While I proudly consider myself a Kiwi, I also acknowledge my Indian roots. However, one thing I will openly admit without any disrespect to my culture or any other diaspora from the subcontinent, worldwide that there are a few Indian names which give me the giggles because of the way they sound. Examples include ‘Munni’ (sometimes viewed by me as an equivalent of Monica), Dilawar and Vinod, just to name a few.
Sometimes, I find myself playfully using these names as nicknames, or to insult someone. That does not rule out the possibility of me using true profanity depending on (the) circumstances but as already stated, I would rather replace the (word that represents) King of Profanity with ‘Fudge’.
Thirteen years ago, I was in my third year at university, which also happened to be my first year in Creative Writing. Back then, parking in the city was a breeze, unlike the maze it is now. Mum would take me in the car since her office was near the university I attended. We parked in a hotel (where only people using the hotel can park now) before she headed off to work and I attended lectures.
Now, it is a sad truth that some people just cannot park. Whether it’s a parking lot, the street, or even a basic parallel space, the chaos is bound to happen. I grew up witnessing this in India, and some parts of New Zealand also have experienced this.
One day, as we got into the garage, I noticed many cars parked so poorly that their back ends looked like they were ‘asking for a collision’. In a sarcastic tone, I said to mum, “Some Vinod has no idea that the way they have parked their car is at a point that it could get hit and the only way they’ll learn is if it actually gets hit!”
Just as we exited the car, a strikingly beautiful woman approaching us. Her outfit was effortlessly model-like, exuding an exotic allure that could have graced the cover of a fashion model magazine (for that is the impression that she gave me at least). She strode in our direction radiantly and smiled at mum as if she knew her and mum smiled back the same way.
To this day, I have no idea whether or not they really know each other but be that as it may, the haphazardly parked car I had been mocking turned out to be hers! As she got into her vehicle and drove off, mum turned to me with a humorous grin and asked, “Did you see your Vinod now?”
I replied, “Don’t you mean Vinodi?” at which mum corrected me, “Actually, it’s Vinodini. But be careful who you call Vinod or Vinodini, because you might just end up liking them”
THE END
So well expressed. Can visualize it.