Sukkad Bombil

Last night we went to this little place called "Quench" in Bandra for a drink. Aside from the fact that I was over-dressed and chose the wrong wine, I enjoyed myself. We were meeting this couple friends of ours who had moved to Singapore about a year ago. We were surprised to see how much weight they had lost. They blamed it on the fact that they didn't own a car anymore and walked or used public transport all the time. The guy had always been slim, but the girl was suitably curvy earlier, but now she was thin. She claimed that she was depressed the first few months of being in Singapore because she felt really big compared to all the women there. Apparently girls there dress skimpily even to work. They wear dresses or skirts that are so short that the slightest of movements could reveal their panties. But somehow it doesn't look so bad coz they are all really petite.
I wonder if our friends lost weight by association. They claim that they never exercised or dieted but still steadily lost weight. It's possible that sub-consciously they aspired to be thin because everyone around them was.
My friend says that she has stopped wearing shirts and trousers because at work women look at her strangely as if she is a lesbian or a woman wanting to be a man. The women are so obsessed with their skin that they are always applying sunscreen and fairness creams and eating foods that taste disgusting but are good for the skin (chicken feet come highly recommended). Dresses mostly come in size "Small" and you would be hard pressed to find a nice looking one in "Medium". For a country that has a higher female population, I find it rather regressive. A person is judged purely on looks. Now, this is my opinion purely based on what my friend tells me and I will find out the truth only if I live there long enough to experience it myself.
Speaking about appearances, my friend Jenny speaks about the same thing in her post "Girls night out" on her blog. Don't we all long to be young and thin again. I know I do. I wonder if my mom's generation or my grandmom's generation thinks that way too. When did we change?

Mujhse Fraandship Karo

Being friends in today's day and age means patiently tolerating endless vacation photos and updates(occasionally being asked to eat your liver too), driving the person home when he/she is drunkenly singing in the back seat, cooking up a delicious meal only for the person to inform you that he/she hates chicken/mutton/bhindi or is on a diet, being sworn enemies in your childhood and the dearest of friends when adults.... and much more. I love you all my dear, crazy bunch of friends :)

Leaving on a Jet Plane

When I was younger I was fascinated by men in uniform and if the uniform is of a fighter pilot nothing like it. Of course I never met any fighter pilots in my sleepy little one-horse town, but who's to stop a little girl from dreaming? Some of my male friends have admitted to wanting to grow up and become a fighter pilot (without going through the stressful training involved of course). I knew only one girl who wanted to become one... gender bias exists when we dream too. I'm sure a lot of young girls are smitten by a guy in uniform... the funniest representation of this is shown in the series "30 Rock" where Tina Fey's character 'Liz Lemon' always fantasises being married to Astronaut Mike Dexter who is always roaming about in his astronaut's uniform.

Now, finally Chrys and I have a friend who is a genuine fighter pilot in the Indian Navy (yeah, Navy also has airplanes). Yesterday, we were out for dinner and this (much married) fighter pilot friend of ours was joking that he had a good view. Since we were sitting at a restaurant at the seaside we thought he meant the sea-view. It turned out he meant the view of a table across where four young girls were sitting and chatting away animatedly. Maybe because all of us turned and openly stared at those girls or maybe they didn't really like the table... whatever the case, they shifted their seats to a different part of the restaurant. Our friend was disappointed. I told him that he should have gone up to them and told them that he was a fighter pilot. That could have made them change places and seat themselves back where our fighter pilot could get a good view. Then again, maybe not. He was not in uniform you see.

Last night we had dinner at this roof-top restaurant called Koyla in Colaba. This place is so discreet that it had no boards advertising it at the entrance and from the road you would definitely miss it. Thanks to our friend's directions we reached there after hunting around a bit. All the tables were occupied and the attendants had an attitude that reminded me of the New York pub scene that I have seen in movies. Finally when we were on the verge of leaving we were given a table. The place has a lovely ambience - sand covered floor, little tent like structures with cosy bamboo furniture inside, soothing music and candle lit tables. We had a great time.

I was in a talkative mood and I went on and on about the several people who had been infatuated with me. Now, I am no beauty or Miss World, but in my younger days I always attracted people. They either really really hated me or loved me, but just couldn't ignore the loud, sometimes obnoxious me. One story stands out because of it's unusual twists and turns.

At the age of 18 I started working at a computer training institute. On the first day I was introduced to everybody and was told that the Marketing Manager of the company was out and I could meet him in the evening. They kept raving about how smart, intelligent, funny and good looking he was that I was not surprised when I saw this tall, dark, handsome and curly haired young man walk in the door in the evening. I was introduced, he said hello and walked into his cabin and shut the door. Then later in the evening, he called me to his cabin and asked, "Do you know me?". I said, "Of course, you are the Marketing Manager of this company". "No", he said, "Do you know me before this?". I was confused and I said that I had never seen him in my life before. I had just completed my twelfth standard and I was studying for a Diploma in another college. He said that he had been a student of the same college where I completed my twelfth standard. He also said that he had been really popular and had won the personality contest there. Obviously I wasn't part of the group that revered this guy enough for him to think that he was God and so I continued to show my ignorance of the fact that God was walking this earth in the form of this pompous dude.

