To get it out

“You know, I said ‘to go’ and they just stared back at me…I was thinking what the f*** is wrong with these stupid Indian stall guys…then Rags said I should say ‘parcel’..God, things are way different in America, man!” said Sriram, or SR, as he now called himself, with his initials.

SR has just come down to India after three years in the USA for a two-week long vacation. He’s my cousin, close one at that. And like almost anyone else who’s been to the USA, he was normal before he left. And now I just can’t believe he’s the Sriram who used to take me out everywhere during my school days. Well, he still does, but now all he wants to know if Satyam as a multiplex is decent enough and if we have to trust those indecent auto ‘fellas’ and take ‘cabs’ instead. (What’s decent, I don’t know!)

I stared at him from across the table as he went on and on about NYC. My father and mother were nice enough to pay attention to him and nod their heads at frequent intervals. Appa was damn interested, I knew, and I could almost see Amma struggling hard to keep her fumes within herself.

“Oh Mams, eggplant! It’s your best, and my favourite!!” he said. I looked at the vegetable amma had just served.
Say kathirika, you fool!

“Vini,” he said, turning to me. “You’re coming to the US to do your masters, right? Do an MS there, woman, it’ll be freaking awesome! Much better than the Indian universities!”
“No, I’m fine here,” I said. “Besides I don’t want an MS..” I trailed along. When will he stop and go back to Bangalore to his parents’ place, I couldn’t help thinking. He hadn’t spoken in Tamil at all ever since he came here. Loser, I decided.

After what seemed to be an eternity, we finished dinner. I couldn’t wait to get back into my room. Rude though it seemed, I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how much longer I could stand his ‘Oh man’ kind of English.

“Hey Vini, wait…we have lots to catch up! C’mon, c’mon….”
I cursed my luck and went to sit with him.
“So dating and all, right?” he asked.

I raised my eyebrow and gave him a stare. Frosty nosed stare, as it comes in a class IX English story I’d read in school. He continued, not caring to pause for an answer from me. It was going too far.

“Dei, vaaya moodu da!” I said, mustering all the anger I could. I had never told him da; he used to be nice enough to be called Anna before.
He stared at me open-mouthed.
“Enna pa aachu?” he asked.
I smiled. So much to get a Tamil word from him. :)

P.S.Thank heavens, none of my cousins have gone this crazy yet. No wannabes around. :)