Manish weds Sumedha

 “Only if my boss becomes compassionate enough to relieve me on time, can I relish the sinful dinner of my hostel mess”  Mess food is rarely palatable but Kirti Gupta was done with her odd working hours. Priyadarshini Working Women’s Hostel , Shahdara, was where Kirti shared a room with Simran from Chandigarh and Aparna from Jaipur.

“You must revolt Kirti. The mess is not going to remain open for you all night. Your boss should understand this. What are you earning for if you don’t  get to relish the watery dal and the bland, half cooked vegetable preparations and….” Simran wanted to cite some more examples when Kirti interrupted..

“ Listen, its 11 pm already. I am very hungry, stop before I hunt you down girl. Think of a plan.. food.. food .. Get me some please….pleaseeeeeeee..”  Poor Kirti had slogged all day long at her workplace. Aparna couldn’t  be a mute spectator any longer…

“Okay girls… I have a plan. There is a wedding taking place in the neighbouring ground. Lets go there and get some food…buhahahaha” It was a great idea but Kirti objected.

“ But we are not invited.. That’s not right. What if we get caught..  ?”

“Oh come on Kirti. Our wardrobe boasts of some very interesting and expensive collections. We will merge with the crowd easily. Lets get ready and you better move your butt now.. quick..” Simran, the ‘punjaban’ was an expert at attending weddings with or without an invitation. Confidence comes with experience, after all !

“ Yess ! I am so excited. Finally I get to wear this expensive ‘Anarkali suit’ that I purchased at a 50 per cent discount last week..” Aparna’s taste buds weren’t as excited, the idea of flaunting her new suit was more enticing.

“Okay.. I am never doing this again. God ! Please forgive me. I am not the sinner, my boss is !” Kirti finally gave in, since they didn’t have a choice.

Charlie’s angels  couldn’t be missed in their colourful, bright attires as they catwalked to the wedding venue. 

“Manish weds Sumedha” indicated the board at the entrance. But the girls were neither interested in Manish nor Sumedha. They walked towards the buffet and without a moments pause, started helping themselves with all the delicacies. Their plates were flooded but they wanted a little bit of everything, Kirti just couldn’t thank her stars enough.

“Okay… I think I am done… Hahaha..” Simran and Aparna were happy to see Kirti smiling.

“But.. what about the dessert ? Its already 12..”

“The ‘baraat’ hasn’t arrived as yet. So we are not going to get the dessert till the groom is here..” Simran knew it all but Kirti wasn’t too pleased with this fact.

“No, but I am not leaving without having the dessert. Come on , Manish is wedding Sumedha.. We need to have something sweet… “ The lass wasn’t scared anymore but Aparna and Simran were visibly stumped !

“Listen, we are done now.. We don’t know how long is this Manish idiot going to take ?” Aparna’s office cabbie arrived outside the hostel every morning sharp at 7am and she was now, worried.

“No.. I am going to have ‘Moong dal ka halwa’..not leaving before that… No No No No No..” Kirti was a stubborn two year old disguised as a 25 year old woman.

The other two girls had no other option but to wait for their beloved ‘Manish and party’ to arrive. They were as anxiously awaiting his sight  as Sumedha and family. Finally, the baraat arrived at 1am and the girls took a sigh of relief. After having the dessert to their hearts content, they decided to make a move.

Aparna and Simran had almost reached the exit gate when they found Kirti missing. They looked behind to find her speaking to the obese ground manager.

“ Sir, I must congratulate you.. Excellent DDA ground, I would also like to get married here..” Kirti was lying through her teeth.

“Thank you, sure… When is your wedding Madam ?” The ground manager was excited to see a pretty young girl entertaining him.

“Oh.. ummmm it is ummm later next year…”

“Wow ! Congratulations madam…”

“Thanks.. Ummm by the way, is there a wedding here, tomorrow as well ??”

The Art of Driving..

"You are in your mid 30’s, making a fortune every month, have a luxurious car standing in the garage.. yet prefer coming to work by taxis and cabs, even better, autorickshaws , every single day..?? Come On Siddharth”.

"That’s rude Rajeev.. Sid is a baby.. and our baby is scared to drive in the capital city.. Have you seen the traffic ? So many girls as well on the driving seat.. This is a serious matter.. One should be scared.. Right Sid..” added  Keshav.

“Shut up you both…” Siddharth Bajwa was constantly vexed  by his colleagues at work because he was scared of driving.  A car nut, Siddharth maintained his car very well but he could never imagine being on the driving seat himself. The idea of a driver handling his dream machine wasn’t appealing either. Daily arguments with the autorickshaw drivers had taken a toll on him. Cabs were expensive and  changing three metros to get to work was equally tiring.

