Gaming Pwns

The proceedings of the Ladies Club have come to a halt for a coffee break. The ladies are gathered in the hall, togged in their polysilk saris and tussar salwar kameezes, battling the slow whir of fans and the sluggish function of  the A/Cs, awaiting their speaker.

 

“Kaapi romba mosam, tch“, says Mrs. Kunchitapatham to Mrs.Swaminathan, both of whom, henceforth, shall be referred to as Mrs.K and Mrs.S, as brevity is the soul of nomenclature. They nod, saddened by their diminishing ranks before the new tricks played out by the new gaming enthusiasts-the new women on the block.

 

Mrs.Arvind arrives and takes over the mike. She has just landed from Kansas and has taken over the club’s charges to infuse new blood on issues subsumed in the battle of tambolas, kitty purchases and raffles. At her posh apartment in Alwarpet, she does not yell at her children, cursing, “Saniyane“ .Instead she will cuss, “don’t be daft”; no “pramadam Kanna“, only “awesome da Kanna“.  

 

“Dear ladies, they now say that cricket is a new ball game with the IPL upon us”, she begins without preamble.

 

“She is right”, nods Mrs. S in agreement. ”This IPL is very bad, my grandsons run to the stadium for Vijay’s autograph instead of MS Dhoni’s”, she says.

 

“I disagree”, Mrs.Arvind pounds the gavel before her. “What with Preity’s wardrobe, her yum-man, the dancing peacock SRK and other Bollywood heads, we have plenty to watch out for.Hurrah for making a spectacle of cricket. We love making a song and dance out of it”, she says.

 

Mrs.S nods approvingly. “Thanks to TV, my doubts over that Sourav were laid to rest when he swung his shirt off at Lord’s.”

 

“Eh?”, whispers Mrs K, not quite getting the drift.

 

“You see, he still wore his poonal like a necklace, not at all like our modern boyz of Chennai”, Mrs.S  explains, a trifle sad over her son Mohan refusing to wear his.

 

“Shh”, silences young Mrs.Ranganath, taking notes, as she dreams of being the next president of the club.

 

“First it was TV, then cricket and soccer matches that took our men away from our arms on weekend evenings and now they are playing new games upon us. Gaming exclusion is a brutal form of hegemony perpetuated upon the tender souls of slaving wives, “Mrs. Arvind thunders.

 

“I think her stay in America has put aggressive ideas into her head”, says Mrs. S, disapprovingly.

 

“Move over soccer widows and cricket widows, for the troubled lot of pwned widows of gaming need our support,” Mrs. Arvind yells into the mike.  

 

Mrs.K is shocked, “Yenna abasagunama she is talking, chi. Her husband is alive and healthy only, no? What is this nonsense about widowhood?” she says horrified.

 

“The weight of the pwn is killing us”, Mrs. Arvind says, drawing out the word she has gathered from the shouts that come from her sons’ room before the TV.

 

Mrs. S nods sagely. “She is talking sense now. Have you been to T.Nagar recently? The escalating price of a puhwn  (sovereign) of gold is unbelievable”, she says in a hushed whisper.

 

Mrs. Arvind continues, unmindful of the murmurs amongst her bewildered audience. “Our men don’t want to cook, don’t want to go shopping, do the laundry and listen to our woes.They arrive from office, gang up with the children and get into gaming. The  shouts of `pwned’ are eroding the dignity of our marriages. Whither the purity in our family lives?”, she thunders.

 

“Yes, yes, purity is a must. I have already changed all my old gold into coins from Tanishq before the prices rose to sky-high levels”, said Mrs.K wisely.

 

“Word is out that even at office hours, our menfolk act busy before computers comparing last evening’s scores with pals and are busy discussing new devices and fixing appointments. Some have struck gold by fashioning a career designing games. Some gift it to their spouses on occasions, instead of customary flowers and hard cash”, Mrs. Arvind says ominously.

 

“Her husband must work in a fancy office if they give designer gold for Deepavali”, Mrs.K says grudgingly.

 

“All that we women hold valuable in relationships has been pwned in our marriages. It’s time to protest”, says Mrs.Arvind, sounding the clarion call.

 

“Aye, aye”, claps Mrs.Ranganath, secretly happy that Mrs. Arvind’s valuables have been pawned. Afterall she best knows the weight of mortgages.

 

Mrs.K remembers :”Hey, they will telecast that old Bhagyaraj flick, ‘Puhwn Puhwnthaan this evening. I am a fan of his nasal-voiced digs”.

 

“Starting next week we begin lessons on gaming-for-dummies at our club’s premises.All those who want their husbands back in their marriages, learn the tricks of gaming and enjoin them. For if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em”, Mrs. Arvind rounds her speech with a wink.

 

Mrs. K and Mrs.S leave in a huff at this point.”Why does she want to beat our husbands and make a game of it? Let’s take an auto to Pondy Bazaar and check out the prices of a puhwn of gold”, they say melting into the Madras noon.

 

Mrs. Arvind  wants the last word. “Men will be pwned when we learn to play the game”, she says.

 

(Postscript:Rumbles within the club indicated that Mrs. Ranganath was secretly lobbying for the return of the tambola over gaming before the next elections).

 

---

Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)

• How to invest in your relationship: Buy her a computer