That was the first and last time I spoke to this fellow in my one and half year tenure in that organisation. After that day he ignored me and I saw through him. Then, one day he announced that he had been selected into the Air-Force and that he was leaving for the two year training course. He gave out his address to everyone and asked them to write to him (those days email wasn't so popular). On reaching there he sent a letter addressed to the entire team and everyone decided to write him one long letter with little notes from the entire team. I was forced to write something too and I wrote something funny and left it at that. A couple of weeks later a letter arrived at the office addressed only to me. Mr. Dude liked what I wrote and wanted to correspond with me further and asked for my residential address. Since his letter was funny and since I had nothing better to do, I wrote back with my address.

And so began a two year pen-friendship. Our letters were funny, light, much anticipated and a great way to communicate without any promise of a commitment or any ulterior motives. Meanwhile, some people in the organisation also informed me that Mr. Dude had been my admirer from college. He was in his final year and I was in the eleventh. However our classrooms were the same. When his class ended, ours started. Usually I would arrive a little early and wait outside the class for the professor to leave. As soon as the bell rang, I would rush in without waiting for the class to empty out and put my books on the last bench (my favourite). Apparently Mr.Dude sat at the very same bench and saw me everyday (I never ever noticed him). He would scribble some messages for me on the desk which I always thought were for my partner (a green eyed little pip-squeak). So, that explained the "Do-you-know-me" on the first day. Eventually after corresponding for two years, we met. We had great expectations for the meeting since now we had become friends (although we never spoke - not even on the phone).

The meeting was a disaster. I couldn't talk at all and this fellow kept talking about how well he did at the training and how he was the almighty's gift to humans. Although we were together for about 2-3 hours, I hardly spoke and was extremely bored. We broke communication after that and for a long time there was no news of him.

Then one day he called up and asked me my email ID. The communication lines were open again. We wrote to each other - although not that frequently. Then one day I received a very malicious mail from his ID written by some girl who knew the both of us. Apparently he had been going around with her and had cheated on her with some other girl in Hyderabad and some nonsense. I couldn't understand where I figured in all this mess and I told the both of them to resolve their differences with each other and not drag me into it. I stopped writing again. A few weeks after this incident I received a call from him at home. I picked up and before he could say anything I told him that I was not in a state to talk since my father had just expired that day. People were making preparations for the funeral all around and that was the day he called.

A couple of years later I received an email from him again. He had seen me at a railway station. He wrote that I had changed a lot - had started wearing "tank tops" - and he found me very attractive. He said that when we were "seeing" each other, I had been a plain jane. I was shocked at this mail. I gave him a fitting reply and blasted him for believing that I was ever "seeing" him. Plus I was NEVER plain jane. He called up to apologise. I was so angry that I ordered him never ever to call me again.

Life has moved on and Mr. Dude has contacted me again through one of the networking sites. He is married and has a kid now. I don't see any harm in adding him to my friends list, but am still apprehensive of what unexpected things might happen now.

Cheap Hang-outs

Once upon a time I knew a guy called Chadda. The first time I saw him, he was outfitted in a rather ill-fitting jeans, white shirt and a bright red tie. The tie looked like something he wore to school not so long ago. "I wore this tie to school not so long ago", he said. He was 17, tallish but not quite, stoutish but not quite - overall seemed like the kind who had a lot of growing up to do but didn't know into which direction. I was 20 and all grown up (or so I thought). Initially I didn't know his name, but guessed that he was from the prosperous hinterlands of Punjab and I was right.

We were at some sort of boring IT convention which was to run into several days. We were supposed to choose course-buddies and Chadda and I almost simultaneously sought each other out. (My reason is that he was the only remotely good looking bloke around - plus I had this weirdly odd and oddly weird affinity to Punjab). He later said that he chose me coz he liked the Daku-style bindi on my forehead. I don't remember much of the convention, except that we had a lot of fun during the breaks over endless cups of tea and biscuits. That's what conventions are all about... tea and biscuits. From the time we were paired up, we were teased that we were a couple, that we knew each other beforehand and we pretended not to, etc. We used to laugh and joke about this during the tea breaks. Over the course of the convention the joke got a bit too much and I couldn't see the humour in it anymore. So I told everyone (including the guy who was conducting the convention) to back off. Finally the convention ended, we exchanged emails and numbers and that was the end of the friendship... or so I thought.

Those days I used to conduct lectures at an institute in the university campus. One day as I was walking out of the campus I bumped into Chadda waiting patiently for me at the bus-stop. Apparently he had been there since several hours in the hope of spotting me. Why didn't he just call - those were not the time of cell-phones and I guess my landline was out of order - as was the norm during the monsoon. We chatted and caught up. The kid was obviously infatuated and bristled when I pointed it out to him. I told him he would grow out of it. He sulked a while and then brightened up. His 18th birthday was coming up. He invited me to visit his house that day. He stayed in Virar with his mom, while I stayed at Kalyan - a good 2.5 hour journey away. Although I agreed, I didn't really plan to go.

However, I found myself taking an early morning train to Dadar and onwards to Virar on his birthday. He had invited a few other friends and we chatted away while he plied us with samosas and sweets. His mom was out to the market and was expected shortly. I had given him a card that said "It's great hanging out with you. Happy Birthday" and it had a picture of a few shirts drying on a clothesline. I thought it was quite funny. As soon as his mom arrived, he showed her the gifts, including the card I gave. That is when the fireworks happened. He was called into the kitchen and given an earful for inviting a "cheap" girl home, etc. I didn't wait to hear the end of it and walked out. That was the end of our friendship. Sigh!