As a boy of 19, Siddharth had once experimented with his father’s Maruti Van. Unfortunately, for the neighbours, their Ambassador along with the Maruti Van was later found at the mechanic’s workshop. The neighbours had to be compensated monetarily and the frequent flow of halwa, chana, rajma from the neighbourhood into the Bajwa family ceased thereafter.

Sid could never forget the abuses hurled at him from Senior Bajwa and the neighbours on that fateful day. He was deeply hurt and pledged that day , he would never dare drive a vehicle !

One fine day, Sid was struggling to fix the deal with the autorickshaw driver.

“Meter se chaloge ?? Nahin chaloge to complain kar doonga tumhari..” Sid was familiar with the tricks by now.

“Jao.. Jao.. Nahin jaoonga Meter se.. Complain kar do.. itna hai to khud gaadi chalao na..” The autorickshaw driver was gone but left Sid furious. Now the Autowala hadn’t spared him either.

Determined to undo the pledge, Sid ,now, decided to enroll himself in a driving school. Procuring a driving license has never been a problem as Delhi is the city of ‘jugaad’. With renewed confidence, Sid started his early morning driving lessons with ‘Driver Jagjeet’. Sid believed that his skills were improving with each passing day while Jagjeet knew the bare truth. With an extra accelerator, brake and clutch under his control, Jagjeet called the shots while Sid cheerfully played around with the steering wheel.

Finally, after two weeks of assiduous practice, the D day arrived. The happy bachelor offered his morning prayers after a long time and was ready to grace the driving seat of his unused , almost new, Swift Dzire. The guards in his apartment were also pleased at this sight but most of all, Sid wanted to seek revenge on his colleagues. This was his day.

He was stable on the wheels, confidently managed to bring the car out of his apartment, took a left turn , had barely travelled a km and there was a traffic signal. Sid, like an obedient citizen, stopped his car, was trying to set the radio frequency when he heard a BANG !! Lo Behold ! A truck had rammed into his car’s posterior very shamelessly. An accident at the ‘Red Light’ was even more shameful !

After a lot of chaos and drama in the middle of the road, Sid had to make a choice. Either he returns home with the battered car and heads to work in an auto or takes the battered car to work with oomph and pride !

Since then, its been a  year and Siddharth Bajwa continues to drive his Swift Dzire. His car looks like one returned from a war zone with scratches and dents all over, the side mirror was damaged last week by a bull that appeared from nowhere in the middle of the street.

Sid has overcome all fears and drives to work happily , also follows his favourite Radio Jockey  on the way because he has realized that the plight of his car will not be determined by his driving skills alone, it is largely determined by the fellow citizens and animals on the busy streets of Delhi !

My new friend...

Arnav Bhatia… Bright , intelligent and blithesome ! Simply observing Arnav is a treat for the eyes.

My neighbour, Arnav Bhatia, is a six year old fellow and the latest addition to my ‘Best Friends’ list ! We bump into each other in the mornings without fail when Arnav’s Dadu is escorting him to the bus stop and the early evenings when Arnav is leading a bunch of warriors in the society park while playing Cricket, Badminton, kho kho etc. .

The Bhatia family moved into their newly done apartment three months ago. When I first met Arnav, he smiled and without any reluctance, shook hands with me..

“So, which class are you in Mr Bhatia ?”

“1^st…” was his one word reply.

“Ok.. I am in the second”

Arnav grinned with the ‘I know it liar’ confidence..

“So which section ?”

“Ebony”.. Man of few words never went beyond ‘a few words’.

“Ok.. I am in Mango..”

Arnav laughed and this was the start of our friendship. We struck a deal. The next time we meet, he should remember my name and I will never forget his.

But the next time, we bumped into each other.. both of us went blank. I addressed him as ‘Junior Bhatia’ and he found solace in calling me ‘aunty’. ‘Aunty’ has never appealed to me enough and we took up the challenge yet again… Arnav would remember ‘Neeta’ and vice versa.

The next evening, I again saw Arnav in the society park but this time surrounded by six elegant ladies aged between 5 and10.

“Hi Arnav.. Where are all the boys…?” I asked

“Don’t know.. I will have to play with the girls today.. Huh”

But the girls weren’t complaining. They were happy in the company of this suave gentleman.

“Neeta didi.. you do one thing. Take this whistle. We will play ‘Hide and Seek’. Blow the whistle once when the seeker starts looking and after ten minutes again, when the game is over..”

“Ummmmmm”

And before I could react to this strange request cum order.. I found myself blowing the whistle and directing the play called ‘Hide and Seek’ that starred Arnav and the six ladies.

Success or not in seeking out the hidden participants didn’t matter to any of them. It was the joy of making the effort and laughing at the end of it all that mattered... whatever the outcome. No questions were asked and no answers given… the mere bliss of having played the game well was all they cared about.

