Archive for the ‘The One with a Twist’ Category

Boy Meets Girl

Posted: October 29, 2011 in My Life, The One with a Twist

Yesterday, still on my vacation in Delhi I was sitting with three of my friends in Haldiram’s at Cannaught Place, eating my favourite Rasmalai, damn I just couldn’t resisit it, I know its fatty with bare minimum nutritious value, Still… :)

The place was almost empty, leave apart some guys-only groups and some random average looking couples. And there were these three people sitting next to us on a table… An Uncle, an Aunty and THE Girl… the parents were all tensed up and silent, and the girl was just texting someone non stop, no one uttered a single word. A few moments later few more people joined in… couple of Uncles, two more aunties and THE Boy, clad in a white shirt, not so handsome… just average boy next door… pleasantries exchanged… The girl had excused herself for the washroom just before this new lot of middle aged people walked in.
Both pair of parents were busy impressing the other. THE Boy was being interviewed in a civilized manner, education, hobbies, this and that… and then walked in in THE Girl… more pleasantries, THE Boy looked at THE girl, THE girl looked at THE boy, and there was this divine connection, speechless… faces turning Red, all middle aged hearts surrounding them were ready to give their blessings to the ‘to-be’ couple.
Now it was the Boy’s turn to do the Texting, nervously… spreading the good word to his friends..!!
Strangely, they didn’t look up at each other after that one ‘divine’ connection.
As per trend after 10-15 minutes the grown ups all stood up to go and place the order (its a self service restaurant) leaving the ‘potential’ couple in each other’s company…

The couple was left there smiling at each other, they talked a little bit, which unfortunately we weren’t able to hear (good for them :D ). Anyways the parents returned some 15 minutes later with the eatries, and we concentrated on our rasmalais too..!!

Once done, the Girl’s Dad asked the Boy “To beta kaisi lagi Leena tumnhe” [“So, Son how do you find our girl.. you like her?”]

Seriously what the heck was he expecting to hear back… even if he liked her he won’t say on face, well at least thats what they show in movies :D , well I must say the Boy was indeed smart he elbowed his mum with a grim face, gazes exchanged, and luckily the Auntyji got it… “Guptaji hume to sab accha laga, baki ghar par thoda discuss karke aapko batate hain” [“Well Sir we liked your family and your daughter, we just need to go home and discuss and we’ll let you know”]
Sharp mommy I must say… similar thing happened with my elder brother’s friend once, the girl happened to be a bit healthy (read 75 kgs) compared to his lean structure (65 approx), and unluckily his mum got the elbow all wrong, thinking it a nod of approval, congratulating the girl’s parents instantly, what happened in the following days deserves a separate blog post for itself.

Anyways coming back to our Boy and Girl, the Girl’s dad insisted to pay the Bill and they left again with some more pleasantries..

Once they were gone the uncles and aunties surrounded the Boy, all with close-up smiles

“Beta kaisi lagi ladki, tumhari mummy ko aur mujhe to badi pasand aayi” [“So how was the Girl,, me and your mum find her really lovely”]

“Family bhi acchi hai” [“Even the Girl’s family is good too”] the mother added adjusting her specs.
And the Boy was smiling now, shaking his head

“Beta sharmao mat bolo bhi” [“Don’t feel shy, come on say it”] Added the Uncleji accompanying the family.

All the eyes were on the BOY… even the few people sitting nearby were looking eagerly.

“Papa aap vo mere dost ko jante ho… Sahil” [“Hey Dad, have you met that friend of mine… the guy named Sahil”]

“Haan vahi garments shop wale Gupta ji ka ladka” [“Yeah the one who’s dad owns a Garments Store”]
“Haan vahi, ye Leena usi Sahil ki Girl friend hai, ladki dekhne jane se pehle kam se kam photo to manga liya karo”
[ “yeah the same one, this Girl is the same guy’s Girlfriend, At least do ask for the Girl’s picture before arranging a meeting next time” ]

And the four of us burst into a fit of Laughter, the Boy stared us for a moment, winked and then started grinning himself… the parents were all staring.. open mouthed..!!

