The Wit And Humor Of Dhamu

My dear Anna

I am so glad to see your three threads in a gap of 15days and entertaining us. Nice to read about Dhamu and t know that he has been your friend since 50 years. Syamala is right in saying that people are different outside and inside the house. My friend's husband is also somewhat like Dhamu. He is also a jovial person but at home he has arguement with his wife. He asks me dont you argue with your husband. First time I met him when we were standing in a Q for admission of my daughter in school. Till the time we were in the Q he entertained with jokes. He also posts in some magazine. At home he is shorttempered and even if someone is there he does not bother.

Dhamu's wife must be either fed up of his jokes or not enjoying his jokes. She does not the value of her husband. Some people dont know the value of their better half , those who are praised outside the house have no value at home. Some are there who cant show their anger at home but outside they show they are great.

 

Hmm, Dhamu had me thinking for some time. He seems to be the social incarnate of Stengel and Goldwyn. Men of such stature are rarely appreciated by the immediate family to the extent they are awed by an audience of devoted men who try miserably to enshrine them as heroic in hilarity. I recently shared this quote of Hans Abendroth with a friend for opinion

The grave of every person who does not die by his own hand should bear the following epitaph: RETURNED TO SENDER. But the suicide’s grave should read: ARRIVED AT DESTINATION.

He retorted : “That is sad and depressing.” I waved, no, no, that is witty not depressing. Then after back and forth altercation, I lost the argument to his doleful timbre. Now empowered by insights into workings of Dhamu, I would probably go back to ensure that such Dhamu-punch in a saying is not lost on people.

Half-mad, raving mad, or stark raving mad, such progression of (wry) madness is proportional to the reception from an audience, and from your clubby vignettes, I can imagine how Dhamu reached the pinnacle of such delusion (oh! according to his wife). Hope Dhamu features regularly in your ‘Triplicane’ blogs equipped with his sambhar-rice aphorisms and may be discourses on procreative feats of cats and dogs.

I had to poke myself hard at this turn of events. How did this enchanted owl get lost in the woods, then took a wrong turn, and knocked at the door of another wizened owl. May be Dhamu can explain such occurrence as: sokanasanah wanted to verify if your numeric skills are fine, last means 1+ last but one.

 

Dear Shri Cheeniya Sir,

Somehow 'yourDhamu escaped my eyes.Today accidentally I happened to listen to Cheeniya's narration about Dhamu.No wonder his wife behaved with such frustration and anger.My cousin sister's husband was of a peculiar character.He was branded as 'saadhu' or asadu or 'avvalavu poraathu' etc etc.He was a brilliant student of St.Joseph's Thiruchi, graduated in in 1940.He was a student when my sister married him in 1939.Though he was B. A. B. L. he never practised Law and he retired as 'Translator' from Madras High Court.Carnatic music was in his blood,a fan of Maharajapuram viswanatha iyer and Musiri he used to do alapana for more than an hour in any ragam.With a simple veshti, he would go to office from Egmore by walk.He won't keep a paisa for himself ,took 4 annas from his wife and spend nothing on most days.Occasionally he would buy groundnuts for 1 Anna.
His behaviour was strange as that of Johnson.He was a voracious reader and procure nice books from the roadside..
He din't know what to talk and what not.He used to cut jokes even when people came for condolence when his 40 year old son passed away.
He straight away walked into my another sister's house when a death ceremony was going with a bag of small onions and small brinjals.He asked my sister's mother-in-law to prepare 'vengaya vathal kuzhambu' and 'pinju kaththarikkaai vathakkal'-he waited until the ceremony was over.The mami prepared those special item.This gentleman ate to his heart's content and came out after giving loads of appreciation.
He came home and narrated everything to his wife.Her anger knew no bounds.She didn't raise a stick.
In 1980 his daughter's marriage was celebrated in a kalyana mandapam in West mambalam in Panguni.When janavasa procession passed thro Ayodhya manadapam , Madurai Sesha Gopalan was performing.He silently entered Ayodhya mandapam and started enjoying music.Nischayadartham was to be performed.Girl's father was missing.I ran to Ayodhya mandapam. I dragged him out.He asked me to sit and enjoy the thodi of Seshagopalan.For a second he forgot that his daughter's marriage
was on.How can his wife not get irritated with him?My sister with my help performed the marriage of all her daughters ,cursing her husband in mind.Can any lady appreciate the innocence, scholarship, voracious reading, all goodness of such 'fit for nothing' husbands with all goodness and no evil at heart?
He lost his vision partially after 90.He didn't allow anyone to remove hundreds of old books he purchased for throw away prices.My sister shouted one day' I am going to arrange the books on your body and use them as firewood when you die".Such was the irritation .
He died at the age of 95. My sister at 92 now regrets that she might have understood him better.Not only his wife, everybody around him always blamed him, but he never took it seriously and never hesitated to narrate even his insults to others.What a nature!

Jayasala 42

 

Posted in the wrong thread. Feel free to delete this dispensable notifier.

 

I don't know if you had this notorious practice in your school of scratching a slapdash remark on a teacher or a front-bench student raptly listening to the lecture and circulate the tease around. Those were days of no networked smart-phones to disseminate viral fun. So we used to write on a scrap and scrunch it up into a ball and pass it around. Mind you, the provenance was obscured by fake handwriting. I used to smudge my handwriting slightly to conceal my identity. In one such incident, the chit found its way to the student I've commented on, thereupon, she straightly handed the bullying note to the teacher and directed her arm at me. The teachers were either lenient or inured of my antics that no punitive action was taken. Whole day I was thinking — how did she figure out that it was me. Later, I inquired how did she find out that it was me. She replied, "Heck, only you write such long words ..."

The travails from wrong address are any day less severe than trails of manipulating a 'no return' address. I learnt that day to conceal not only my long-hand writing but my long-worded writing as well. However, I was caught few times after that. Even today I do that, pass commentary around just that it happens surreptitiously in emails averting disastrous consequences from misdirected envelopes. I am glad that you didn't drag me to an arbiter for reparations over such wrongdoing.