I came across The Storytellers in Youtube very recently. It’s really amazing to notice the fact that a simple story told in an efficient way garnished with the right blend of emotions and voice modulations can grip an audience until the end of the story. The stories were different but all of them had a common element – an element of life, of purity, of feelings…The stories weren’t something totally new, they were told differently, drawn from personal experiences. Anyway I decided to tell one such story.
This event happened some 15-20 years back, a time when the world was not connected with internet and social media to this extend. So during those days, people used to visit their relatives more often than these days. It was a weekend and as usual after lunch and a small nap, we decided to go to my aunt’s house. We includes my dad, mom and my little sister, who was hardly 4 years back then.
So we went by our car – Maruti Zen white, and parked it in the porch which we had to share with my uncle’s old scooter. Ok, my uncle never owned a car but the porch was large enough for a car. He only had an old scooter which he parked right in the middle of the porch. So when our car came in, the oldie had to be shifted aside to give way to our Maruti.
Anyway we all went in and were having this evening gossip and chit chats along with some hot tea and snacks which aunt had prepared. Aunt is a good cook, I must say. Somewhere, during the course of this busy chitchatting, my sister got bored, extremely bored. So she went out to the porch alone.
Now the remaining part of the story is what she told me at a later day.
So she went out to the porch alone. She saw uncle’s old scooter, it was a Bajaj Chetak, you know the old type of scooter that looked something like this.
It had a stepney tyre which had a cover that read the most famous punchline of Bajaj ” You Just Can’t Beat a Bajaj”. I mentioned my sister was extremely bored that day and for some reason she was in a bitter mood. So on seeing the punchline, she took it literally ” Why can’t I beat a bajaj?” ” who is there to stop me?” “What will happen?” and she started beating the bike seat left and right hard exclaiming to herself ” I beat a Bajaj”
After a while, she again got bored of beating the seat and decided to come inside. Then suddenly something dawned on her, ” Why did I beat the bike?” “It is poor uncle’s poor bike. What wrong did it do?” She felt bad for the bike and then she started pacifying the bike seat with her hands. She rubbed her hands over the seat assuming the bike seat would feel relieved of the pain that her beating had caused.
At that moment, she recalled, “You Just Can’t Beat A Bajaj” 🙂