BILLBOARDWALLAHS

BILLBOARDWALLAHS

As the lovely evening breeze swept over me with the faint yet ethereal smell of the soil (which now we know has a fancy name – ‘PETRICHOR’) I turned my gaze upwards to look at the skies but lo- behold there was no blue or black with hints of pink and orange no nothing. My gaze upwards but caught a huge cut out of a 16 something wearing a bright red shirt on fluorescent yellow pants; off course torn in streaks on both thighs and the omnipresent black glares with diamonds on the sides.

To call this cutout huge would be an understatement it was a.k.a ‘Rajnikanth’s cutout outside a Bangalore theatre’ kinda huge. As I was just about to wonder aisa isna kya ukhada hai, the kind billboardwallahs had an elaborate explanation too written in a fancy font in crude Marathi (I think the rains were actually the Peshwas crying after reading such version of Marathi). So the explanation was how our chikna cutout had cleared his tenth boards in flying colors getting a humongous score of hold your breath- 45%! The explanation was complete with his entire mark sheet and about four dozen names of people congratulating him. I was mesmerized and all I could do was clap for his feat in wonder.

As I shifted my gaze still hopeful in search of blue with hints of pink, orange and black lo-behold there it was another billboard, no cutout though (disheartening). This one had a five year old’s picture on it with off course the torn jeans, the fluorescent colors, the cool jacket and the diamond studded glares. As I wondered if he was celebrated as some child genius the kind billboardwallah people had an elaborate explanation for us lesser mortals. It was the little ones fifth birthday; he had managed to grow up and complete a full five years! Oh my, if only the stick thin skeleton babies been held by their skeleton mothers residing beneath that billboard could also complete five years! It was so touching of our billboardwallahs to think of giving them inspiration.

 In my now disheartening quest of searching for a piece of sky, I realized I was standing in a chowk with at least eight such billboards (I won’t say anything regarding the ones having actual images of local leaders and politicians which wished them election victories and birthdays and’ good potty today’ days; no way am I saying anything on that as my core belief is Politicians = God no no Politician> God).

So coming back to our celebrated billboard heroes, the five year old and his birthday, the sixteen year old with his amazing score, the twenty-one year old announcing he is all set to marry now (if you don’t believe me do visit PCMC ,especially Bhosri). Looking at all of them I didn’t feel any anger that they have taken up my view of the sky, all I felt is pity for these young boys. Won’t their friends make fun of them, wouldn’t it be embarrassing walking down the street and looking at huge cutouts of yourself, how would they ever get girlfriends, how could their parents make them suffer through these billboards!

But then off course they are the prodigal sons who will run the family businesses (no reference to patriarchal politics, nor to boot-legging, nor to dance bars or deshi daru addas no no absolutely not) and then off course why would they need girlfriends, when girls would be specifically bred and bought up to be married to them.  You know the pretty, really old 16 year ones the lucky ones who only have to cook for them and wash their dirty underwear and you know just open their legs and blouses several times a day because stupid things like marital rape are not worth making laws on, come on!  These girls just have to breed another five six children till the next generation of prodigal sons shoot out of them ready to take their coveted spots on the magnificent billboards. Oh this billboardwallahs they do so much for us sniff sniff…

-          BY SNEHA KARLE