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‘Serial killer’
 I met him for the first time on a cricket ground way back in 1982. He was an up-and-coming leg spinner, of the fastish type, tall and wiry, with a whippy action and plenty of enthusiasm. He was very successful at the school level, and represented South Zone Schools in all India competition, and later was considered good enough for
Tamil Nadu Under 22 and South Zone Universities, rubbing shoulders with at least three Test stars, Ravi Shastri, Mohammad Azharuddin and K Srikkanth.
Unfortunately, I rarely saw Baskar in action, though I had heard good things about his leg spin bowling, as his team Indian Overseas Bank did not give him too many opportunities in the local league. That did not prevent our getting on very well off the field even though he was many years my junior. The common ground between us was a sense of the absurd, which enabled us to laugh at most situations surrounding us, including our similar plights on the cricket ground, as I too was experiencing similar treatment in the evening of my career.
 Over the years, Baskar and I ran into each other regularly at venues like the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, Mylapore, and Narada Gana Sabha, on TTK Road. I was pretty much delighted that a young cricketer showed such a keen interest in music, though, I sometimes wonder if what attracted Baskar and his crazy friends — who were always in tow — more than the musical fare inside these auditoria was the delicious fare offered by Karpagambal Mess and Woodlands in their vicinity. Invariably, Baski, as everyone called him by now, and his mates, usually Prasad and Nani, literally killed me and my wife with some of the worst
kadi jokes invented since the beginning of mankind.
 Very soon Baski started spreading his net far and wide and became one of the most dangerous serial killers in Tamil Nadu, publishing his unending collection of jokes and puns in the Tamil weekly Ananda Vikatan. Somewhere along the way, he shaved his head and now presents a shiny bald pate to the world. With his tall athletic figure, and pleasant good looks, he now looks deceptively smart and elegant, completely camouflaging the deadly virus of zany humour he carries with him wherever he goes.
Meet Baski the jokester, Bosskey the stage actor, Giri of
Hari-Giri Assembly, Baskar the former leg spinner. Among Jaya TV viewers are many Hari-Giri addicts who will not go to bed without watching the antics of Bosskey and City Babu, in what is probably the longest running comedy show on Indian TV, having recently completed 750 daily shows.
As though making one appearance a day was not enough to drive TV audiences crazy, Bosskey, accompanied by Prasad—who spouted a strange mixture of the European khichdi language Esperanto and our own Manipravalam—and Nani, who played the role of villain by constantly berating the Indian cricket team, ran a daily live show entitled
Poova Talaiya during the last cricket World Cup in South Africa.
 As if all this were not enough to prove how multi-faceted he is, Bosskey, who has appeared as a model in a number of TV commercials, and written the script for stage plays, TV serials, and the comedy track of a Malayalam film, has also begun to act in the movies (all this on top of 13,000 jokes and 500 articles (!) for Ananda Vikatan and Junior Vikatan). His films include Youth, Dhool, and P C Sriram’s film in the making,
Vaanam Vasappadum. He has also signed up for an Indian film being made in English.
 I almost forgot to mention. Bosskey is occasionally seen at one of the offices of Indian Overseas Bank, where he is employed. His must be the happiest bank branch in this part of the world, for unlike some comedians who constantly wear a mournful expression in their personal lives, Baskar, the person, is as cheerful and amusing as Bosskey the actor or TV show presenter. Besides, he must be hugely popular with his victims on the Hari-Giri show, to judge by the number of these VIP guests flocking to his latest stage play
Oho, which is running to packed houses.
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