Lobo Lobo pointed to a large sack on my doorstep—he opened it to reveal wads and wads of pink Rs 2,000 notes.
Illustration/Uday Mohite
Lobo Lobo, my cable TV technician, stood outside my door. It was late night. His cheeks were flushed, pink with exertion, his wispy strands of hair were pointed skywards like curly pig tails, his eyes were bulging with lack of sleep, he was panting.
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‘Lobo Lobo hi... uhm. Why do you look so uhm pink.
What’s up?”
“I’ve been out all night, doin’ my night duty, men Dikuna!”
“Care to elucidate.”
“Take Lucy on a date, who’s Lucy men?”
“Uhm not Lucy on a date, I said elucidate… it means explain, would you care to explain, have you become a nightwatchman, why were you out
all night?”
“Arre no Dikuna men… not nightwatchmen, it’s about dese R2,000 notes… dese pink, pink notes! Dey kept me up all night!”
Lobo Lobo pointed to a large sack on my doorstep—he opened it to reveal wads and wads of pink Rs 2,000 notes.
“Jeez, Lobo Lobo what are these?” I asked aghast.
“Arre Dikuna men, wot it looks like? Dese are two tousand rupee notes.”
“Yes Lobo Lobo, I can see what they are! I’m asking why you have such large quantities of them, in this sack, on your person… and what does it have to do with night duty?”
Lobo Lobo went a tad pink faced.
“Dese are all black money.”
“Are you a debt collector?”
‘Chhe no mad o wot!”
“Are you a smuggler?”
“Jes sharrrup!”
“Do you professionally convert white money to black?”
‘Donne joke chhe! Let me tell you... before you keep accusing me… watch this.”
With that Lobo Lobo snapped his fingers, and the unthinkable happened – a flash of lightning went off around Lobo Lobo, accompanied by a loud ‘dishoom’, he went into a spiral, fire emanated from his mouth… he let out a scream as his body went into a writhing spasm. Suddenly, everything went calm, and voila, Lobo Lobo was dressed in a pink skin-hugging catsuit.
“What just happened Lobo Lobo?” I asked, gobsmacked.
Lobo Lobo’s squeaky rusty nail voice went into booming Darth Vader baritone.
“Do not dare refer to me as Lobo Lobo, I am ‘THE ASLI NOTE MAN!” this pink-suited superhero said to me. “Like Clark Kent becomes Superman, and Bruce Banner transforms to the Hulk, I, Thelonious Sacramento Lobo have become the ‘ASLI NOTE MAN’….”
“Wow!”, I exclaimed, ‘How did this happen?”
“I have been nominated by the RBI, the Reserve Bank of India, they have given me these superpowers.”
‘To do what?” I asked aghast.
“Superpowers! So I can jump up in de air, and in the sky! I can fly over rooftops.
Like Spider man has spidey powers, I have been given infrared UV light powers in my eyes. All I have to do is point my fingers in de direction of a building, and with my sharp eyes I can tell how many flats have R2,000 notes, especially the counterfeit ones, my eyes become so sharp, dey can look into your safe, your drawers, your wallet, your cupboard, under your pillow. And I can tell if your notes are real or counterfeited, if the person has ‘asli’ notes or he is ‘chaapoing’ – automatically if that person has over a certain amount of ‘black money’ I can notify the RBI.”
Lobo Lobo snapped his fingers again, and he was back to being my cable TV technician.
“Tell me, Lobo Lobo, why are you the ‘ASLI NOTE MAN’ by night, don’t your powers extend to the day?”
“No men, oni in de night. In fact dey have tolded me all dere plans—dey will keep making new new notes, dey will withdraw dese pink falooda coloured 2000 notes, in six months dey will be introducing a R5,000 note which will be de colour of casatta ice-cream... and in one year, it will a ten tousand note, coloured like tutti frutti. Like dat oni dey will keep introducing and withdrawing notes, ‘kaali peeli’ to irritate us. Chalo men, have to fly, complete my night duty, identify some black money villains bring them to justice. I better rush... I have to finish by dawn otherwise.”
“Otherwise what?”
“I will turn into a pink pumpkin, ciao men!”
Rahul daCunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahul.dacunha@mid-day.com