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Penguin Books Ltd - Pankaj Dubey

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130 pages

English

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Pandey Anil Kumar Sinha (PAKS) comes to Delhi with precisely three things: One, his jaded old trunk full of sattu and achaar; Two, a borrowed dream of becoming an IAS officer from his clerk father; and three, to sleep with a milky white Punjabi girl. However, PAKS s goals begin to change when he falls in love, enrols for English classes and finds cool friends. Then suddenly he is pushed to the forefront of college elections and he becomes a hero! PAKS is living his ultimate dream or is he? What will happen next? Will he ever get what he really wants? Find out in this laughathon full of clich s straight from the cow belt of India!

Informations

Publié par	Penguin Books Ltd
Date de parution	15 décembre 2013
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9789351185840
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0400€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Pankaj Dubey

WHAT A LOSER!
Contents
About the Author
Praise for What a Loser!
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Follow Penguin
Copyright Page
PENGUIN METRO READS
WHAT A LOSER!
Once upon a time in a sleepy town called Chaibasa, in Jharkhand, there was a boy very, very unhappy with his name-Pankaj Dubey. It seemed like his parents had named him only out of a sense of duty without giving it any proper thought. However, unlike his ordinary name, he wanted to do extraordinary things! He once gifted a basket of lemons bought from Mangla Haat to his first girlfriend s mother to impress her. The mother made achaar out of it but her daughter changed her vichaar about him. Hence, he went through the most lemony break-up! He spent most of his growing up years aping break dance steps of Mithun in Disco Dancer . Because he spent so much time with his hero, Aryabhatta ji blessed him with a zero in his maths paper.
Pankaj Dubey travelled to Delhi and Europe for his higher studies. Between living in a dingy flat in Mukherjee Nagar, New Delhi, with four IAS aspirants and becoming a paying guest of a toilet cleaner in Coventry, England, he thinks he has seen it all. He once forgot to switch off his mobile phone as a broadcaster with the BBC World Service, Hindi, in London. To his distinction is the contribution of making all serious listeners of BBC News hear the popular tune of the movie Saathiya : Saathiya, madhdhim madhdhim si hai teri hansi .
While in college, he filled the North Campus of Delhi University with laughter. Pankaj was awarded the Navodit Lekhak Award by the Hindi Academy (Government of Delhi) for penning down creative ways to waste time during one s college life in the campus in his story called Mukhauta . His humour expedition continued in the Coventry University in West Midlands, England where he did his master s in applied communications.
A babe-sitter by passion and babysitter by compulsion, he is presently based in Mumbai and experimenting with screenwriting in the Indian film industry. This book is also a part of such explorations.
PRAISE FOR WHAT A LOSER!
My formative years in the North Campus of Delhi University have always been very close to my heart. What a Loser! takes me back to my college days and many relatable characters. The cobweb in which most of the IAS aspirants like PAKS is stuck is penned down quite interestingly. Hilarious to the hilt that leaves a chill in the bone. Must read.
-Manoj Bajpayee (Actor)
It s quite interesting to find something written in such a unique way about that space of our country called the cow belt. I fully agree with the author s take that cow belt is much more than a part of geography. It travels with us in our hearts and minds.
-Sudhir Mishra (Film Director and Screenwriter)
What a humorous slice of life this novel is! The characters and their undercurrent remind me of our teenage days of coming from a small town to a big city with our set of notions surrounding identity. I think it s important to lose some games to win the big ones. Would love to see this loser on the big screen.
-Sanjay Suri (Actor)
This novel is not just humorous. It brilliantly delves deep into the zone of satire. I being from one of the cow belt states, and then joining the North Campus of Delhi University, could identify with a lot of characters and situations of the novel. It would appeal to all readers from small-town India who come to the metros with a fire in their belly to make it big in life.
-Raj Kumar Gupta (Director and Writer)
Prologue
It was the 90s. India was like an adolescent dealing with globalization. MBAs were cropping up and new organizations were mushrooming.
But away from all these changes was a happy island right at the heart of India. This was also what was called the cow belt which spanned low-performing BIMARU states. Things were different here. The cow belt boys could never imagine becoming cow boys !
For them it was still just three jobs to aspire for-DM, CM or PM!
These cow belt boys couldn t shake off their cultural geography even when they moved miles away geographically. And 440, Mukherjee Nagar, New Delhi was an address which embraced these boys dreaming of UPSC with open arms.
