One inexplicable love most humorists have is for gourmet food. Kalki and Devan, the two humour specialists in Tamil tickled the funny bones of many readers with their feather-soft witticisms. They did not live long, denying me the opportunity of watching them live from a ring side seat.
Ja Ra Su, short for J R Sundaresan also known by the moniker Bhakkiam Ramaswami, a reputed name after Kalki and Devan, made me wonder if he had humour packed in his bones instead of bone marrow. The snack bhaji was always close to his heart, rather his tummy.
It could be any variety, onion, potato, banana, apple or not playing favourites kadamba bhaji (involving a medley of vegetables). Decades back, when we first met in a restaurant, his eyes were on the lookout for the waiter ordered to bring his bhajis. The moment it arrived, piping hot, in all its glory of brownish bulge, with coconut chutney and sambar, his face lit up like a cricket stadium during a D/N fixture. If I had snatched that plate away and told him he could have it, as a trade for half his kingdom, or the hand of his daughter in marriage, he would have instantaneously acquiesced, because he had neither.
His dalliance with humour writing is too well known to be gone into, but one thing he did surreptitiously, when his wife was away, is his foray into the kitchen to make bhajis the way he wanted. The good lady’s precautionary drill to keep his cholesterol on a leash ended up as diet bhaji. After his indulgence, he cleaned the kitchen meticulously to remove all traces of evidence of such a crime of commission. Even a Sherlock Homes with his magnifying glass would not have found any clinching evidence. This is a case of ‘now it can be told’ as this Samrat of humour recently bade good bye to his family, lakhs of readers and a plateful of bhajis.
Yet another doyen is Natanam, the artist cum muralist who did the illustrations of my articles numbering over 750 every week. His medical problems are legion. One corporate hospital in Chennai might have added a block from the amount culled from him. Being a Type One diabetic, his heart always pined for sweets, especially the mini paneer jangris. This story may be apocryphal but when he was in ICU #2, a promotion from
ICU #1 due to his system’s good behaviour, a visitor who called on him left a small bag carelessly within his reach. Natanam whose olfactory proclivities were sharp, smelt juicy jangris. Grabbing one he went ahead enjoying with a rapturous gleam in the eyes, typical of diabetics. Nurse Omana, who saw the spectacle, tottered and swooned and was rushed to Casualty.
J S Raghavan
Email: writerjsr@gmail.com