Fa-Dex

Dr. M. Sathya Prasad, 26 April 2021

It was around 1:00 PM. The day was pleasant and cool when my friend and I got into the suburban electric train in Chennai Central Railway Station. Our destination was Villivakkam. I was sitting next to the window. My friend was sitting right next to me. He was of shy type, introverted, and a man of few words. More like a saint. The train was not crowded and many seats were empty.

A few minutes after we took our seats there came in a couple of young ladies, probably in their late twenties – dark and with lots of face powder, each holding what looked like an attendance register, and a handbag. Neither they took notice of us, nor did we. These two young ladies sat right opposite us and started animatedly talking to each other in Chennai Tamil – loudly, unmindful of our presence. Although I was looking outside the window all the while, I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. I surmised that the two must be some primary school teachers in a local corporation school. I am not sure if my friend was also listening. His eyes were closed in torpor and languid tranquility. 

I am now presenting the more intriguing part of their conversation (translating and transliterating into English so that you would understand).

Lady 1: Today I was asked to be a substitute teacher for Class 2 A. Naughty Children.

Lady 2: Yes. Their class teacher Muniamma has gone on maternity leave. My class, 3 C, used to be right next to 2 A.

Lady 1: There was this one naughty boy who was uncontrollable.

Lady 2: You mean Selvan?

Lady 1: Yes.

Lady 2: You should have given him one whack on the Fa-Dex to make him behave properly.

Lady 1: Perhaps. Wonder where these days children are heading! No fear for teachers nowadays.

Lady 2: Yes. Yes. By the way, do you still cook those favorite pork chops of yours?

Lady 1: No. The doctor told me to reduce fat. I am putting weight on my Fa-Dex.

Lady 2: You should try walking. That melts fat inside the Fa-Dex.

Lady 1: How is your dizziness now?

Lady 2: Getting better. A nurse comes home every week and puts a B-Complex injection on my Fa-Dex.

Lady 1: That is good. I have to talk to our Head Mistress and change my chair. It is too small and my Fa-Dex gets stuck in it when I try getting up.

Lady 2: Ask for the new plastic chairs. Those are larger and more comfortable. The wooden ones are old and uncomfortable. I had the same problem and changed to a plastic chair.

…and so on.

My friend was quite withdrawn with no expression whatsoever on his face. His face was a proverbial poker. Stoic and wooden. Villivakkam station came and both of us alighted.

I: Did you hear the conversation? What was that Fa-Dex that was being constantly discussed all the way from little Selvan to melting fat to B-Complex to plastic chair? Is it a word in English, Tamil, or some other language? I have never heard of the term. Sounds like some courier company's name!

My friend: (very nonchalantly and with a cold stare) It is not Fa-Dex. It is the buttocks. They pronounced it as Fa-Dex.

I spontaneously broke into a spasmodic guffaw. 

I was thinking to myself, “This fellow had not only listened to the entire conversation but had also understood what Fa-Dex meant!” Wonder how he had controlled his laughter. 

I am not the kind who could control laughter and felt glad I didn’t know the meaning of Fa-Dex when on the train. Had I understood what it meant, I would have burst laughing and it could have been a social disaster. 

Ignorance is bliss!