Purja & Co.

By - The Corner

“Our little friend, as all my contemporaries know, was lovingly called ‘Purja’ by his mother. She genuinely felt that her darling son was a ‘chalta phirta purja’; a walking talking nut case, literally. Our friend hated this nick- name but couldn’t do much about it. Although, he had many lofty names in his make believe world, he stayed Purja in the world we knew. His entourage included Sesa, his elder sister, bossy, but quite in awe of her brother’s capability of making impossible happen or at least a drama happen. Then there was Gira, just a notch less crazy than Purja, a cousin about a year elder to him and the second famous umbi-jumper. She was an artist and a dreamer by nature, very observant, a quality truly desirable in an adventurer always ready to conjure up a unique situation. A cousin about two years younger to Purja was the cute Goltu. With a head full of curly hair tied in small pigtails framing her round face, large round eyes and a rose bud mouth, she was innocence incarnate. Goltu was a one person pacifying team- sent as an emissary of peace in troubled times to subdue the angry enemy lines. There was a flip side though- she would spill beans at slightest cajoling, making the case of enemy party stronger. Youngest of the pack was Pints, two years younger to Goltu, who was so innocent that he was unaware of being part of our friend’s gang. He was taught to nod his head in affirmation to every question, by Purja the genius. This was a necessary defense mechanism, a back up to beat all back ups if the situation became too sticky. Toothless, bald, wide- eyed Pints with a nodding head was irresistible. Since Pints spoke gibberish only, he was more effective than Goltu, and was used only when every other measure, failed. Then of course, there was Gassy, the eldest cousin who was in a hostel but came home for vacations. His ideas were like a flint to fire. Their other cousins also came to stay with them during festivals and holidays, making the group swell to about ten rampaging individuals.

These were the good old times of large joint families in rambling old mansions with large open grounds surrounding them. One was never lonely or away from trouble. In fact there was always strength in number, be it mother inc. or the household staff or the notorious younger lot. The collective input of this young free- floating intelligence always needed careful monitoring hence a tight vigilance structure was incorporated by the mothers inc. in cahoots with the household staff who functioned as their eyes, ears and noses. I will let you all hear what the tin has to say. I am sure, it would only corroborate my narrative.” Saying thus, the corner looked at the new members. It was sure the stories would have an extra edge now that everyone knew more about Purja & co.

“Wow! Purja, what an unusual name but totally, apt in my view. Purja, Sesa, Gira, Goltu, Pints and Gassy, the gang had to be interesting with such funny names.” Observed the ipod rolling the names on its tongue. Sounded great, he felt.

The tin rolled in again. It started narrating the incidence when it was robbed in broad daylight, in his trademark hollow resonating voice.