Egad! It’s nearing the end of the year and I just noticed that our “Parsipanu” category isn’t exactly chubby, unlike a certain well-fed community member in the mirror. Time to remedy that attar-ghari (right this minute).
Hark back to 1980s Bombay. Your family just made plans to go to the Victoria Gardens, (also known as Jijamata Udyan or the zoo). In their excitement, they invited two neighboring families, and before you know it, there’s a phone marathon about how many akoori sandwiches, chicken patties, and mawa cakes will sustain the hungry horde. The day dawns just like any other, except nobody ever says that in writing. Bright and early, we like to chirp. So bright and early, three families and their hampers pile into their shiny, Parsi-owned Fiats and trundle off in anticipation of a fun picnic.
At the once immaculately-maintained gates of the zoo, a large board announces that today being a bank holiday, the gardens will be closed to the public.
“Chaalo, dhom dhuss ne keri chuss!” declares Uncle Kersi, in a suspiciously satisfied tone.
So we don’t have a picnic, but we do get a brand new Parsi-ism to play with:
“Dhom dhuss ne keri chuss”, it all came to nought.
Pronounced: Dhawm dhoo-s neh ke-ree choos
Direct translation: It all came tumbling down, now suck a mango.
Let’s give it a try:
“What was the point of training so rigorously for Sports Day if you were going to sprain your ankle the night before? Chaalo (come on), dhom dhuss ne keri chuss!”
And one more time:
“Kaiomarz thought his girlfriend was commitment-phobic, so he never discussed marriage. She eventually dumped him. Big fat dhom dhuss ne keri chuss!”
What situations have been a DDNKC for you? Time to share! Everyone wants to know. 🙂
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
What a fabulously expressive term!!!!!
How enlightening! Now I know what it means. The only times when I have said this line is in the following (meaningless) poem that Parsi moms used to recite to their kids.
This is first preceded by placing one fist stacked on another and the opposite person does the same (you have to place alternate fists so a stack of 4 fists). Then you say:
“Kakariya Kumar tahnay ketlo bhar?”
(What is the weight of your load?”
“Mann noh (weighing a ton)”
“Ek uttari nay matha par mook”
Put one (fist) on your head to lighten the load I guess)
“Bijoh uttari nay baggal (armpit) ma mook”
“Teejoh uttari nay etc etc —you get the picture.
Then come the following lines after all the fists are safely put so the load is now gone.
“Khata bor, Meetha bor, ghariyay ghariya laga chor.
DHUM DHOOS, KERI CHOOS”!
Yay! the kid is now happy, all clap. The end.
Totally meaningless but channeled down through the ages.
Anyone knows the meaning?
Holiday arranged for Mother and Grandson
Tickets confirmed and full-payment done
Then suddenly cold-feet intervene
A ‘foreign hand’ furtively seen
Trip canceled — DDNKC — very aptly sung!
love this one…we have a similar picnic story..me and a couple of friends planned an cool picnic with our kids at a nearby park. we arrived there, picnic hamper and all, spread a cute tablecloth onto the grass and were just about to pull out the food when a very foul tempered octogenarian watchman came along with a loud piercing whistle and made us put everything away immediately! DDNKC …big time DDNKC!
dipali: Haha, yes, the Parsis are rather colorful when it comes to language. 😉
handwrittenonly: I remember Kakarya Kumar!! Made the Boy play it with me after I read this. He was most amused. 😉
Aunty G: Sounds most interesting
Though I’m sure it was beleaguering
Most of us have had
Days not so glad
When we’ve gone DDNKC-ing
myfourboysandme: Aww! 😦 We must do a group picnic the next time we’re in town!