Rahul da Cunha: Potholes, manholes and Lobo Lobo

"Lobo Lobo, you're looking a little... uhmu00c3u00a2u00c2u0080u00c2u00a6 dishevelled? Uh... what happened exactly?"

So, Lobo Lobo came to my house, armed with six cloth bags, filled with drenched brinjals and beetroots, looking like someone who'd survived a tsunami and the Titanic sinking, simultaneously.

"Lobo Lobo, you're looking a little... uhm… dishevelled? Uh... what happened exactly?"

"What did you say, men, dishevelled, dats like de understatement of de century!"

"Uh… I was trying to uhm… make light of what is clearly a life changing physical experience that you've been through… Mr Lobo, can you explain your plight?"

Thelonious Lobo's inner beast was unleashed.

"See men, I'm solid angry, men. I want to kill someone just now! Grrrrrr… see my Myrtle asked me to buy some poke from Bhandup... we eat poke on weekends."

"Poke, what's poke, Lobo Lobo?"

"Arre men, poke re, poke, pig's meat men. Poke you've not heard? You don't eat poke? You're vegetarian or what, chhe?"

"Ah I get it, pork."

"Dat's wot I said, men. Now don't interrupt pleeze, it spoils my train of tought. So wot I was saying, yes so dis morning, it is raining blinking cats and dogs… I left Virar to go to Bhandup — de best poke you get in Bhandup market. Fust calamity happened on de highway, men. Our bleddy highway is resembling de craters on de moon. Dere is no road anymo, men. So I was trying to handle dis obstacle race, and my Petunia went into a blinking khadda men, one of dose dirty mud filled khaddas in Goregaon!"

"Petunia? I thought your wife's name was Myrtle?"

"Arre Dikuna, Petunia is my Luna scooter. I told you so many times, men, chhe!"

"Sorry Thelonious… please continue."

"So dere I am in de middle of de highway, I am lying in a brown water-filled crater, I tink some truck will run over me..."

"Then what happened?"

"So den I get out of dat mess, and try and hail down one kaali-peeli. None of dem want to take me to Goregaon becoz dey say dat Bhandup has de worse potholes. Finally one old bugger stops his taxi feels pity for me and takes me down de Link road. Dikuna, I tell you, dat road was like de Mandovi river. De Kaali Peeli went 'phat' into an open manhole. So I had to swim back to Jogeshwari, from where I took a BEST bus. De bus den doesn't see an overhead bridge and de bleeding fool driver tinks he'll squeeze trough… of course not! So men, you can understend wot happens! Chhe."

Lobo Lobo paused for breath – for one brief moment the man was at a loss for words as he pondered over how manholes, Mother Nature and Mumbai's many municipal corporations had failed him.

I asked, "So Lobo, how can I make your plight better? Can I give you a hug… one solid 'Jhappi' followed by a wink… should I, Lobo Lobo?"

"Wot men, who do you tink I am, PM Modi? And who are you… I tought your name was Rahul Dikuna… not Rahul Gandhi, men!"

Rahul da Cunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahuldacunha62@gmail.com

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