P.S. Strange coincidences do occur in life..!!
P.P.S. If you are a parent with a son/daughter eligible for marriage, please don’t arrange to meet up at crowded public places, you might end up being the subject of some whimsical blogger like me.. :D
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I went to a disc the other week with some friends of mine. Apart from one of my flatmates no one else in my friend circle love to dance, we just frequent the discs in Hyderabad, have a little booze, and chatter a little… nothing more, So we were in this disc called ‘kismet’ one of the discs in ‘The Park’ and the floor was pretty much crowded. I sat down with one of the girls who accompanied us, and we were looking at the crowd dancing away to glory, careless and energetic… seriously, out of all the places in Hyderabad, I like the crowd in ‘Kismet’ the most.

And then this girl sitting next to me pointed them out to me (funny till that time I didn’t even knew her name, came with another common friend)…
And we saw them – or more specifically, him.

He was dancing as the music wanted him to dance. His moves were smooth and fluid, and he moved as if he is a fish in water. He was tall, well built, and he folded his long legs effortlessly so that he is in level with her… He was Perfect, well I’m not gay… but I guess I have a birthright to appreciate guys, without being mocked as a Gay…  don’t I ?

And now coming to his companion, she definitely had taken her time to dress up for him, in a subtle way. But she was not up to him,visibly hesitant to dance, to match his steps. She was slightly plump, reminded me of Mexican wrap or a warm Kathi Roll (warm chicken would’ve been a better comparison.. but I’m vegetarian so you have to bear with Kathi Roll only.. :P), while he was more like a rainstorm brewing in the mountains (I’m good at poetic comparison too, damn who asked me to became an engineer..!!)

And then, there was HER (read – the poison ivy). The one who looked like a panther out for a kill, with a body, attitude and steps to match. She surveyed the dance floor, took one look at the couple, decided that the man was hers, and set on to stake her claim.

On that dance floor, it was so easy to flirt with another person even if you were dancing with your date.

Me & my friend (though in true terms we were acquaintances till that time, and I guess we still are) sympathized with the girl, what chance did she have with this predator on the prowl?

The Poison Ivy started dancing, slowly, sensuously – like a beautiful coral snake slowly slithering. Half the men in the dance floor (the ones that could see her albeit peripherally) slowed down, were distracted, and some even stopped their dancing to stare at her. And I was honestly blown away by her moves.

But not him. He was focused on his partner, coaxing her, cajoling her, to loosen up, to forget making mistakes in her steps or stepping on his feet. He was dancing, and he was dancing only for her.

Or so we thought. The predator moved slowly towards him, slithering up and slowly starting to wound herself around him. All this done beautifully, discreetly.

He, without a break in the rhythm, stepped around such that his girl was the one who was dancing against her. The put down, was blatant, and it hurt the predator. “WTF!!” she slowly mouthed to her minions who were sitting there, shocked that a common man had dared to turn her down. And that’s too for a Simpleton…

The predator, was up for the challenge. She and her minions started dancing, and they somehow made a semi circle around the girl, who was oblivious to all this and was trying to get her steps right. They started crowding her as if she did not even exist, and a well timed push sent her reeling to edge of the dance floor, to the hard pews where we onlookers were watching in fascination.
We felt bad for her. The fact that she was a clumsy dancer at best was established beyond point with that push. When she was being pushed to anonymity, the predator was dancing in front of him, like a bright black flame of all thing luscious and forbidden. She had the best body, the best dress and the best face in that room. She could dance with him, dance like him.

And he danced maybe half a step, and went to the pews with his girl, timing his step to her missteps such that it all looked like a wonderfully choreographed return to the seats than the mortified return it was supposed to be. Like she was a queen and he was her harem boy. He danced around her, and wrapped her up in a tight embrace at the end of it.

And he did this all, while he was looking into her eyes and setting steps to music.

And no, she did not know what happened. For her, it was nothing more than a night out dancing brought to end by a suddenly overcrowded dance floor.

My other friends who were with us by this time, and are aware of all the happenings on the dance floor (we all have ears and eyes for gossip, and such incidents are not to be missed), who always wanted me to give them an example of how one should love, and here it is guys and gals…
He did not make her realize what he was doing for her – not by word, or deed, or even a momentary glance at her adversary, He was there only for her.

