So the brat hops up to me, last evening and perches himself on the arm of the sofa I was half comatose in, it being the sleeping hour. "Mamma," he piped up. "Tuday, I gave M a BPL."
A BPL. The last I had heard, this was a brand name of the first truly world class Indian electronics and appliances brand and had the baritoned voiced one endorsing it, before the slew of the international brands came and mowed it down.
Or BPL was an income category which was raised and lowered conveniently depending on how we wanted to project our poverty figures to the world.
"How can you give M a BPL," I asked, verily confused.
I asked for a demo. I was to be sorry later that I asked for one.
I was requested to stand up and turn around, and one hefty one was swiftly planted on my rather cushioned behind. I gasped and sputtered in rage. "Brat," I yelled in Wake The Dead tones. "What did you just do?"
'Bud you aksed me to show yu BPL. Dat is BPL. Bum Pe Laat."
Gah. Yes, I want to plant a BPL on the chappie who said this in Zindagi Na Mile Dobara. And while I'm at it, one on the chappie who thought up Mutravisarjan from 3 Idiots. Yes. Two BPLs ready to be served hot.
3 opinions:
You should be thankful they didnt use GPL, which is actually the more used phrase. You wouldn't have liked elaborating that.
ROFL!!! BPL hasnt come home yet! though am with you for one to the chaps who thought up such stuff!!
hahahaha. You asked for it!!!!
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