hurriedly go up only to come down instantly. “I see. So, the only hands going up are for the wine and beer. Next time I’m going to count that as a bid and that’ll be one precious glass of wine,” warned the auctioneer. Hereafter, no one risked letting their happy hour roll into an expensive hangover.
Aforeign backpacker entered a pharmacy in Fort recently looking tentative and a bit lost. “Yes?” asked the pharmacist. “I am looking for constipation medicine,” said the bespectacled young man softly. “Constipation medicine?” repeated the pharmacist in the presence of a female customer—and with no intention to exacerbate the troubled tourist’s embarrassment— pointed to his own stomach and asked: “Not clearing?” The tourist did not appear to understand the question. “I will give you a powder,” said the pharmacist, rubbing his fingers and gesturing to his colleague to get a chooran. Then, pushing the rustic plastic bottle towards the Asian man, he pronounced his short prescription backed up with large, reassuring Indian gestures. “Have one spoon at night,” he said. “Morning, all clear.” As medical prescriptions go, it was a confident one and perhaps much more effective than the one that the female customer nearby was tempted to suggest: “Just fold your hands and it will go away.” cancer the previous week, will also be remembered for his all-encompassing love for cricket, especially junior cricket. A good friend of some accomplished former India cricketers, Dilip Vengsarkar among them, Bhatkar was regularly seen at cricket grounds in Mumbai and Pune, watching children play at Under-12 and Under-16 levels. The late actor knew his cricketing numbers too and would rattle them off at will in the company of some of the game’s stalwarts. “There wasn’t a more genuine cricket fan than him,” tweeted Sanjay Manjrekar hours after his passing.