And that night, I believed again in the magic of love…

8 years ago. It was the living room of a quiet house in New Delhi, India. Seated there, at the edge of their seats, were three young guys (class 11th students) in their teens. The tension in the room was palpable. Their eyes were glued to the TV. As an outside observer, I know the reader has questions. What is so gripping about the old-fashioned girl-on-girl porn they are watching? Are these teens anxious to find out whether the older girl is able to properly teach the younger girl how to satisfy her boyfriend?
It was the commoner’s first encounter to the term “PORN’, being an IIT aspirant that time, he was curious enough to accept the Indecent Proposal of group study that night, and the Geniuses being Geniuses after all, were familiar even with the ‘cast name’ and the ‘production house’.

Interrupting the enchanting pop sound-track of the movie, spoke Genius_1, “Do you think we will be able to finish the movie before your parents return?” Genius_2 chimed in, “Yeah, I guess we should fast forward a bit?”

Commoner pointed to the women on TV, who, by that time, were moaning at a pitch attainable only by Vampire bats, and said, “The movie can’t be much longer. It’s only 8:50. Your Mom and dad wont’ be back before 9.30 We will have enough time to finish the movie and create a scene of day long studies before they arrive.”

Noticing the discomfort on their faces, Genius_2 explained his master plan. “Listen, If I hear them at the main door, I will run and intercept them. I will buy you enough time to retrieve the CD out of the VCD player and hide it in my room. It’s as simple as that.” Reassured they went back to watching the tangle of limbs on the screen and trying to figure out whose hand is doing what to which body part.

The reassurance lasted for about 5 minutes until the TV screen went blank. As darkness descended in the room, their hearts stopped with the realization that the power just went out. “Holy shit!” shouted one of them, “How the hell are we going to get the CD out of the VCD Player?” Another guy chose a stronger swear word, more appropriate for the occasion, and proceeded to repeat it with different stress each time. “Fuck fuck fuck…” Out of this chaos boomed the nonchalant voice of Commoner, “Guys let’s not panic. We are Smart aspiring Engineers. We can take the VCD player apart in 2 minutes and get the CD out.”

At any other time Genius_1 and Genius_2 would have sat Commoner down and discussed:
1. How wrong he was when he said “we are aspiring engineers” when there is no hope of their clearing IIT JEE (though they all did eventually :))
2. How opening up VCD Player is not remotely connected to JEE preparation.
3. How they would love to kick Commoner in the nuts for not panicking. But they didn’t,because opening the VCD Player was the best idea at that time (afterall he’s commoner relative to them only :P)

With impressive speed the VCD Player was opened. It didn’t take them too long to figure out that VCD players are not like candy boxes which you open and grab whatever you want from them. In fact, the “Star Whores Episode IV” was locked in some intricate mechanism which was difficult to study in the candlelight. At which point Genius_1 asked, “Guys, don’t you think it would look more suspicious if we are caught with an open VCD Player? How would we explain it?” With this new insight into the situation the it was assembled back.

After half an hour, the power did not come back but the parents did. The three teens nervously wandered around the living room hoping the power would be restored before the living room was locked from inside for the night. The power was restored soon after but with one glitch. Genius_2’s mom was immediately heard saying, “Oh good the power’s back. Let me turn off the TV so we can go bed.” Genius_2 sprang to action shouting, “Mom can I talk to you privately in the kitchen?”

It is inconsequential what irrelevant matter Genius_3 discussed in the kitchen or the fact that his mom was heard saying, “OK, but why do we have to talk about it now?”. Nevertheless the video tape was transferred to safety before the discussion ended.

Different people react differently to the same situation.

Genius_1 (currently pursuing his Phd in Human-Computer Interface at Stanford) didn’t stop trembling for a week.
Genius_2 (System Architect for Apple, Cupertino, California) asked later that night, “Those girls were amazing. Do you think we can manage to see it again tomorrow?”
The Commoner just blogged about it 8 years later.

Its been almost an year in Hyderabad, and I just witnessed my first discriminatory conversation last week. Though it was a funny chit chatter between friends over lunch but still…
The scene consists of me and few of my friends (Nick, Anna (as we fondly call him), megha, rashmi and avanthi) from office sitting in Taj Banjara, waiting for our lunch to be served and like the normal days we were in argument.. (gosh some people can’t keep company even for 5 minutes without a debate :()

Anna: You Northies …

I interrupted him, raising a stern hand, but Nick cut me short

Nick: (articulating ev.ery syl·la·ble)  I am not a N..o..r..t..h..i..e

Anna: Of course you are

Nick: I am from Nagpur, for God’s sake..

