The breaking in of a newbie

Newbies have to be broken in. If you throw them at the deep end, they'll simply die of shock. This blogger has a substantially inflated opinion of himself and proclaims expertise in matters that he knows precious little about. But even he readily admits to being a complete newbie in one matter . And he was very privileged to be broken into the said field by two acknowledged experts.It must be clarified right here that this blogger has not indulged in this activity for some 30 years and therefore approached it with some trepidation.

They were very kind. They chose the shallow end of the pool for the first dip of the toe. Apparently this specimen which I was introduced to is not "typical".  But was sufficient to give a good general idea. They prefaced the experience, by a good nourishment of the body (otherwise called lunch) in preparation for nourishment of the mind.

As it started, they very helpfully explained who was who. I was advised that the sum total of people in the city who did not recognise the main protagonists  was one - that specimen being yours truly. But they didn't rub it in. They kindly explained the antecedents of the worthies. They however drew a line, when on being told that the chief was titled "Young Thalapathi", I respectfully asked who was the older version !

Matters went on predicted lines. I stared rather open mouthed. I fancy my  minders were trying to observe me with the corner of their eyes rather than staring straight ahead. There was whistles and oohs when the gentleman with the title previously referred to appeared . He , alas, was not tall, dark or handsome - in fact he looked rather like my neighbourhood Romeo. I had mistakenly assumed that there would be many gorgeous women I could at least ogle at. Unfortunately I was advised that there was just one in this example they had chosen for me and that I would have to wait a while before feasting my eyes - to be fair, the lady was worth the wait.

The start was "electric" if you will pardon the pun. Dropping of pants and a lesson on conductivity of liquids was not what I had expected. After some inanity, the time came for breaking into song and dance. The flower train rather boggled the mind. I chuckled at some outrageous costumes and gyrations, but I couldn't help guffaw loudly at the sight of Tamilians trying to do the Bhangra - there are some things Tamilians can't do and imitation of  Bhangra is certainly one of them.  When a  break came, I thought the experience was over until my advisers informed me that it was only the first instalment. More was to come. I had presumed that the moment was usually a call to fortify oneself with exotic preparations of the cola nut. However the experts were somewhat wary of the possibility of their subject bolting through the door - they wisely suggested that quenching of thirst be somewhat deferred and that being glued to wherever one was , was a safer course of action.

More did come. Another song and dance which morphed suddenly from an attempted kiss featuring rather scantily clad foreign beauties gyrating to forgettable music. Some lessons on the causes and effects of bodily activities best left unmentioned. Some incredible Tamilian names that would even flummox the most creative of new baby names handbooks - Come on; have you ever heard anybody named PP and KP. Also featured was a very detailed primer on innovative obstetrics. An elaborately worked example of how to snatch the bride from the altar. And an answer to the eternal dilemma facing mankind - can you kiss without bumping noses !

All was well that ended well. The beauty and the "beast" finally got together and presumably lived happily ever after. The breaking in was successful. To my eager experts, I opined that the experience was "not bad" and that an encore might even be a possibility. After which the two sorely tried champions, the wise one and the breezy one, to whom I am eternally grateful,  shooed me off . Thereafter, I am told, they retired to a vegetarian version of the proverbial watering hole !