Angry Young Me vs. The Sholay of Everyday Life
Some mornings are peaceful. You wake up at 4:15 AM, hear temple bells, azaan, and sip chai in silence. Other mornings? They begin with your Freestyle Libre 3 sensor beeping like Gabbar Singh yelling from the hills:
“Arre o Vidya! Kitne sugar level the?”
And that is how one fine day, my otherwise serene dawn turned into a full-fledged Bollywood masala drama. Except the villains weren’t dacoits in Ramgarh. They were my gadgets, services, and bills—armed with error messages, buffering lights, and maintenance charges.
The only way to make sense of such absurdity was to stage it entirely in the cinematic universe of Sholay.
Scene 1: The Wake-Up Beep (Basanti Won’t Stop Dancing)
It begins at 4:15 AM.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The Freestyle Libre 3 sensor does not gently suggest, “Please check sugar.” Oh no. It beeps like Basanti after ten cups of chai, dancing on command for Gabbar Singh.
“Chal Dhanno! Nahi toh beep rukega kaise!”
I stumble out of bed, muttering like Amitabh’s Jai:
“Yeh beep mujhe jeene nahi dega, aur main isse bajne nahi doonga.”
But Libre has no mute. It growls when sugar dips, sulks when sugar spikes, and refuses to compromise. In that moment, it’s less a medical device, more an interfering saas in a prime-time TV serial.
Scene 2: The iPhone’s Identity Crisis (Thakur Without Hands)
I reach for my iPhone, expecting comfort in the smooth glass. Instead, my so-called premium device sits confused. No eSIM slot. Airtel doesn’t recognize it. Wi-Fi? Shrugs.
The iPhone stares at me like Thakur after Gabbar chopped off his hands.
Me: “Thoda toh signal do!”
iPhone: “Arre o Thakur! Tumhare paas network nahi hai.”
I slam the phone like Jai slamming a whisky glass:
“Mere paas paisa hai, premium hai, brand hai… tumhare paas kya hai?”
iPhone smirks, “Mere paas No SIM hai.”
Some people buy gold. I bought an identity crisis.
Scene 3: Betrayal of the Portals (Gabbar Singh Laughs)
Desperate for distraction, I open my laptop. Maybe online payments will save me.
The screen loads. Then freezes. Homepage gone.
Refresh once. Twice. Nothing.
From the ether, I hear Gabbar’s baritone laugh:
“Ha ha ha… Arre o Vidya, portal se tumhe homepage milega toh main kya karunga?”
I glare back like Thakur: “System mujhe jeene nahi dega.”
Scene 4: The Modem Blinks (Shashi Kapoor Moment)
Surely, Wi-Fi will help. I look at the modem. It blinks. Slowly. Mockingly.
Me: “Kuch toh kar yaar.”
Modem: “Mere paas light hai.”
That single green bulb flashes at its own lazy rhythm, buffering me into despair.
Like Shashi Kapoor in Deewar, it repeats loyally:
“Mere paas bandwidth hai… thoda sa.”
Scene 5: The Washing Machine Protest (Basanti’s Monologue)
The laundry cycle begins bravely, then dies mid-spin. The washing machine stands still, wet clothes sagging inside.
I imagine it as Basanti, launching into her famous monologue:
“Gabbar Singh! Yeh machine jab tak chalegi, tumhara naam gati se mita degi!
Par agar yeh ruk gayi… toh kapde kapde hi rah jayenge!”
The clothes wait. The drum sulks. The spin button stares at me like Veeru on the water tank, threatening to jump.
Scene 6: The Water Purifier Cough (Basanti’s Dhanno)
Next comes the water purifier. One push of the button and it coughs like an overworked extra in a 1970s film. Finally, it spits half a glass.
Like Dhanno dragging her cart up a hill, the purifier sighs:
“Arre o Basanti! Aaj paani nikalna mushkil hai.”
The water tastes fine. But the machine has adopted Gabbar’s attitude:
“Jo paani mujhse maangega… woh pyaas se marega.”
Scene 7: The Maintenance Fees Villain (Veeru on the Tank)
Finally, the landlord’s maintenance bill arrives. Not on time. Always when you least expect it, like Sambha on the watchtower.
This year, the charges have multiplied mysteriously. Service fees. Lift repair. Clubhouse nobody uses.
The bill slaps the table like Veeru on top of the water tank:
“Basanti, in kutton ke saamne mat nachna!
Aur Vidya, bina padhe bill sign karna.”
I protest: “Itna paisa kyu maangta hai tu?”
Bill smirks: “Arre o Vidya! Paisa paisa hota hai, chhota ya bada nahi hota.”
Scene 8: The Roof-Top Climax (Veeru Style)
By now, I’m ready to stand on my terrace like Dharmendra’s Veeru.
“Arre o technology ke logon! Agar tumne mujhe abhi Wi-Fi nahi diya, toh main apne blog ko yahi se publish kar doonga—SMS ke zariye!”
The neighbours peep out. The sensor beeps louder. The modem blinks faster. The iPhone shrugs.
Veeru threatened to jump for Basanti. I threaten to cancel subscriptions.
Nobody listens.
Scene 9: The Philosophical Interval (Thakur Speaks)
I sip chai, exhausted. Around me, the gadgets blink, beep, cough, shrug.
In my head, Thakur’s solemn voice whispers:
“Vidya, yeh technology bhi ek daku hai.
Aaj light hai, kal buffer hai.
Aaj network hai, kal No SIM.
Yehi hai anitya—impermanence.”
It hits me. Buddha spoke of impermanence under a Bodhi tree. I live it through my Wi-Fi modem.
Scene 10: The Supporting Cast (Soorma Bhopali, Sambha, Jailor)
As if on cue, the side characters join the drama.
- Soorma Bhopali (Customer Care): “Arre wah! Complaint number chahiye? Hum toh waise bhi reply dete hi nahi.”
- Sambha (Modem Light): “O Gabbar, yeh aadmi hamesha complaint karta rehta hai.”
- Asrani (Payment Portal Jailor): “Hum angrez ke zamane ke portal hai… slow hi rahenge!”
Each device finds its cinematic twin.
Scene 11: The Sugar Rebellion (Gabbar Strikes Again)
Just when I think it’s over, the Libre sensor beeps again. Now sugar is rising after chai.
Gabbar roars:
“Arre o Vidya! Pehle low tha, ab high ho gaya. Ab bol, kitne aadmi the?”
I laugh helplessly. This is my Ramgarh. My villains are not bandits, but gadgets. Their weapons are not rifles, but error messages.
Final Reality Check (The Curtain Call)
The modem blinks. The iPhone shrugs. The washing machine sulks. The purifier coughs. The maintenance bill waits.
And I sit quietly with my chai.
Because if Sholay taught us anything, it is that life is a drama. Heroes fight, villains laugh, sidekicks monologue. And in the end, impermanence wins.
Technology, too, is like that. It promises loyalty, but one day—when you least expect—it blinks “No Service” and leaves you homepageless.
So I raise my chai to Jai, Veeru, Basanti, Thakur, Gabbar, and the absurd Sholay of my everyday life.
“Jo technology se dosti karega… woh buffering se marega.”
Source: CoCreated with ChatGPT
Itinerant Storyteller 