At the risk of sounding like a hand-wringing wuss, I pity the well-meaning old Bangalorean who is foolhardy enough to offer advice to a civic offender.
Forget it, you run the risk of being verbally and physically abused or summarily ignored. We all think we know better, even when we don't, but brave souls who can lecture boors are few and far between. One possible solution is dialogue from “Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions” from Mad Magazine, one of the more benign addictions of my younger days. As the Canta editor Sebastian Boyle profoundly observed, “For me, good satire is sunlight against darkness. It's a motivator. It's an effective way of highlighting our shortcomings and lesser behaviours. It's actually less antagonistic - and less futile - than getting into direct debates.”
I offer a few scenarios which may be of help, dear reader, should you feel the civic urge.
Scenario: Snooty woman, Prada handbag and Gucci sunglasses with Pomeranian dog on leash who has just taken a dump on your doorstep (the dog, I mean, not the woman).
Action: Sweep up the doggie do in a designer plastic bag and run after her panting, ‘Excuse me madam, I think you just dropped something.’
Scenario: Well-dressed guy peeing on your compound wall.
Action: Run up to him and breathlessly announce, ‘Aiyyo saar, this wall is electrified. Now we are having power cut so it is okay but supply will come back any minute, then what will happen? Just I am giving friendly warning.’
Result: Kidney failure or severe shock to central nervous system. Painting a lightning flash/ skull and crossbones logo on the wall will add credibility to the narrative.
Scenario: Creep in a red Honda City who swerves ahead of you, cuts you off and parks in the only remaining slot with a satisfied smirk.
Action: One must make allowances for the mentally deficient but justice will be served if you tip a loitering urchin to deflate the offender’s tyres.
Scenario: Strap hanger with Elvis style pelvic thrust, invading your personal space by using the rocking motion of the 9AM metro to Malleswaram metro to give you his very own version of ‘Locomotive (Bad) Breath.’ Carry concealed Whoopee cushion in bag and remember timing is important: at the appropriate moment press button, then turn round and glare at Locomotive Lothario. By now the whole compartment will be giggling at him; you can pick this moment to sweep majestically forward to a less crowded spot.
Scenario: Queue jumper at movie theatre. Drop wallet on floor and loudly accuse him of pick-pocketing. When he protests his innocence, scream loudly, ‘But I saw you two minutes ago in the back of the queue, how did you reach here, cut-purse?’ Who knows, he might even get manhandled by a few over-enthusiastic bystanders.
Honda City hero who has come to pick up his girlfriend but is way too busy on his i-phone to get out and ring her doorbell; that doesn’t stop him from continuously blowing his musical horn tune with A.R. Rahman’s worst ever song, “Lingaaaaaaaaa”, in rhythmic sequence.
Action: Creep up silently behind his car, wait for the psychological moment when he is rearranging his hair in the mirror, then grip his ear firmly and say, ‘We have a sleeping baby at home and if he wakes up, you will put him back to sleep, you miserable little creep.” He may recognize you from the parking lot and get out and punch you in the nose, but what the hell, you've had your say and made your point and that's what life is all about, isn't it?
Even if you only fantasize about doing stuff like this, to paraphrase Pink Floyd, it takes away the moments that make up a dull day and helps you fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way. When you go to bed at night, you can bask in the satisfaction of a job well done as a patriotic Indian.
Because while other nations fret about Brexit, building walls, beheading journalists and finding hotter kimchi to put in their nuclear reactors a la Kim Jong-un, we have our priorities clear. We are a nation of theoreticians who excel in advising others what to do and how they should do it, especially when they haven’t asked for it.
