Yemandi!May 10, 2008
I have currently been posted on audit at this incredible place called Andhra Club (ASCA, officially). Incredible because, the moment you ste...
I have currently been posted on audit at this incredible place called Andhra Club (ASCA, officially). Incredible because, the moment you step in there, its like you've jumped across a few 1000 miles and stepped into Andhra Pradesh. The rapid telugu, the smell of biriyani, the "muhaha-you-are-tamil" looks and of course, their major obsession with bling-bling.
My colleague (he had already been in this audit twice) had warned about the finance department though. Apparently they were not too helpful and had a rather incomprehensible sense of humour. Incomprehensible he said, because they'd keep talking in telugu (which he had no knowledge of) and laugh.
A day or two into the audit later, our team had gone to the finance department to get a few queries clarified. As we were talking, an attender came with packets of buttermilk and offered it to us, which we declined. It was 11 am and we weren't thirsty. When the finance manager saw us declining, he started in Telugu again.
Here's an interesting fact, I know Telugu. Whenever there's nothing good going on in the channels I usually watch, I see Gemini TV. 3 or 4 colourful '80s Telugu movies later, I could understand the language pretty well. And my father spoke good telugu so we would conversate in that language to piss my mother off.
Anyhow, the manager started talking about how we declined buttermilk because that and curd rice was what we always eat at home anyway and on cue, everyone there smirked. My colleagues didn't have a clue obviously, they just went about their work.
When we came back to the auditor's room, my feeling was more of amusement than irritation. Ignorance is a funny thing. My colleagues were ignorant of telugu and our extremely witty manager was ignorant of the fact that one particular thayir saadham case had a rather large molaga hidden inside.
10 minutes later, my senior sent me to the department again to get some A4 sheets. As I went in, smirks went round again. I walked up to the manager.
"Sir, Naaku A4 sheet kaawali"
(sir, I want A4 sheets)
"Manager gaaru, Naaku baaga telsu"
(Manager sir, i know Telugu very well)
"Oh...ok..sari madam...a4 sheet akkada undhi, teeskundi teeskundi"
(Oh...ok..yes madam, a4 sheets are over there, please take)
And thus, my day was made. Although I wish Andhra Club had surveillance cameras. I would have made a lot of money selling a picture his incredibly deranged mug as a novelty item on eBay.
Andhra Pradesh is known for its extra-spiciness. Its contagious, I tell you. Maybe I should change my name to Gongkura chutney.
On a different note, the staff there now talk to me in telugu which is screwed up considering my speaking skills are half baked while I had peethifyed about my telugu prowess as though I'm NTR's onnu vitta chittapa ponnu. As they say in that gulti-land - Emi Baadha sir iddi.