How bad can a little bit of Porn be?

I have a very dear friend who has shifted now to the States. When here he was a perennial source of my mirth and jollity for such was his life that epic blunders and wonders kept following him everywhere yes, kind of a carbon copy of me-I often joked that we are like twins separated by wombs. It is sad that he does not blog for his narration is exceptional and engrossing. Here is one of the leaves from his life that forms a memorable anecdote for me to always tease him with.

He (let’s call him Bhola, for this would get to his nerves for sure) was pursuing his further studies outside his quaint, little city and once was home during long vacations. His very small town had meagre sources of entertainment and his friends too had moved on to other parts of the country in search of greener pastures. So he decided to stack some actually a huge amount of porn in between his notes and bring along just in case the forlorn nights made him too lonely and the lovely simple damsels around got him too horny.

Now stashing them in the remote corners of his cupboard in the room, he went out one day to check on the developments in the city happening behind his back which basically means to check out the chicks for he cared a flying fig about the infrastructure-female structure is where his eyes stop for good. Little did he know his mommy dearest had decided to give him a surprise by introducing his chaotic room to some order. He returned home whistling in the evening struck by the smell of something alien-ish in the air. *Sniff, sniff* OHH MYY GOOD GAAAWD! Who the fuck unmessed the mess?

And immediately his popping out eyes went to the closed doors of the cupboard. In slow motion you can imagine him running now towards it with his head moving from side to side as sweat particles splattered around from the panic socked expressions of his countenance actually imagine a constipation stricken tensing of facial nerves here instead for a better understanding of the situation.

Gasping for breath, he flung open the doors in one jerky action and then picture the three times made close-up of his face with thrum-thrum-thrum imaginary backdrop thumping of the drum as happens in stupid Hindi serials. The underwear were washed, the posters of half naked women stuck on the insides were removed and worst-the notebooks were arranged in neat layers and despite moving the pages of all, there was not one CD falling out of any of them.

His first thought:

OMG-I paid half my month’s pocket money on them!

OMG-Some of them had the latest lesbian action!

OMG-How will I spend the rest of the fifteen nights here at home without them?

OMG-(never mind, too many FIRST thoughts there)

OMG-Mom!!!!????????!!!

He darted back to his mother like I do when I go to receive a phone call and end up chit chatting forgetting about milk kept on the stove for boiling not realizing that he had not thought over in his mind about what and how was he going to ask his sari clad, bindi adorning, haath mein puja ki thaali liye hue mom about it. He first took the thali from her hand lest it fell to the ground in the dramatic way shown in the movies, scattering the puja ka sindoor everywhere and extinguishing the diya because the “ghar ka chiraag” is too busy in such “mooh-kaala” activities.

He- Ma, er...did you find anything in my cupboard?

(Forget the “thank-you for cleaning my earthquake stricken zone” –ungrateful kids of this generation, I tell you)

Ma- You mean this? *And she took out the bundle of CDs from god knows where, arranged between her fingers like a neat stack of playing cards with just the right amount of cleavage popping out from each cover*

He- Ma...er...aaaa...mmmm?

Ma-So these are the sounds that I would get from you now? Quite expected! 
He- Maaaaa???? *Raising the tone in disbelief as though she’s the one doing the blasphemy here*

Ma- Yeh kya hain? *Now bringing in view a clothes-free Pamela Anderson look alike in terms of you-know-what for nobody cares two hoots about what is over them*

He- (thinking in his mind- These are the latest inventions of positions and intersections without conception but made for interjections) CDs hain ma...

Ma- I can see that...but what are they doing in your cupboard?

He- (thinking again- They should be "doing it" in the laptop and damn I should have used the laptop cover to stack them there instead) Ma, yeh notes hain!

Ma- Jhoot bol rahe ho ab?

He- Na ma na...These are Suraj’s CDs. I told him to send me the biology practicals ke CDs and by mistake he must have sent me these. I kept them away so that I could go back and return these for the originals *feeling super smug at his presence of mind*

Ma- Chee...beta, mein tumhare ma hoon!

He- Mujhe pata hain ma, meine kab DNA test maanga?

Ma- To yeh sab kar rahe ho Bombaye jaake?

He-  (Karne ka mauka he kahan mila-yeh to practise sessions hain) Ma, aap galat samajh rahe ho....

Ma- To dikha do kya hain is mein-theek se samajh lete hoon?

He- *Now raising an eyebrow at his ma’s intention in tension* Acha ab de do....aage se nahi karonga  (Me-Huh, matlab self service ki dukaan band aaj se?) and papa ko nahi bataana....

Ma- Ofcourse nahi bataana...woh TUMHAARE papa hain! Aur inko bhool jao...

She stomped off now leaving Bhola with the puja ki thaali and almost a KLPD!

And my teasing began at where she left him-

So mast na? Haaaw Bhola, imagine what and how she would have viewed you post this traumatic experience-

~Beta, bahut kamzoor ho gaya hain! (He must be overdoing THAT-I must ask Bhola ke papa to speak to him about IT)

~Itne garmi mein shorts ke jagah pajama pehna hain? (He must have just watched a CD and come...arre woh waala come nahi-Ram, Ram)

~Why is he taking so long in the bathroom? Why has he locked his room from inside? (Let me put my ears to the door to hear some moaning)

~Why is he moaning? (No he can’t have possibly slipped on the soap water left in his washroom-it has to be those karam jali kudiyan)

~Why is he refusing to get married? (Oh god, he’s having an affair with one of “those” girls...)

~Why is he insisting on twice cleaning of his room? (I must ask Shaarda bai to stop sending her daughter for cleaning and she should come instead-is ladke ka to kuch pata nahi)

Tch, tch...needless to say he never got the CDs back and whenever he grieved about them, I told him to chill, probably his mom and dad, alone in that drab town are having fun now thanks to him-aaj tak unhone sab sikhaya, kuch aap bhi unke knowledge expansion mein assistance karo! Or be positive, maybe someday when he gets married, his mom instead of handing the house keys on the first night to his bride would make her cup those CDs and say “Aaj se yeh tumhare haath mein hain-uske haath mein mat dena...” And stop looking for innuendos I am sure the poor mother won’t mean THAT what you are thinking!

And so poor Bhola, he never knew porn could land him in the Neverland-the land where he would never be seen without doubtful eyes by his ma or without mad leg pull by me!