Nu Look

The Garden wore a new look this morning. A set of smart, wooden benches have come up, replacing the old, decrepit monstrosities that had lined the lawns for more than a decade.

Exercising on a new Garden bench

Why is Sitaram Hivarkar trying to hide from Monthi Serrao?

Not only do the new benches contribute to the overall aesthetics of the Garden, they also eliminate the daily chore of having to provide for plastic chairs during the exercises.
From Arun Patil and Santosh Tyagi to Teja Singh Bhambra, Banoo Apa, Razia Khan, Ved Prakash Grover and Sitaram Hivarkar, many members could get to rest their tired bodies on the new garden furniture while the exercises were on.
However, not all were happy. The common complaint was that the benches were too low for comfort and those suffering from lower back or orthopaedic problems had to make an extra effort to pull themselves up from a sitting position. Moreover, with their fixed arm rests, the benches felt too cramped for seating three (as they are meant to) and appeared to be not as sturdy or durable as their concretised predecessors were. Those given to vigorous breathing exercises were said to be causing minor tremors on the bench, much to the discomfort of other occupant(s).
What became a bigger sensation though were Monthi Serrao’s persuasive skills at getting us all to watch a Marathi movie, Natasamrat. People usually assess a film for its story, acting or entertainment value. But for Monthi, the yardstick for cinematic excellence is a movie’s ability to make you cry. “The picture is so good that it drove my daughter-in-law to tears… what more can I say?” she reasoned.
The immediate response was an enthusiastic “we will also cry for you”, provided we get free tickets. Srichand Arora thought Monthi already had the tickets to give away and tried to dissuade her. “Not everybody understands Marathi here,” he told her. But others, upon hearing “cinema tickets” made a beeline to her, demanding free tickets. Monthi had to clarify that she was no more than recommending a good movie and if anybody wanted a ticket, s/he must pay Rs200. Karuna Waghmare promptly sprang up. “Monthi sells cinema tickets,” she chirruped with the conspiratorial wink reserved for a black-marketing tout.