Friday Fun: “Culture Shock V” By Anil Shrivastava ‘Musafir’

Friday Fun: “Culture Shock V” By Anil Shrivastava ‘Musafir’
Jan 19 rich indiansI remember when Chirkut used live in the back seat of his heap, an old Ford Pinto. Those were the days when he wanted to bring peace to the world. Now he lives in Wyndemere Estate. His new neighborhood is one of those high security gated communities. The guard wanted to strip search me before letting me in frowning at my old Chevy.
The party was in full swing in Chirkut’s mansion. Chirkut’s new girlfriend who appeared clueless asked me, “Are you also from maharaja family in India like Chirkut? Do all Indians get born with silver spoons in their mouth?”
Before I could gasp, Chirkut interrupted, “Yes, I was because our gold-plated silverware was being polished at the time.”
“And what do you do? Are you a doctor?” Clueless turned to me.
“No, actually I am an inventor,” I replied in disgust waving my hand over my forehead.
“Wow! What did you invent?
“You see that little hologram of a dove on your credit card? That’s mine.” The clueless stood there with her mouth open. I didn’t want to cause pain in her orbicularis muscles, so I offered her another drink. She started licking on olive like a lollipop.
I wondered how Chirkut managed to live on road less travelled from the road still under construction in such a short time. Chirkut suddenly pressed a button and the curtains automatically opened to a panoramic view of Jacuzzi. “It’s so private that I can stand on my front porch and shoot and nobody will be killed.”
Clearing her throat, Clueless choked on her olive and asked me, “Are all Indians bright and smart like you guys?” she asked me.
“Of course! You can find millions with Chirkut’s IQ back in the old country.”
Suddenly, a middle aged Indian woman walked up to Chirkut covered with gold from head to toe – a walking Fort Knox. Everyone called her aunty.
“Beta (son), it’s so nice to see you still maintaining our Indian culture and exposing our values to these Americans,” aunty hugged Chirkut almost throwing him on the floor.
“How are Chintu and Kuntu? I haven’t seen them since years together. We haven’t even conversed with them on the phone for a very long time,” asked Chirkut.
Chintu is doing engineering. His college is so good that he will be placed at a very big company. He has a potential to earn like you”
“And you know Kuntu got married to this brilliant guy from Silicon Valley. I have a grandson now who just turned four. We have planned a big celebration. Her in-laws gave him a gold chain as a present. They just keep doing this. On his first birthday, they gifted a bike, second birthday a plot of land….blah…blah..blah,” she continued.
“I hope they don’t live long enough to run out of options,” I commented.
Suddenly Nandita walked in with her two year old son. She came directly to aunty and touched her feet lifting aunty’s sari (Indian skirt).
“Oh beti (daughter) Nandita, how are you doing and what is your son going to be when he grows up?”
“He got a seat in the best private school. You know, the tuition alone is 50 thousand dollars per year. The other similar schools were a bit cheaper, but we wanted only the best for our little boy. He’s so special. He’s so intelligent. Come on, son say some rhymes.”
That “so special” boy began to recite “Ba ba, black sheep”, while his adoring mother and aunty react like he won Nobel Prize.
“You are so smart. You should start preparing for spelling bee right away,” aunty complimented.
Glancing one last time over them, soon I made a screeching sound as I wanted to burn rubber down to my modest abode.
Next week I watched on TV that Chirkut was arrested for healthcare fraud writing two million prescriptions for painkiller pills. My curiosity was over.

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