Terminal Humour

The other day, again when I was working quietly, my mother suddenly burst into peals of ringing laughter. Since she is renown for her proclivity for puerile humour, I waited for the gusts of merriment to subside before asking, not without trepidation mind you: “What is so funny?”

This:

[Ignore the last line. It is a colloquialism in Marathi, whose import I have no hope of translating into English. And an immediate equivalent doesn’t spring to mind.]

Now, I found this mildly amusing. Not hysterical to the point of tears running down my face, which was mom’s condition. So I asked her why it was so funny. And her explanation was something!

Me: “Dude. This isn’t THAT funny. Why are you laughing so much?”
Mom: “I am imagining Queen Victoria turning into Shivaji!”
Me: *snort* “The joke is about the train station, not the people!”
Mom: “Can you imagine? That fat, pug-faced..” [I started laughing here.] “..old, regal lady sprouting a beard?”
Me: “Oh God. Ma, you’re too much..” *laughing*
Mom: “And balls and penises!”
Me: “Wait. Penises? PLURAL?!”
Mom: “Well yeah!”
Me: “I think I would have heard about it if Shivaji’s anatomy was that, erm, unique.”
Mom: “No no. It is a terminus na? Multiple platforms, exits, lanes…”
Me: *facepalm*

True story.

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