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UBC Day 8: Chunnu’s adventure in Mumbai (3)


This post is written as part of Ultimate Blog Challenge Day 8 and for Blog Chatter, ‘Chunnu’s adventure in Mumbai (3). Hope you folks are liking the adventure.

Chunnu’s adventure in Mumbai (3)

Chunnu was bored watching comic strip on TV. Chunnu was bored of school. Chunnu was bored of studies. Chunnu was bored of parents. He dreamed of being a superhero like his friend. How he wished he was superman! He wanted to make the TV disappear since Aastha channel was playing at home for the whole day at home and troubled his mind. He cannot watch his favourite comic strips. It was Navratri festival in Mumbai.

Chunnu started to drink Bournvita to instantly leap into a strong and powerful like his superhero friend who saves everyone in Mumbai during the floods and attack the evil men. He wanted to become the superhero who can fly and jump over towering buildings. He is a tall and lanky man, growing long hair like this film superstar. Chunnu is his only friend.

Chunnu was excited and sad about Mr Super Hero. He was dying to boast about superhero to everyone in school and at home but the latter made his promise that he shouldn’t tell anyone about it. Or else, superhero will not give him the secrets of fighting the school bullies.

Chunnu was kicking himself and wanted to become like his friend who has all the power of the world, something that happens only in children fantasy films. Superhero told him that he will share his super power with him one day. One day!!!! Chunnu lamented, “When that one day will ever come?”

The whole city was singing the praise of Mother Durga where plays are rehearsed on the busy streets and inside the huge pandals erected. The crowd was jeering to film songs and doing the monkey dance on the busy streets. The whole of Mumbai suddenly became electrified with men, women, and children decked in traditional clothes and doing the garba, expertly dancing with sticks to film songs till the middle of the night.

It’s was an electrifying ambiance with puja and arati of Goddess Durga performed with drum beats that would explode Chunnu’s ears anytime. There are huge statues of the Goddess splayed all over and people dancing merrily to the musical beats where the teeming crowd watched the Rajasthani puppet shows.

The colourful blue Kurta Pyjama worn by Chunnu was not helping him as  Mom clutched his hand with all the forces of the world so that he wouldn’t run away to disappear into the swarming crowd growing by the second. Papa’s eyes didn’t leave him for a second. Chunnu wore a jaded look and wanted to break free from Mom and Dad.


A smile suddenly appeared on his face and his heart is struck like the shimmering light when he saw his girlfriend accompanied by her parents hopping at the venue. The time is NOW Chunnu, he told himself. He makes a calculated move.

Vaidehi ran towards him and chirped, ‘Chunnu! I am bored. Let’s run away from here.’ He was anxious and his gaze furtively scanned his parents’ move, “How can we? Look at my tormentors who forcefully took me here.” “Just follow me,” she gently held his hand. After playing the waiting games and surveying their parents’ move gyrating to Garba, Chunnu and Vaidehi wriggled out their way out by hiding behind the swarming crowd.

A small crowd has gathered in front of a tent and a neta (politician) was delivering a speech to sway voters his way for the local council election.  They hid behind the dhoti-clad man who was making promises to the people of solving water and potholes problems, lightning the colony and giving livelihood to every single young person.

A tube light moment suddenly traversed Chunnu’s innocent but playful mind. He whispered something into Vaidehi’s ears and exuded his naughtiest smile. She turned around, “What if we get caught? Chunnu said with an air of confidence, “We will not. The politicians always fool the people. Let’s teach him a lesson.”

They crawled behind the neta and Chunnu silently moved behind to pull his dhoti down. The politician was oblivious that he was half naked and his pant down. He kept talking.  The whole crowd started to laugh and like a dog, Chunnu walked on his knees to put a song in the recorder, “Dhol Baje.” It started playing at a loud volume. The crowd’s laughter started growing and pointed towards the neta who took a while to realize that the crowd, his voters, poked fun at him. He was left red-faced and pulled his dhoti just in time. He sweated and furiously asked, “Who did that?” He was going to take his revenge for this humiliation. Chunnu hastily decked his tiny finger in a box that contained a stack of CDs and inserted one into the old VCD that played for the crowd in loud volume.





Work-in-progress, seeker and bundle of contradictions. Stubborn and Refusal to grow up and constantly in search of myself, I blurt it out on my space. Drop in and share some love. Indian by choice.

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