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Boy Meeting Girl - BMG 2

Click here for BMG1 (p.s. I learnt how to give links in blog... yayeeeeeee)

As I waited for his reply, I tried to relax a bit. I leaned back in the cushion and looked around. There were all types of people. An elderly couple was complaining to the waiter that the burger they serve does not look like the one in the menu card. A couple of college girls were laughing aloud and attracting the attention of few boys who were sipping blue colored mocktails. A young couple was sitting next to each other holding hands and probably talking about their future.

My lurking came to an end when my mobile started to buzz. It was from him. I cleared my throat and picked up the call.

“Hello”

There was total silence on the other end. When I helloed for the fourth time, I realized someone standing next to me. Thinking it was the waiter, I asked for five more minutes, and kept helloing.

“There is no one on the line”, he said with a smirk.

It was Keshav. He was carrying his office back-pack, probably his lappy.

“Hi. Did I make you to wait too long?” he asked as he settled in the seat next to me.

“No. I just came.”

“I called you to know where you were sitting. When I saw you, I cut the call.”

“Oh ok.”

“Since I am here, I think we can talk face-to-face. But, if you prefer to talk on phone, I don’t mind”, saying that he picked up his mobile.

Only then I realized that I was still holding my mobile in the helloing position.

“Oh. No. Sorry. It was just…”

“No no. Its ok. I was just kidding” he said smilingly.

I noticed that he had a dimple on his cheek. It wasn’t clear in his profile picture with his not-shaven look.

“Do you mind if we order first and then start talking? I am very hungry!” saying this he picked up the menu and started to graze.

I didn’t pick up the menu. I knew what I was going to order. ‘Ice Tea”. I usually go for ‘Dark Passion’ or ‘Brownie with Ice Cream’. But unfortunately, when they are in front, of me I totally forget about people around me and relish the delicacies. Today, I had other priorities. :)

It took him 10 minutes to decide what he wanted to have. Once we finished ordering, he was staring at me.

“What?”

“Just Ice Tea?” I sensed sarcasm in it. But I didn’t react.

“So naatlu evudaya?” (Where are you from Kerala?) There he goes. Time to start my broken Malayalam. When such situations arrives, I make sure to deliver one-word answers.

“Ottapalam”

“Acchan Trissur nu paranjalo” (Your Father said Trissur)

Oh o.

“Acchan Trissur aanu. Amma Ottapalam” (Father is from Trissur. Mother is from Ottapalam)

“Nattiloke puvarundo?” (Do you visit Kerala?)

This is a problem with all Malayalees. They want to know whether you visit your hometown ‘often’ if you are settled outside Kerala, because we are expected to miss the place. Me being born and brought up in Chennai, I have never missed Kerala. Actually I am really happy, that I didn’t settle there.

It’s not like I hate the place or anything. When I was a kid, I used to visit the place very ‘often’ as my grandmother was living there. I liked the calm surrounding. I enjoyed waking up listening to the slokas from the near by temple and to the smell of wet sand. My grandmom’s house was a huge, traditional one with padippura (front gate), poomukham (entrance), chuttu verandah (lobby), charupady (seats in the lobby), and ambal kulam (pond). Taking bath in that pond used to be one of my favorite pass-times (Since water in Chennai was so costly to be wasted!). I loved the temples, the backwaters, leisure walk in the paddy fields, evening times with my grandma while she read lines from ‘bhagavat geetha’ and so on.

But as I grew old, my likingness shifted focus. I became a city-bred spoiled brat and hence, the calmness and greenery was like ‘Whatever’ to me! It is still a nice place to relax, but besides that, I don’t see anything attractive about it anymore. To be honest, not even the guys in Kerala! (No offence intended).

“Epozhangilum” (Sometimes) I said, though the real answer is ‘hardly’.

“I visit Kerala often. Most of my relatives are settled there. So I end up there at least once a month” he said. