IdeaGrenade: fiction

Sex, Pervert, Shopping mall.

Written by Kaber Vasuki on 3/29/2009 02:37:00 PM

Shopping mall. Sexy girl in lime green tees and faded jeans. I find a place to sit and I watch. She's going through the ray-bans. Not this one, not that one. She' got style. Ouch, she drops one. She's bending down to pick it up. Good girl, bend a little more. I saw something there. It's the kind that makes t-shirt captions go three-d. Too bad the lime green tee didn't have any caption. There, she found one she likes. She's showing it to her boyfriend. He notices that I'm staring at her. He gives an odd look. Rule number one is "You are not doing anything wrong till you reveal guilt". They pay and leave. I get up and walk around a little. I whistle. You'd have whistled too if you'd seen her. Such legs. I don't even remember her face now. The legs will stay with me till I die. God bless the magazines that say mini-skirts are in.

"Hey"

I turn around to find Suja, my girlfriend. She is looking hot. I'd never noticed that she had such smooth curves.

"You're looking good today" I say as we hug.

Glass breaks. We turn around. Sexy legs and her boy friend are surrounded by a group of saffron clad thugs.

"You marry him right now, or you tie this rakhi. That is it."

I look at Suja, and she looks back at me. We just stand there. Always remember rule number one.

Sexy legs slaps the thug. Bad move sweet heart. Suja grabs my hand and we are gone before they notice.

"You know Neha, sometimes it's good that we are different" she says giving me a sexy smile.

"I know" I smile back, and we break into a giggle.

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Hippie Santa and Rajinikanth

Written by Kaber Vasuki on 12/14/2008 02:35:00 PM

My barber is the kind of man who’d stand out anywhere. He occupies most of his cramped saloon himself, has a mop of hair from the Rajinikanth seventies and laughs like Santa Clause. He has never missed the first day, first show of any Rajini movie till date.

“I am painting thalaivar on my door” he said one day.

I had just entered and was sitting on a plastic chair awaiting my turn, reading a Tamil magazine.

“Where?” I looked at him.

He was sliding a razor across the shaving foam on someone’s face. The guy didn’t seem to care what we were talking about.

“On the door thambi, the shop’s door”

He was going to paint Rajinikanth on his saloon’s door.

“Your thalivar might not like that” I said.

He looked at me like I’d said something stupid. Rajinikanth, had issued a notice long back asking people to stop using his pictures without his consent. He did not like people misusing his image.

I explained all that to hippie Santa.

He paused for a moment inspecting the foam on the other guy’s face.

“It doesn’t matter” he said as he restarted scrapping away the foam. “Who’s going to see anyway?”

The next time I went for a haircut, I saw Rajini on the saloon door. Head held high, the setting sun forming a halo behind his profile, smiling in that innocently narcissistic way that only he can. It was a perfect replica of a famous picture, the one from Thalapathy.

I stood there for a second, admiring the even spread of paint on the glass door and the way it played with the light. Then I opened the door, went in and sat on a plastic chair to wait for my turn.

“How is it thambi?” my barber asked turning away from someone’s hair.

“Really good” I said, smiling. The guy getting his hair cut didn’t seem to mind our talking.

“How much did it cost you?” I asked.

“Nothing”

“Nothing! Who does paintings for free?”

He looked at me like I’d said something stupid, again.

“Rajesh. He is from the fan club”

“Rajini’s fan club?”

Santa nodded.

So much talent was roaming our streets painting free pictures of Rajinikanth. Incredible, India!

“Does he paint other things?”

“He used to paint for movies, on walls, but who needs painters nowadays thambi. Every poster is combuter printed”

I looked at my barber. I looked at the image of Rajini on the glass door, the light coming through. I thought about Rajesh, shrugged, took a Tamil magazine from a plastic chair, and started reading.

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Gods discuss the IdeaGrenade

Written by Kaber Vasuki on 4/04/2000 03:23:00 PM

God1: The idea grenade, have you thrown it already?

God2: At earth? Yeah I did that.

God1: Ha! And it's name?

God2: I decided it should be a guy. Sathyanarayanan Kavassery is what the parents are calling him.

God1: Weird name (laughs)

God2: But his friends call him Kaber Vasuki.

God1: That's even weirder.

God2: He's the idea grenade remember.

An angel with a huge neon halo pops in between them both

Neon Angel: Gods, we have a problem.

God1: Turn that thing off first!

God2: (Under his breadth) teen-angels

Neon Angel: (turning off the neon halo) God2, you forgot to pull the pin when you threw the grenade.

God1: The idea grenade! (looks menacingly at God2)

God2: Oh, my. (whimpers)