and fries was in order.
&ldquo;What can I get for you, sir?&rdquo; the waiter asked.
&ldquo;A beer and some fries.&rdquo;
&ldquo;You Indian?&rdquo; he asked &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
&ldquo;Guess where I&rsquo;m from?&rdquo; he asked
&ldquo;Uhm Pakistan...&rdquo;
His face went from sunshine to thundershowers.
&ldquo;Sorry, India,&rdquo; I said. Sunshine was back.
&ldquo;You are correct sir, now guess which part?&rdquo;
My fries and beer seemed very far off.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll give you a hint... I&rsquo;m from the South part of India.&rdquo;
Oh no... please God, I just wanna get on that flight home.
&ldquo;Eenie meenie minah moh catch a Tamilian by his toe&hellip; or Malyali or Kannadiga,&rdquo; I thought.
&ldquo;I&rsquo;m Mangalorean!&rdquo; he announced, cheerfully
&ldquo;Where you from, sir?&rdquo;
&ldquo;Mumbai,&rdquo; I said &ldquo;Ah big city&hellip; Bollywood&hellip; Shah Rukh Khan&hellip; Sunny Leone!&rdquo;
Post the beer, I thought, one quick visit to the loo at Heathrow&hellip; nothing can come in the way&hellip; 30 secs and I&rsquo;m out&hellip; ah yes, nature beckons.
And then in the quiet confines of the &ldquo;Gents&rdquo;&hellip; no, no it cannot be, could I be hearing things? Yes, it was clearly Konkani being spoken by two people.
I turned around&mdash;indeed the two cleaners were conversing in the father tongue.
I could have walked away quietly, instead I asked.
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re both from Goa?&rdquo;
The cleaning stopped, the mops came to attention.
&ldquo;Hoei,&rdquo; they said in unision
&ldquo;Which part are you both from?&rdquo;
&ldquo;Mapusa!&rdquo; said Mrs Doubtfire.
&ldquo;Margao,&rdquo; said Mr Doubtfire.
&ldquo;Which part you prefer?&rdquo; they asked, in chorus.&nbsp;
Oh boy, a North Goa vs South Goa conflict in the men&rsquo;s toilet of London Heathrow!
My flight had been announced and they were blocking my entrance.
And then it hit me&hellip; divide and conquer.
&ldquo;I like South Goa for the beaches, North Goa for the food&hellip; but I like Central Goa for Panjim&hellip;capital city.&rdquo;
Mrs and Mr Doubtfire looked at me askance, they finally agreed on something, I was a bit crazy.
But as I walked away, Mr and Mrs Doubtfire waved me good bye&mdash;the gloomy monotony of a London Heathrow Airport toilet a far cry from the glorious confusion of a Mapusa market.&nbsp;
&ldquo;When you going Goa, maka saangshi?&rdquo;
&ldquo;Soon,&rdquo; I said... &ldquo;Adeus.&rdquo;
&ldquo;Dev Borem Karum,&rdquo; the lady said, as she ended with a sign of the cross.
Rahul daCunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahul.dacunha@mid-day.com
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“Anything in yer pockets, guv,” asked the giant uniformed man, a lookalike Dwayne Johnson in his “The Rock” days

Margao-Heathrow to Mumbai

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