Saturday, March 5, 2011

One plus One

These days when I walk into the canteen there are no empty chairs available. Every single one of them occupied by "pairs" or that's what they are called. Most of these things are so mean enough to be wasting time in public with an insignificant other but the highlight is the attitude they throw when you occupy a lonely chair opposite them wanting to enjoy your coffee in peace!

The look suggests that you are a missionary from anti-cupid hell sent to generate waves of disturbance aided by a cup of caffeine. The guy usually tries to be the man and gives you a nasty glare that supposedly has powers to shoo you off and protect his moment of privacy with his abashed temporary consort. This at times is hilarious because the guy himself would weigh nothing more than all the beans in my curry put together at meal time and even with only curd rice for regular lunch, I could take him at the snap of a finger.

The women come in all shades. From this annoying overconfident chatterbox I would've given a gold mine to shut up to the scared clueless ones. But most times they are the wily ones that lure an unassuming spoilt brat for a wasted break time conversation.

I wonder how many of these so called 'in a relationship' categories last. How many of them really know to understand the difference between a 'wow-ranbir-drops-towel-eeeeee' and a 'this could be my man'?. How many of them learn from mistakes and realize they are knee deep in one right now?

But its an interesting line up. There are ones that just sit and talk. Ones that just sit and smile at each other. Ones that just sit. A pair where the girl was showing off her new haircut and the guy was running his hands through it trying to make it stay put (Thats what they call Animal grooming on Discovery). Ones that study together ( Thats probably what Pierre and Madam Curie did) and ones that even fight over the canteen bill!

The funniest thing is that these "pairs" are so judgmental that they are blind to their own situation but jump at the first chance to turn a scornful eye at another around or predetermine the course of a relationship between two individuals that walk in as friends. Such is the plight that it has become increasingly hard to have a normal conversation with a member of the opposite sex without being perceived as a pair and triggering a whole string of jealous reaction from total strangers that supposedly wanted a shot.

There also remain I guess the genuine ones amongst the lot that are hard to spot. They keep a low profile and stay sincere. Nobody objects to a good pair if they live up to their commitments. As for me, I want to and I have the right to enjoy my good coffee in peace. So the next time one of these Casanovas throws me a dirty glance I get to choose from a drop down list:

* Reciprocate with extended viguour accumulated from years of consuming thachi mamm
* Respond with a 'Hey how is that girl you were with at the other canteen last week'? (most of them have a number of backups so this one would most definitely work)

or the good 'ol

* "What? Oh c'mon...get a room" (roll eyes...turn back to coffee...and act like nothing happened)

Buzz off

I received a message on my mobile this morning. It was yet another plea from this nobody that has been trying to get me to respond to his so called self perceived intelligent attempts at flooring me.

“Please call me. I am Indian air fors”

And I am assuming he expected me to turn back in slow motion and run towards him with a bgm of saare jahaan se accha echoing in the background like a Karan Johar-Kajol piece salute him and fix a date for the wedding. I have two things to say to you mister, no make that three – 1) you might be “air fors” but I am plainly not as stupid. 2) get a life 3) oh by the way…sign up for some English lessons.

Aside from the fact that the effort was totally pointless, I couldn’t help but wonder about how exactly jobless these romeos are and what exact thought process they go through when they decide to cyber disturb someone. This one has been spamming my inbox with forward messages in hindi that are supposedly on ‘pyar’ and ‘mohabbat’ and I am expected to swoon at them and fly without visa to Macchu Pichhu and do a Kilimanjaro! Given that my hindi graduation is at “ek gaaon meh ek kisan raghu thaatha” he could’ve confessed he is the Prime Minister and I wouldn’t have known! The only regret I have is that Sony Ericcson doesn’t provide a facility for blocking mobile numbers. My Spice handset is going “AHAH!” somewhere in the closet.

It is a fast moving and highly competitive world (at least that’s what I was told at one end of a high level reprimand session) and I guess the only explanation for these annoying spammers is a high degree of desperateness. Not to mention crass heroism in movies that offers “eve-teasing” as third degree effort at wooing a female. You never have to give a damn to what she considers a worthy match or least of all her privacy. Ok now before all of you jump at this line and go on to rip arteries over a gender bias let me add water to the chutney and dilute it so you wouldn’t know the taste. Women are desperate too and trust me ladies, men sometimes need to be left on their own (note to self: take slipper and hit on head twice).

Coming back to the issue, one thing I have observed is that none…and by that I mean “NONE” of these weirdoes have the slightest ounce of insight into the English language beyond peter. I have never received a properly worded message (include term ‘that makes sense and prevents Sam Anderson from looking like a Harvard English major) from these Xs and Ys inviting me to a healthy conversation.  I wonder what that means. ‘Wannabe  silver screen Rocket Rajas?’. You bet.

One thing  that’s bewildering in these individuals is the amount of time they have at their disposal to waste. Or if I could be brash – a Ph.D in Jobless loaferism. This and more of their misused shrewdness stands proven from the fact that this guy got my number off a record at a recharge outlet (note to self: listen to BFF when she says buy scratch cards). Not to mention other places where you fill out a form and give your number because duh they need it for sending across important information. Its not what happens though. Like for example the most important message this guy at the Dell outlet had to send across was a forward message on how guys always get duped into falling in love with girls (seriously man get a perspective…oh wait you only know Inglipis…that meant get a brain).

I have tried to and failed at finding a reason or logic behind these messages and overconfident overtures. I use the same word to describe these attempts as I do with bad advertisements – disgusting (women giving a constipated look and running after a loser just because he emptied a bottle of your’s truly’s perfume is just that – disgusting. What are you marketing? Prostitutes?)

 As funny as some of these ‘read-options-delete’ texts maybe ‘I am your neighbor’ does not qualify as a license to book a dream location. I also have a terminally psychotic case for a neighbor so you get the drift.
These fellows are also incredibly arrogant and try every trick in the book to get you to respond. From please to ‘apdi enna di onakku’ I have been at the receiving end for quite a number of these flings (once I get my voodoo diploma you know what I am going to do to you. Hint : ragged doll).

There is a golden rule however in reply to this balderdash – silence. Something my mother reminds me every time I deliver a monologue of carefully picked, choicest and the best of swears as I describe the cheapster that’s draining my mobile of charge with his calls and messages. Its very hard, believe me but that’s the only thing you can do if you don’t want to hear a word from him again (a year is the minimum period they give up after. Or a new wall to bang on. Whichever is earliest).  

This was just a steam out session so there is no “Fool’s guide on how not to be ridiculous trying to get a woman to talk to you” that I am going to offer but here are some things that might help :

1) Throw your mobile (or the one that you picked out of someone’s pocket in the bus and using right now to spam till the top up runs out) into the slush that runs (er… is stagnant) under the Basin Bridge.
2) Get a life
3) Get a job
4) Learn English (Not from Actor Jai. I meant real English…not towel come towel go)
5) Get a life
6) Get a job
7) Have some pride in your being...and dignity…and integrity (sighhhhhhh!)
8) Repeat steps 2 and 3. Go to 5 and 6

P.S  1 : thanks to TRAI and its new 100 msgs per day regulation! Allelujah!
P.S  2 : Before you go ahead and ask me how then would I like to be spoken to – "user busy with her life. call again next century"!

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