As a Little Primer

I do not know if Old Grumpy Face existed, obviously - may he rest in mythical peace - but when I tried to dream up Pune's first pensioner, I could only come up with a grumpy face. Hence the nomenclature, and if you know your Pune, you cannot help but agree.

I grew up in what is now the central part of Pune, Deccan Gymkhana. My childhood was spent mostly at my grandparent's place, a lovely bungalow that was situated just behind Café Good Luck. That is, my weekends were spent there - the rest of the week was spent daydreaming in school and in not doing homework at home.

But in and around that house stayed the kind of person that made up, and still makes up, Pune's spine - the old, gloriously cranky, outrageously cantankerous, magnificently eccentric Punekar. Seldom on the face of the earth has walked a set of human beings that was as happily loony as was the Old Punekar.

People well versed in the affairs of the city will know that one need not be old be an Old Punekar - to appropriate lines made famous in another, more apt tongue, even a four year old kid in Pune is in the habit of bunching up his shorts, pouting his lips, and disclaiming to the world that things simply ain't the same anymore.

It is the Old Punekar's lot to be happily unhappy about the universe at large. Nothing ever works, cynicism is the only way to go, pessimism is the operating philosophy - and yet, don't worry, be happy.
We Old Punekars are what you get when you cross a laid back Goan with a pessimistic Britisher, in other words.

"It's going to rain today - I can feel it in my bones" the Britisher will say, glumly staring out of the window. He will then square his shoulders, grab the umbrella, and phlegmatically step out into the grey sleet.
"I didn't work today - it was raining", the laid back Goan will grin, as he sips his Kings. His fifth of the afternoon, naturally.

"I won't go to work because it's going to rain today - I can feel it in my bones" the Punekar will announce over his morning cuppa.

In the evening, over a steaming plate of kanda poha, he will then blame global warming for the total absence of rain. Pune's weather is just not what it used to be, he'll add for good measure.

Over the course of many centuries of painstaking research, we've thusly acquired the best of all civilizations. It is an ongoing process - several of Pune's most famous sons are currently engaged in researching foreign civilizations abroad.

This little description of the Old Punekar does not begin to do justice, naturally. There are very many nuances to the species, and to fit all of them into the length of the conventional blog post will be a little difficult. Moreover, to describe the Old Punekar, one would have to describe Pune as well - and that is a whole other Herculean effort.

But one needs the other, and we'll begin by describing the spirit of Pune - that elusive, yet ever-evident concept.

As I remember it, of course.
It's simply not the same anymore.