Arnav and the ladies had taught me something very substantial by the end of that day. In the company of my new ‘Best Friend’ , I have realized that it is so easy to grin, laugh and be happy all the time !

that one admirer...

In our lives, each one of us has had that one admirer whose admiration... we were simply not interested in ! But this stubborn admirer refused to give up and relentlessly continued in his efforts to conquer this one sided  battle of love.

I too had one such innocent admirer who resides in my neighborhood. In order to protect his fan base, I would refer to him as the 'Silly Lad'. So 'Silly Lad' first met me at a wedding function in my housing society. A common friend introduced me to the innocent gentleman while another brainless friend passed on my mobile number, like any other toll free service, to Mr Silly Lad.

As expected, a series of  forwarded Santa-Banta jokes started flooding my message inbox apart from of course, the daily 'Good Morning', 'Good Afternoon', 'Good Night' messages. After enduring 'Silly Lad's' messaging spree for a while, I requested my brainless friend to step in with some counselling advice for my admirer. Finally, the messages stopped and I was beginning to believe that 'Silly Lad' had finally bumped into his 'Silly Lady' and they were living 'happily ever after.'

But, my joy was short lived. A week later there was a new message. 'Hey !! Were you at the petrol pump this morning ? Grey Swift ? Were you wearing a purple shirt ?'

I missed seeing him at the petrol pump and thanked my stars for the same. As far as the message was concerned, I chose to ignore but Silly Lad wasn't ready to give up so soon.

'Hey ! I know that was you.. Coffee ? Tomorrow ?'

I have always wondered about the trick 'coffee' plays in breaking the ice between two strangers ? Why not water or even better, Green Tea ? In any case, coffee with Silly Lad was not in my itinerary.

The next day, another message. 'You didn't reply.. I was waiting to enjoy a cuppa coffee with you. Today, I am very sad :(' while I now believed that Silly Lad was totally MAD !

Since then, I have been earnestly praying for Silly Lad's wisdom to manifest. Santa Banta jokes still arrive once in a while but I am clear about not wanting to have any intake of caffeine with this one admirer.. By the way, who is the 'Silly Lad' in your life ? :)

Ladies First!

When did you last travel by Delhi Metro ? Well, my journey from Noida to Tagore Garden happened this noon via the Metro, in the 'exculsive for ladies' coach. I am a lady too and a brave one at that, residing in the capital city and am extremely indebted to Dr E Shreedharan and Mr Mangoo Singh (please dont judge the gentleman by his name) , the residing MD of DMRC, for making this wise decision. Now, there are no wild eyes to make me conscious of what I am wearing or if my dupatta is in place etc...

But, Hey !! Thats not so. Checking out the beauties in the 'exclusive for ladies' coach of the Delhi Metro, will invariably make you feel conscious. After all, this coach is brimming with the cacaphony of college going chics whose sole mission in life is to stay updated with the latest fashion trends and they are bloody good at it! This noon, a gang of seven girls made a grand entry at the Rajeev Chowk station and each dudette was dressed to kill.. From the choicest of bags to accessories to their neatly manicured hands, they were the cynosure of all eyes..The men in the neighbouring coach could be seen drooling and cursing the directors , ex and present, of DMRC for this demarcation.

Just when I was trying to upgrade my fashion sense by observing the bright young girls, a tiny tot walked in with his mommy at the Patel Nagar metro station. He was visibly thrilled to see so many women around and the four year old Munna (as his mother addressed him) just couldnt stop jumping across the length and breadth of the ladies coach. The toddler's shoes had a lighting effect and he was too excited to flaunt this diwali gift. All the attention was now directed towards his antics and before we knew, we had a Sunny Leone act with Munna performing 'pole dance' exclusively for the ladies ! The men in our neighbourhood looked envious of the smart and dashing 'Munna'.

Alas, all good things come to an end.. The moti nagar metro station was here and Munna bid adieus to all the ladies. The equally entertaining chats with boyfriends resumed and while some were seen looking at their beloved mobile sets with a smile, some were also seething in anger in response to the masculine voice on the other side of the phone.

Just then, at the Rajouri Garden metro station, a gentleman was escorted by a constable into the ladies coach. I offered him my seat (Yes ! I had the great good fortune to grab one at Rajeev Chowk metro station). The middle aged gentleman was visually impaired and heard every announcement with great caution. He was also carrying along an audio aid. All eyes were now on him and his presence in the ladies coach was a reminder for each one of us of so many gifts of life, we should be grateful for.

We had reached Rajouri garden and next was my destination. In the last 45 minutes, I had updated myself about the latest fashion trends,  witnessed Munna's live 'pole dance' act, observed the various expressions' change during Wassapp and mobile phone conversations and ofcourse met somebody who taught me to be grateful in life !

Tagore Garden was finally here and with a smile , I alighted from the metro coach. Today is a good day !