Njan Gandharvan - The Heavenly Misadventure

Prologue: This story is a satiric take on the Malayalam movie Njan Gandharvan, where celestial romance meets earthly hilarity. It’s a tale of love, chaos, and some really bad tea shop manners, reimagined with a humorous twist.

Once upon a time, in the lush village of Kumbalam, where the locals had more drama than the regional soap operas, there lived a girl named Bhama. Bhama was a classic romantic; she dreamt of moonlit serenades and secret love letters, but all she got was a noisy neighbourhood where even her pet dog got proposals before she did.

One fine morning, while Bhama was brooding about her singlehood, a dashing, golden-haired man appeared out of nowhere in her backyard. He introduced himself as Gandharvan, a celestial being. Bhama, assuming he was just another salesman trying to sell hair oil, told him off. But when he levitated mid-argument, she fainted dramatically, like every heroine in a low-budget drama.

When she came to, Gandharvan explained that he was a messenger of love and romance, sent to grant her a wish. Bhama was skeptical. "Are you sure you're not just here to ask for money in exchange for heavenly blessings?" she quipped. But Gandharvan, with his charming smile and glowing aura, convinced her otherwise.

Their adventures began innocently enough. Gandharvan, clueless about earthly ways, tried to blend in but kept messing up. At a local tea shop, he ordered chaaya but drank it with the saucer, causing a mini-scandal. "Gandharva style," he called it, instantly becoming an Instagram sensation in Kumbalam (though he had no clue what Instagram was).

Meanwhile, Bhama found herself enjoying his company. He serenaded her with celestial songs that sounded suspiciously like old Malayalam hits. But their bliss was short-lived. The village elders, ever suspicious of anything remotely entertaining, decided that Gandharvan was a foreign spy sent to steal the recipe for Kerala's famed puttu.

As the mob gathered pitchforks (and a particularly determined man brought his rooster as backup), Gandharvan decided it was time to come clean. "I'm a Gandharvan, not a spy!" he declared. The villagers stared blankly until one elder exclaimed, "Ah, Gandharvan! Like the guy who always gets dumped in Malayalam movies!"

In a final twist, Gandharvan revealed that he could stay on Earth only if he followed the rule of celestial love: no attachments, no heartbreaks. Bhama, ever the rebel, asked, "What if I come with you instead?" Gandharvan chuckled. "Do you know how bad the celestial Wi-Fi is? No TikTok, no YouTube—just eternal peace and hymns."

Realizing that heavenly love wasn't all it's cracked up to be, Bhama bid farewell to her celestial suitor. Gandharvan, with a tearful smile, zoomed back to the heavens, leaving behind a trail of glitter and a dozen villagers sneezing uncontrollably.

Bhama decided that her life was colourful enough without celestial interventions. She opened a tea shop named Chaya with a Side of Heaven and became Kumbalam's most eligible bachelorette. As for Gandharvan, he became the poster boy for interdimensional travel mishaps, a tale every celestial rookie was warned about.

And thus, Bhama and Gandharvan proved that love may be universal, but it’s always better with a dash of humour and a good cup of tea.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Hourglass of Memory

The Case of the Missing Mustache

A Winter Night’s Love