Among the denizens of this address was a boy who dared to think out of the box. He aspired to be a cool global citizen. He wanted to break the shackles of stereotypes and had big dreams and aspirations. He wanted not just to be the bigger but the biggest. First among equals!
These were those days of the 90s when mobile phones cost as much as handy cams. Students depended on monthly drafts and bank transfers were unheard of.
And how have things changed now! Call rates today are cheaper than condoms and burgers have made chholey bhaturey pass .
But there are a few things which never change: The aspiration for power and to be powerful! The aspiration to crave for what you don t have!
Let s go on a journey of a Loser in the times when romance was what it was in Sooraj Barjatya s films, when DTC buses and bus stops were date destinations and calling up your beloved from phone booths a priority.
1
Your mum is getting screwed in one room, sister in another. There is a third room from where you can hear moans. That s your wife getting screwed by a guy. You can save just one of them. Who would you save? Your time starts now!
This was the first question thrown at PAKS, as he entered the first floor of the famous flat, 440, Mukherjee Nagar.
It may be called ragging but for PAKS this was rape. Rather gang rape. PAKS appeared like a scared white sheep whose fur was soon going to be shorn for knitting sweaters by this half boys-half men breed. His flesh was ready to be boiled as stew.
Every fresher goes through the sheep phase after joining the North Campus of Delhi University. And PAKS was no exception. He was very nervous. Two drops of sweat trickled down his nose onto his upper lip just like polio drops. Subodh Singh said mockingly, Guys, look at this Mandakini, he s sweating like she did in Ram Teri Ganga Maili ! To this, everyone guffawed loudly.
Subodh Singh behaved as if he was holding a darbar in his first-floor, 400-sq-ft flat in a refugee colony. One of his foot soldiers, Mayank, asked, Is it just your face or even your trousers are wet?
PAKS felt as if he was choking and someone was strangling him. He wanted to cry loudly but to keep a fa ade of sportsman spirit, he gave a faint lopsided smile. He had never imagined he would have to go through such brutal verbal ragging. Soon a tear drop rolled down his cheek.
Subodh Singh saw this and threw a gamchha at him. This red-striped thin cloth was not just used as a towel by cow belt boys but was also a symbol of a Bihari s machismo-gamchha worked for a Bihari in the same way as underwear over pants worked for Superman!
Dear Meena Kumari, wipe your tears and answer my question! he said referring to the old-time tragedy queen of the movies.
Mayank shifted a bit, caught hold of a bottle of water next to him and offered it to PAKS, Have some water. It will work like tonic to wash away your hesitation.
PAKS gratefully gulped it down and felt slightly better. His lips were parched and by now he realized he wouldn t escape the torture till he answered his tormentors. Feeling like a soldier at the LoC, PAKS took a deep breath and answered with all the guts he could gather, in a high-pitched voice, I ll save my wife, sir!
The answer, unexpected as it was, led to a pin-drop silence. Even Mayank was stunned to hear this answer. He started looking at his leader Subodh Singh s face to get his reaction.
Subodh Singh asked him pointedly, And what about the mother who brought you into this beautiful world? And your sister who tied rakhi to you all her life and you made promises of her safety? Who will save them?
Although PAKS didn t have the energy to respond further to Subodh Singh s stupid questions, he was still a victim. He didn t want to look cocky or be taken for a fool, so taking a deep breath and gathering all his wits he replied, Sir, it s quite possible that the sister in the first room might be sleeping with her husband and similarly, Mother could be sleeping with Father. But when it comes to the wife, should not I be the one to protect her, sir, and not anyone else? The moment these words were out, PAKS began to pray. Oh God, please save me! My answer should not anger the esteemed members of this zoo.
Subodh Singh s serious face relaxed a bit and one could see a grin creeping in. He gave a solid thump of approval on PAKS s back. Mayank, the loyal foot soldier, immediately got up to switch on the FM radio at full blast. PAKS knew by now that he had been accepted by the gang and he could stay. A battle had been won.
Welcome to 440, Mukherjee Nagar! said Subodh Singh. He looked and behaved like the President of the nation, welcoming PAKS to the most prestigious address of Delhi.
PAKS let out a relieved sigh and grinned. His Delhi life had officially begun!
2
This bed is for you and that one is mine, said Mayank, pointing towards the cot next to his.
PAKS pushed the jaded steel trunk he had got under the wooden cot. He noticed a big spot of mustard oil on the pillow where Mayank might have rested his head many a night. Any Bihari can fry Lijjat papad in that! he thought. He turned around to see Mayank s head soaked in stinking mustard oil. He kicked his trunk harder under the bed so that no one could see it.
This jaded trunk was not just a trunk. It was much m