Column

Now I know how Ratan Tata feels every time he hears the word Mamata. Now I know why he jumps and flees the scene with dread in his heart. Now I know how a simple word, just two small syllabus can cause such insurmountable terror.

Scientists in eastern Timor, (who were buried alive four minutes after publishing this fact) call this fear of a single word: The ‘Singurization’ effect.

Yes each of us at one time or another has had to undergo the trauma of the ‘Singur effect’.

Let’s take a look at some well known personalities and words that have ‘Singured’ them senseless.

For Prez Zardari, the word is ‘Honesty’. For Michael Jackson it’s the word ‘Nose’. For Pamela Anderson it’s er… ‘Chest’. For Cher, it’s ‘Nose’, ‘Chest’, ‘Toes’ etc etc.

For me it’s the word Maya. Maya is an extremely terrifying word primarily because Maya is an extremely terrifying presence that lives in our house. Although this word is only eighteen months old, it would be far safer to live with a grizzly bear.

Unscientific and untrained minds think eighteen month old girls pose no danger to the society but this is as true as the rumour that Ram Gopal Verma is going to remake Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham!

Maya begins her morning by climbing on my chest while I’m in deep sleep and then proceeds to give out a blood curdling war yelp, last heard of by the rampaging Sioux Indians at the battle of The Little Big Horn.

Moments later, as I try to gather my thoughts at the wash basin, the eighteen-month-old finger nails rip into my tender un-athletic calves. The pain, let me tell you, is similar to what a Bollywood hero has to go through at the time of hair weaving.

Then it’s time for Maya to adopt some cunning methods. Maya now will revert to the all the four position which ensures that she trips and falls and others rush to the scene. She then breaks into a cry which would put Kishori Amonkar to shame.

To avoid looking like the villain, I pick her up and pat and placate her still even while I am reeling under the brutality meted out to my ear. This is when Maya raises the Olympic standard. This is where she pushes the envelope, raises the bar and decides to let loose some excess bodily liquids and drenches me. Twenty five minutes of Maya and I have a torn ear, shattered back, a bleeding leg and a shamed torso.

Welcome to the ‘Singurisation effect.’