Off The Cuff: A wry look at life

It never rains but it pours. Literally. In a place called Bengdubi. A name which exemplifies the saying. "Beng", the Bengali word for 'frog' , and "Dubi" meaning "drown". So you get the picture. A place where even frogs drown.

But one unforgettable year, for the first time in Bengdubi's history, there was no rain. That was the year I went there on holiday. Coincidence?

My brother happened to be posted there. And I had promised him that I would visit. I honestly don't know how he always managed to get posted to such out of the way places. You'll know what I mean when I tell you that next to the military quarters were these fields where one could see herds of elephants roaming the ranges.

But that year there were no rains. The locals shook their head in disbelief. Never in living memory had this happened. Of course, they were absolutely unaware of Little Jinx's descent into their habitat. Only my brother and sister-in-law weren't surprised. They wisely kept quiet. In the interests of peace. Disclosing the awful secret might have meant a riot.

They could almost see farmers from surrounding villages marching to the army settlement, scouring the barracks for the person responsible for changing weather patterns. Wrecking the frogs' cycle of rebirth. On my return home, I received a letter from my sister-in-law informing me that the drought had been broken. It poured cats, dogs and frogs. The day after I left.

There's another memory. Probably suppressed all these years due to my reluctance to face the truth. That I was jinxed. A letter from the same brother and sister-in-law boasting about their new posting. Actually within reach of civilisation. Of course, they didn't specify which civilisation. An invitation to visit them promptly accepted. Ticket booked before they could change their minds. The accommodation here was a modern flat.

No more large ramshackle bungalows with rickety fixtures designed to test the patience of a saint. But they had left out of their reckoning the effect of the family's bad luck charm. Need I say more? Well, if you insist.

From the day of my arrival to the day I left, there were a series of inexplicable glitches. Malfunctioning of electronic gadgets, unprecedented power failures, dry taps. You name it, it happened. It's been a long time since I received another invitation.

I tried to console myself by telling myself that it wasn't me. That all these problems that cropped up to coincide with my presence in a certain place couldn't be my fault. These were perennial problems that anyone might encounter in a country like mine.

Then I went to Europe on a holiday. First to Germany to visit a friend. After receiving me at the airport, my friend rushed to work, telling me to make myself comfortable and have a nap to overcome the jet lag. Decided to have a long, leisurely bath and then fall asleep.

Entered the bathroom to run water for my bath. A strange noise greeted my ears when I turned the taps. And then silence. But no water cascaded forth. I wondered if German taps were different from Indian ones. Tried again and again. But to no avail.

Decided to abort phase one of my plans and just go to bed. On my friend's return from work, I commented on the similarity between our countries. The water shortage. The nonplussed expression on my friend's face told me that this was going to backfire on me. And it did. I was told that it couldn't be. This had never happened in all the years my friend had lived in that flat. Then I understood. I made sure that my friend was seated. And gently disclosed the secret of my mysterious powers.