Main aur mere Kaamwale Boys

Jobs that suck, atrocious weather, travelling by local trains, house-hunting, living away from home, and I had thought that Mumbai had tortured me enough. I was, obviously, wrong.
 
Ankit and I wanted to live the good life. And we decided, after painful encounters with Mumbai's Kaamwali Bais ("Main undergarments nahi dhoegi aur ghar zyada ganda nahi chahiye aur bedsheet roz roz dhone nahi dalne ka aur....... khich-khich, chik-chik!!"), that we shall keep a full-time flunk to cook for us, do all the household chores etc, get cigarettes for Ankit when he ran out of them, have no qualms about washing our underwear and...  let us make the house as dirty as we possibly could. We did not know, then, that this was going to be a big fucking mistake.
 
So, let's look at the various kaamwale boys we have had:
 
1) Hero Hiralal
 

Our first was a decent chap - short, lanky, malnourished, polite, hardworking. He looked very very decent. And apart from the fact that he occasionally wore these ghastly KRK-inspired glittering shirts, we had absolutely no issues with him. He made amazing Aloo ke Paranthe - and that is the one reason why we missed him the most. He also kept the house spic-and-span. When Ankit's parents came visiting, he won their hearts like a susheel bahu. And then one day, the devil played his dirty game.
Imagine. You are called at work and told that your domestic flunk has locked himself up and is not opening the door. You rush home to find 300 angry Marathis standing at your door baying for the blood of your Bihari servant - accusing him of molesting a school-girl. You break into the house (with the help of the angry mob) to find the flunkie crying, in a state of delirium, pleading innocent. You manage to save his life but the flunkie is now an outcast. He should never be seen in Kurla again. The real truth will never be known. But we got to know that the mob's definition of 'molesting' was talking to the girl on the road ("Iske iraade theek nahi the"). And we lost our best kaamwala boy to date. 
 
2) Two-timer


Then we got someone who was already working at a friend's place to also work for us. He was ok except for the fact that he gave us this step-motherly treatment.  
He was a little lazy but he worked when told. And he always seemed to spend all the money the same day we gave him. And we used to wonder how. Finally he went to his gaon with two months' advance salary and never returned. Worst thing was we were, once again, left at the mercy of temporary kaamwali bais.

3) Kaliya
 
The third guy looked the kamina type. Let's refer to him as Kaliya. He loved throwing all our stuff away when we were not at home (giving stupid explanations like 'mujhe laga kaam ka nahi tha'). He broke everything precious we ever owned. You get a family pack of ice-cream and leave it in the fridge. It's gone by the time you get back home. You get 10 packets of Lays Chips for the party you will throw over the weekend. Nothing can be found on Saturday morning. Fruits, dry-fruits, churan, he used to hog everything like crazy. Our ration budget went up at least four times. And, one day, when he crossed the line (by answering back), we decided to throw him out.
 
4) Psycho
 
This guy came highly recommended through a friend's friend's friend. He was a little old and so we were apprehensive from the very beginning. It hadn't even been a day when he showed his true colours.
He gets up early in the morning and starts knocking on our doors to wake us - it was a weekend for heaven's sake! Then he says something funny:
"Bhabhi ko bol dijiye taiyaar ho jaye, naashta ready hai"
We looked at each other with suspicion. When all three of us shrugged, we told him, "Yahan koi Bhabhi nahi hai"
"Abhi to thi wahan saari pehne huye"
Then without waiting for an answer he runs into the kitchen. We leave it at that, thinking he may have seen Ankit (with his small frame) and thought it was a girl.
 
Evening 10 PM: We are having dinner.
Psycho comes to us, looking pensive. "Main aapko pehle se hi bata deta hoon. Police aane wali hai aapko pakadne". We choke on our food.
"Aisa kya kar diya tumne?"
"Maine? Maine kya kiya hai? Raat ko aap log hi to sab kar rahe the"
"Kya kar rahe the hum?" 
"Yahan 20-25 logon ko bulakar aaplog andhere mein puja kar rahe the. Kahin baithne ki jagah nahi thi. Aap log zor zor se mantra ka jaap kar rahe the"
"Hum teeno apne apne kamre mein so rahe the. Aapne sapna dekha hoga. Aur police kahan se aayi beech mein?"
"Mujhe mat batao. Main sab jaanta hoon. Yahan, wahan, sab jagah log khade the. Bathroom mein, balcony mein teen log, Kitchen mein.... main jakar neeche garage mein soya. Itna shor. Baki building ke logon ne police mein complaint likha di hai" he looked scared, and dead serious.
"Isne bhoot to nahi dekha?"
Several shots from Ramgopal Verma's horror flicks flashed before our eyes. What if the house HAD ghosts.
 
We called the watchman. He confirmed that the guy had slept in the garage in the night. But he hadn't heard any noise. Then the psycho threw his trump card.
"Aap log mujhe kal raat ko kitna maar rahe the! Kutte ki tarah patti bandhkar mujhe ghumaya. Sab mujhe laat mar rahe the!"
 
He was obviously hallucinating. We got so scared we immediately (at 11 in the night) called his family members, packed his bags, called a taxi, gave the taxiwala money and his brother's address and parceled him back.
 
5) Marathi Manoos


Next was our first and last marathi flunk. He was lazy no 1. He was with us only for a day half of which he slept through. And then he announced that there was too much work so he couldn't do it! 
 
6) Shehenshah
 
Next guy lasted some time. He had this gorkha look and was polite. He kept the house extremely dirty but we were so desperate by now that we didn't say anything. He also wore his pants very low so that half his ass was exposed - we didn't bother unless some female friends were to come over.
Then one night, he drank all of Ankit's daru, took Arjun's car-keys, took the car out from the garage and rammed in into another one. He apologized profusely when he came to his senses but we had to throw him out after that.
 
I am forgetting about a couple of others who came and went like a whiff of stale air, only leaving the nausea behind.


With Sonia now to deal with the kaamwali bai, my life is a lot simpler. Married Life. Good Life.

PS: After I have been threatened with dire consequences if I even as much as try to suggest watching Prince, I have given up on my aspiration of writing the review. Please don't thank me on this blog.