Vaishakenamanamana And The Cupcake of Dhoom

Many thanks to my good friend Doralin for helping in the conception of this story

It is 10:21 am in Mumbai.

The Sun was starting to impose itself on the day, and it burned down on Dei, Building Da Building. As its name suggests, Dei, Building Da Building is... well, a building. Numerous offices are housed in it, including Papa's Papadum, an international papadum conglomerate, and the Indian Privateers, Mercenaries and Agents Network (better known as IPMAN) headquarters (better known as HQ).

In the IPMAN's director's office, their head honcho and their best agent were conversing.

"I have a huge mission for you," said the director. He was a stout, thickly-bearded man. His name struck terror in his enemies. It was Arghabubu, or Bubu to his friends. "A very huge mission," Bubu emphasised.

"HAH!" came the cocky reply. Cocky replies were the trademark of Vaishakenamanamana - IPMAN's best agent, a tall, skinny mass of street smarts, arrogance and all-round cool, along with a thick moustache that curls at one side. It was like a very deformed Nike Swoosh, but not. So no legal trademark issues there. As if to prove his cockiness beyond any doubt, Vaishakenamanamana proudly proclaimed, "Dei Bubu, I already have a very huge mission in my pants da!"

Bubu ignored this comment and pressed on. "The Cupcake of Dhoom was stolen!" Bubu had said this with much gesticulation and dramatic effect.

Obviously, this was done to evoke some sort of dramatic, surprised response from Vaishakenamanamana, but he stood there, unblinking. "You know if it's just a cupcake, you can always get a new one. I know of a lot of bakeries in our district - "

"NO! NO! NO!" Bubu interjected. "You pandi! It's not just any cupcake! It's the Cupcake of Dhoom!"

That was when Bubu broke into song and dance.

"The Cupcake of Dhoom is not just any cupcake," Bubu sang. "It's not something your average Indian baker can bake." He did an intricate dance move that mimicked putting bread into an oven. Then he started shaking his hand, as though he accidentally touched the metal grill of an oven. "The Cupcake of Dhoom gives great power to he who owns it." At that moment, several female back-up dancers appear out of nowhere, making the director's office awfully crowded. They stomp towards Bubu, looking incensed. Bubu quickly sang, "Or she who owns it, to be politically correct and non-sexist."

The back-up dancers dispersed, and Bubu was free to sing to Vaishakenamanamana again. "Oh Vaishakenamanamana, listen to me," Bubu sang with pleading voice and eyes. "If he who has it consumes it, tomorrow afternoon at three; Then the world will be in a situation worse than Pooja's Chapati." This was indeed a bad situation. Pooja's Chapati was a restaurant that was dank, run-down, unlit (they were unable to pay 4 months' worth of utilities bills) and infested with vermin. Its chapatis had a flavour and look that was in sync with the general theme of the restaurant.

"And the person who has it is..." Bubu made a dramatic dance move that exuded a dark, sinister element. "Uner Arinum!"

Vaishakenamanamana held back a yawn. "You couldn't have just talked this out with me?" And after a pause, "So where can I find Uner Arinum?"

And Bubu told him.

-----------------------------------------------------------

It was 30 minutes to three in the afternoon the following day. I could have said it was 2:30 pm, but that wouldn't be staying true to the long-winded Bollywood nature of this text now would it?

Look.

Vaishakenamanamana was hurtling towards a door that led into the interior of a warehouse. He found himself in a wide storage room. In the middle of it, he saw Uner Arinum.

Uner Arinum was a criminal mastermind unrivaled in all of Mumbai an in parts of New Delhi. She - yes Uner Arinum was a woman! Who said Indian women couldn't be criminal masterminds? Sexists, all of you!

I digress.

Uner Arinum was a tall, thin woman with piercing eyes, clad in a purple saree. She was famous for The Indian Job, a heist similar to The Italian Job. Only, instead of being set in Italy, it was set in Calcutta. And instead of millions of dollars being stolen, millions of muruku were stolen.

When Vaishakenamanamana barged into the warehouse, she was sitting, staring intently at the cupcake she would consume in half an hour.

"Ah, Vaishakenamanamana," she said, rising from her seat. "I was wondering when you'd drop in."

"Ah, Uner Arinum," Vaishakenamanamana said, matching his nemesis' tone. "I was wondering when you'd get plastic surgery." Indeed, Uner Arinum had a face only a blind mother would love.

"Mock me all you want, Agent Vaishakenamanamana - God your name is a mouthful - but you can't stop me once I eat the sacred Cupcake of Dhoom!" As the sareed woman said this, she held the Cupcake of Dhoom aloft, her expression haughty, as though she was carrying a cupcake of immense power.

"The only thing you'll be eating is my crap!" exclaimed Vaishakenamanamana.

The IPMAN agent then started dancing, accompanying it with a song of deep and subtle meaning.

Vaishakenamanamana put his fingers together, and brought his hand up towards his mouth - the Indian gesture for eating.

"Hey you," he sang. "Eat my crap."

He then swiftly leapt towards Uner Arinum and grabbed the Cupcake of Dhoom. Doing so, the Cupcake fell to his lap. He gestured to the cupcake and sang, "Cos I got the cupcake here on my lap."

He repeated his first dance move. "So eat my crap," he repeated in sing-song.

Suddenly, a large group of Indian women in sarees appeared behind him, mimicking the eating gesture/dance move. "So eat his crap," they chorused.

Feeling indignant about being told to eat someone else's crap, Uner Arinum tried her best to come up with a comeback, but it wouldn't come. She moved her feet as though to begin a dance, but she accidentally stepped on her saree and fell forward.

"Argh, fuckface murtabak!" she cursed as she planted her face into the floor. The poor Indian criminal mastermind (not so) subsequently fainted.

-----------------------------------------------

"Vaishakenamanamana, I want to congratulate you on a job brilliantly done," said Arghabubu to his best agent when the latter got back to HQ.

"It was nothing," came the trademark cocky reply. "I turned Uner Arinum upside down. All in a day's work."

"Not really," Arghabubu corrected the younger man. "You still have to write the report. That is part of your day's work."

"Dei! Fuck da!"