An African's Tale of Bloopers

                   This post is about someone I know for about 6 years now. In fact, I first met him in my physics tuition class in the 11th grade. The guy spoke in a funny accent. Later I came to know that he was in Botswana (a country in the southern part of Africa) all these years and had just returned back, and hence his funny accent. (For namesake, let’s call him Botsu). Two years thence, by a quirk of fate, we both were in the same batch for engineering. Nice guy, good hearted, generous, magnanimous – these were my first impressions of him. Gradually I came to realize that these were all my delusions. Botsu – the man, the machine, who thinks all the girls on earth are gravitated towards him because of his macho physique and oodles of raw appeal (ya, ya, a muscular body sans spine). I suppose his muscles are due to the routine swimming in the marshy swamps in the tropical rain forests of Africa and I seriously believe he’s been kicked out of Africa as a result of being a perpetual nuisance to the teenage girls out there.

Scenario:

[It was the 5th semester in engineering. Our whole batch went for an Industrial Visit in Goa.]

Scene 1:

            Most of the batch had gone to visit Power Grid, and the rest of us bunked that and stayed in the hotel. The main purpose was to jump into the swimming pool in the middle of the building, and yes we did do that. In fact, Botsu was the happiest as it was a chance for him to show off his superior swimming prowess. But alas, the girls were all gone to Power Grid, and after some unenthusiastic swimming sessions, Botsu went back to his room. It was late evening when the girls came and we had just moved out of the pool. When I reached back in room, Botsu was there gluing his eyes on the bikini clad Baywatch girls on TV.

Me: Hey, seems the girls came back.

A shocked Botsu: You bloody crook!! Why didn’t you come and call me, you moron?

Before I could reply anything, the dude took a towel, ran off to the pool stripping his clothes, and dived into the pool. Splash!! But, the tired girls standing by the side of the pool doesn’t seem to be interested. What followed was a series of performances that would make even Olympic medalists awed. Butterfly stroke, back stroke, breast stroke. Straight dive, puck dive, tuck dive. You name it, he’s done it. But alas, only an American grandma is watching him so far. A disappointed Botsu returns back to the room.

Scene 2:

            Our room is shared by Sudeep, Varun, Botsu, and I. At night Botsu, Sudeep and I went to the pub. Botsu is a teetotaler as well as a non smoker and hence, as Sudeep and I ordered Vodka, Botsu in a mellow voice, “One full bottle of Pepsi please”. A little while later Botsu starts saying stuffs such as as Einstein was a womanizer and other crap like that. I confirmed that he wasn’t having Vodka. Meanwhile Sudeep kept on consuming alcohol till he was completely intoxicated. A sober Botsu directed both of us into the hotel room. Varun was fast asleep by then. It was about 2.am by the time we went to sleep.
                 
           The next morning Botsu gets up, takes his tooth brush, opens the bathroom door. Botsu is petrified. The tooth brush fell from his hands. Sudeep is lying flat on the floor drenched in blood coloured vomit. A frenzied Botsu came running trying to wake up me and Varun, but none of us responded; I mumbled something and went to sleep. Now, Botsu honestly thinks Sudeep is dead; he went back to the bathroom and stood there. Scenarios, Alternate scenarios, Counter scenarios. “Police, inspection, handcuffs, court, prison” - Things started flashing in his mind. “Run, hide, escape”- more flashes. That’s when Sudeep mumbled something. (Sudeep puked in the bathroom after we went to sleep and the vomit was reddish due to all the chilly chicken he consumed for dinner). Botsu slowly sprinkled some water on his face, made sure he’s alive, and then lashed out a plethora of pure African swear words that clamored all over the hotel.

           I can keep telling Botsu’s stories relentlessly forever and ever. But I think I did better stop now, you know, he will crush me with his rippling muscles when he sees this post. But I’m willing to take the risk. The tour is over now. But the “dead” Sudeep’s corpse will haunt Botsu for an eternity.