I would like to meet an RJ one day. I want to ask what makes them so happy.

On my way to work, I am bleary-eyed, and grumpy, slumped in the back-seat of my car, with no visible signs of life. So much so, that often the security guards at my office gate frequently book my driver for trying to smuggle a corpse. But, at that point, I open my eyes slowly and crawl out like a bear after a miscalculated hibernation.

At my brightest, my eyes are open, in 2 small beady slits, as I stare remorselessly at beggars making faces at me from the window.

However, at this hour, RJs are bright, chirpy and belting out ‘good mornings’ in various shrilly tones. I don’t get it. They must be on some kind of intravenous caffeine or something. Which brings me to my next hypothesis – caffeine results in horrendous pronunciations and terrible grammar.

Coming to DJs, I thought they were unhygienic, pot-smoking aliens till I attended DJ Whosane night at Club Titos in Goa couple of months back. He was clever, creative, and funny and went with the tempo of the crowd! It was fun!

Alok and I were in Goa in May this year. JLT. And we decided to party at Baga’s. We dressed in our most flamboyant Goa party clothes – which is stone grey t-shirt and stone grey shorts for Alok (embellished fashionably with a stone grey belt and stone grey party sandals).

To make up for that, I had to take out my best and brightest clothes, so I settled for a mango-colored top with bead trimmings, which, now, I use as a lampshade cover.

So, there we were, stone and lampshade, all set to break a leg.

As we were settling, a photographer from the TOI clicked a snap and said it would be on Page 3 of the Goa Times. For that he needed our names and where we were from.

I said ‘Bangalore’ and Alok said ‘Uttar Pradesh’, simultaneously.

‘Uttar Pradesh?’
I looked at him incredulously.

What kind of answer is that? That too, at a Goa club? Might as well give the Zila name, and gram panchayat code too?! I was livid, my lampshade beads clanging excitedly, as if on caffeine, as I berated him.

Anyways, our picture did get published on Page 3. I was looking for the caption that said ‘Uttar Pradesh Does The Cha Cha’ but it was not there.

The dancing began. I happened to notice a guy dancing on the steps, pretty much alone. He looked exactly like my dhobi from Allahabad, Ramesh.

He danced with amazing energy – but all I could picture was Ramesh at the dhobi ghat. In fact, since I was so transfixed, even the lyrics seemed to transform as I watched him –

‘Bahuji…maine yeh kapda nahin phaada……..nahin ……nahin (zap zap zap ) nahin ……nahin phada…….coz you’re my desi girl my desi girl….’

Before I could recover, as if the DJ read my mind: he played a remix of radio jingle ‘Washing Powder Nirma’!

I am not making this up.

Goa pic