Anna: My point exactly. You are a Northie

Nick: How does that make me a Northie?

Anna: Are you from Andhra, Tamil Nadu, Kerala or Karnataka?

Nick: No..!!

Anna: Therefore you are a Northie. Anybody who is not from the southern 4 states is a Northie. Do I have to make it any clearer?

Nick: That’s a demented logic, you are a moron

Anna: What is wrong with you Northies? A guy from Nagpur claims he is not a Northie. A guy from Bombay is not a Northie. The guy from Delhi is not a Northie nor is the guy from Kolkata. Let me state it for the record, you are all Northies.

Nick: Whatever… North is relative anyway

Anna: That is what every run-of-the-mill wimp says when he knew he completely and miserably lost the argument..

Somehow heroically I came to Nick’s rescue, with the intention of cooling down Anna I started…

Me:  “whatever,” Madrasi..don’t you..

Before I could finish myself, Anna lunged at me in rage, hold my collar and pulled me towards him, his eyes are a foot from mine, his face contorted with anger. (his eyes were saying – didn’t you see any South movies? look what can I do to you)

He mumbled something in a hoarse voice, his spit splattering on his face… lips trembling and said:
” Don’t… ever… call me… a Madrasi. I am from Andhra “

And we all were dumbstruck, with our mouth open..!!

I think it’s about time for me to make fun of people again for the reasons where they tend to be smart and end up looking like a fool. I kinda love it sometimes.

I do experiment a lot, from my drinks to books i read to the places i eat at. And this time its this stupid  jungle they call Online Dating. Here are a few of my latest emails received. Oh how I love seeing the English language being slaughtered. Le Sigh..
(on a serious note – don’t you people dare judge mine, i just torture it in return of the hundred years of being in shackles of British empire, else i’m too good at it). Well coming back to the Dating mails..

mademoiselle #1: you seem nice get back if your interested.

A quick glance at her profile reveals that she’s some US based 29 something “women” and as a career she wrote: “I work about 60 hours about in Software. i’m happy with my life”. That’s all she says and the only answer to the typical “About Me” stuff she gave was her salary.

First of all I’d like to know how I seem nice when you’ve never spoken to me. You can’t really judge niceness based on a written profile, especially not one that’s to the point and cynical, like mine is. That would be like me telling her that she seems loud. Which she does, what with all the yelling and such.

Also what the hell does “about 60 hours about in Software” mean? You work close to 60 hours kind of with something resembling Software? You work 60 hours a week? A month? A pay-period? Who the hell cares how many hours you work I’m not “interested”.

NEXT!

mademoiselle #2: do u have a Facebook account? gmail at least ?

While I’m at it, can I just give you my address? We haven’t exchanged 5 words and you want me to give you all my online social accounts? What kind of person sees this message and thinks; “gosh he/she sure did put in a lot of effort to obtain a personal bit of information from me, I should definitely give him/her a chance.”

So, giving her a chance, I looked at her profile and find these tantalizing tidbits: I am sexxy, energetic, and easy going. I am 22 female 5’4 and looking for friends and more. i am adventurous and always looking to try new things.

Good thing you’re sexxy and not just sexy because I never date girls who are “only one x” sexy.

Moving on!

mademoiselle #3: HI! I am nice good looking indian girl based in Bangalore who is looking for some fun.

If you’re so good-looking why don’t you have a picture up? Also, telling a normal guy you’re looking for some fun = telling that you are a whore who just want to talk. Or something along those lines. or else maybe you are experimenting it just like me.
My backwards analogies always make sense in my mind.

On the positive side of life, I met a very nice, good-looking, sexxy girl at a friend’s party last month. We hung out all night, dancing and chatting. Unfortunately at the end of the night a stupid friend of mine got into a fight (How old are we boys?) with some other guy and I was dragged out of the party by bouncers before getting the chance to exchange numbers with my pretty companion of the night.

May be I should have left a shoe like Cinderella… Well guys can have their share of fantasies too..!!