A Nobel Laureate, An Astronaut and Naseeruddin Shah –Too Much for an Old Mic like me.

  
Namasgaram , I am myself, Mr. Mic-Swamy. I belong to this place called the IIT
of Kharagpur; It is the Indian US of A. When I was very small, one toddler you can say, my parents, the good old Gramophones of yesteryears [ God Bless Them ] had high dreams for me like every decent Indian parent. Of course, they noted from our own superstar films that you can become an engineer by studying in an Engineering College but cannot become the president by studying in Madras Presidency College. One big bummer in the path of their dreams for my future. So, they chose the former and sent me here.

                                           
From childhood only my hero was Rajnikanth. Abba, yenna class, yenna action! Super! My hero noted that you can see tea in a teacup but not the whole world in the WorldCup. That was the, what you say, Turning Point in my sports life. I stopped watching the Blue Men of India.


So far away from home, I was also missing my mother. I thought then that I will get into this IT and Y2K thing because of what everyone called Motherboard. But my dreams crashed like one lungi falling off when I saw it! My Devi sang such lovely lullabies while all this size-zero thing did was to make horrible noises..hiss..chchk..bham. Chee, chee. Shameless thing! No decency it had only!
This whole world is about the tailam [oil] – cash, in more gentlemanly terms. So, without one job also how long I will last, you say? Finally, I went to this place called the Sound Systems Unit. If the motherboard and her assistants were noisy, this place was untolerable! Abbabaaa! My sensitive eardrums which could pick out even the slightest octave change in my Devi’s voice were now going crazy. Ayyappa Swamy sharanam Ayappa, Save me!! I screamed only.
But they had a job. All I had to do was to stand where they put me – and you know, those rascals, they stuck me to this unclean, cold piece of metal. It didn’t even look as first-class as the tons of Gold I had seen back home. God only knows when was the last time it had polished itself nicely! Third class! Full third class only!
                     
Anyway, I stopped grumbling when they told they will take care of me fully. It was then that I realised my worth. All big-big, long lines were useless without me. Everything had to be put to me for voice. Devi’s tutoring during childhood had shown me my success. Amma, you really are my Devi, i say! With that began my life and youth took off.
Twenty years later, I have remained more or less the same. No marriage, I am living with myself. I spend my time contemplating about life, the tasty coconut rice back home, how much gold is weighing now and so on. Now, two days ago they requested my permission that some fellow celebrities wish to accompany me on some lecture. You see, when guests come, they always come to local heroes like me and pay homage. Old is Gold, mind it. I am the only one they trust. Not these shiny loafers of nowadays with too many buttons and switches.
Of course, I did my background work like any veteran before consenting. This was a festival of the modern world. Lots of young students, some old people, some crazy dancing which I absolutely disapproved of at first sight itself! It reminded me of the motherboard only! If only, time had worsened things! But my job was admired and respected. Thousands would attend when I was to be on stage, they told me. I readied myself for a comeback.
                   
I was given a luxurious bath and put to a new rod. Thankfully clean! Over the years they had learnt better than to put me off with those dirty metal pieces. Cables came. The power was on. Sounds checked. And LIGHTS! The stage – my homeground.

First was a nobel Laureate. An old man with white hair. I liked him, my generation you see. But he was talking and talking like he was dancing. Up and down. Abba, if only Rajni sir would give him a crash course – then he would be super at Indian English! Simply Super! Anyway, I had to cover up for him. SO, I brought everything onto one line. I made him ten times slower, how my audience will know otherwise? And after one hour, everybody clapped for my hard work. Ah, how nice it felt!       
   
If the noble was funny, the next person – one Astronaut who grew four inches in Space was too good, anna! Abba! Swept me off my feet! I was so enthralled that the people had to spend two whole minutes bringing me up again. Yenna class! Only one drawback he had. He was too tall. That rod was short, like average Indian. So I had to again do some covering up. I became loud. Put all my God given energy to give a masterpiece performance. Again, I was appreciated with loud banging applause. And that kind astronaut, he realised I was tired. SO he bowed on my behalf. Nice foreign manners I say!                                             
            
Finally, to conclude I told the manager I want one bright Indian. What man, no brains left in our people aa, getting all foreigners? So, they arranged for a Bollywood person. Naseeruddin Shah. Again, my class. 24 Carat Gold Class. Smooth and Shining even in Old Age. The crowd loved me this time. They went dizzy shouting and laughing at my sense of humour. And to not disappoint that old man, I gave him a minute or so of stage time too when I went into hibernation so he could do whatever he wanted. But that also he doesn’t know! Kept on waking me up. All these people! They can’t do anything without veterans like me! How humbling!
So, I came back to centrestage. Gave them all what they kept asking for. At the end of the day, that is what an actor should do, what say? Entertain the people. And mind it, I do it well.
  Bollywood Actor Naseeruddin Shah
After three performances packed in one weekend, performing to fully packed people, I felt happy. Like after some polishing with pure coconut oil. I was still loved. Devi, your son has really made you proud. Thanks, Amma!
With this, I went back to my space. Contemplating until another day when I had something to share with the world. I will call someone again. Maybe I have reached a stage where I can demand Rajni Sir, what say!

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