The year: 1992. I had just landed my first job. As the morning duty gradually made way for the graveyard shift, I found I had a lot of time at my disposal. Though I spent considerable time reading and listening to music, something was amiss. Movies! Yes, movies. I had been an avid movie buff during my salad days, never missing a single flick that hit the screen.
The four years of freelancing had created a big void. While I was richer by experience, I was poorer by several hundred titles. Come to think of it! I hadn’t seen a single movie in four years! Especially Hollywood flicks. Video cassettes were in vogue and there were lending libraries by the score. I didn’t think twice. I bought a Video Cassette Player.
Star Wars? “Somebody’s taken it,” said the video parlour man. Romancing the Stone? “Taken.” Predator? “Taken.” Indiana Jones? I tried one last time. “You are lucky, sir. There’s one.’’ He came up with a movie. ‘’Indiana Joan,’’ it read. I frowned. “Don’t mind the sticker. We do that to evade detection—raids for pirated ones.’’
“Lunch first. Adventure later,” Appa said. I finished my lunch early. I switched on the TV, slipped the cassette into the player and hit the rewind button. “I’m ready,” I screamed. “We are not. In the meantime check whether there is any fungus on the tape. That last movie you took had a lot of them,” Appa said.
I squeezed the play button. A man and a woman were talking. Boring. I forwarded the tape. No sign of Harrison Ford. The two were passionately kissing each other. I hit fast forward again.
What I saw next gave me the creeps. God! It was a hardcore porno movie! I’d have been doomed if Appa and Amma had seen the video. “Are you ready,” Appa asked. “We’ll be there in a minute or two.’’ My heart pounded like a drum. OMG! I had to take the tape out before Appa and Amma stepped into the living room. I prayed to all the gods. The tape ejected just as Appa, followed by Amma, trooped into the room.
“Everything OK?” “No,” I said regaining my composure. “It’s full of fungus. Good that you told me to check the tape.” “Awww ... bad luck. Return it at once. Give the man a piece of your mind. Always have the tape checked for fungus before you bring it home,” Appa said. I took off like a bat out of hell. Back at the parlour, gave the man a piece of my mind. Just as Appa said. Post-incident, I’d never ever brought a video home without checking for ‘fungus.’ A vice on screen had made me wise indeed. Thanks to Indiana Joan and the video of doom!
Email: smartkutti@gmail.com