Chunky Panday is the ultimate cool desi dad

I’ve often been told that I have the soul of an Indian uncle, despite being a 32-year-old woman. I get it. I too sometimes walk with my hands behind my back, get grumpy if I don’t have an evening coffee/chai-biscuit session, and would hold a grudge against a neighbour’s child if they were stealing fruits from my garden. I am the crotchety uncle who hates loud music past 7pm and would call in a noise complaint. But the uncle in me has a new role model, Chunky Panday.

He’s the quintessential desi dad who at every family gathering is somehow always in the best mood, wearing his most relaxed smile, and insisting you get on the dance floor, even though you just ate a massive meal. The one who doesn’t hog the spotlight but shines it on everyone else. The man who will make you do a thumka without you realising that you’ve just done a thumka. Chunky Panday is the kind of hype uncle who ensures that everybody has fun, whether they want to or not.

Imagine waking up at 9am to find Chunky Panday zipping around the house like a human Tasmanian devil. There’s no snooze button on this guy’s internal alarm clock, and he’s not the kind who’d roll over and hit it anyway. He’s out of bed like a rocket, ready to conquer the day, or as he says, “Every morning I feel that I haven’t done anything. I have to achieve something today.” And, of course, that includes walking around turning off lights, fans and ACs like every desi dad while grumbling at his kids.

As he dashes around like a kid on a sugar high, his wife Bhavana gets a front-row seat to this morning madness: “She gets so irritated, like, ‘What’s wrong with him?’” he tells Tweak in our latest edition of Morning Chai.

Forget poha, chai, or even Bollywood’s beloved warm water with lemon. Chunky Panday’s morning ritual begins with “two Kashmiri garlics”. Is it two cloves of garlic? Two whole garlic heads? Who knows, both are too much, but trust a desi dad to find a hack to improve heart health while traumatising everyone else with garlic breath all morning.

His biggest strength? He doesn’t take himself too seriously. He calls himself a “real-life villain, just ask Bhavana,” but believes in channelling that devilish energy into his on-screen characters rather than real-life drama. “There’s a devil in all of us. Better to let it out on screen than on people,” he says.

His philosophy kind of flips when extended to his money-saving hacks, though —“Spend other people’s money, not your own.” In true fun-uncle fashion, he can dish out a life hack and make you laugh at the same time.

So if I really am an old Indian uncle, I want it to be Chunky Panday. He is unapologetically himself. A guy who can laugh at his own failed jogging plans (he bought expensive shoes, then sold them on OLX) and whose vividly-coloured wardrobe is as fun as his personality. Maybe I could start there — a little colour in my primarily all-black wardrobe could lighten things up for me too. However, I draw the line at Aakhri Pasta-esque pairing of bold and bright colours with floral prints. That might be something that only the real deal can pull off (along with the handlebar moustache).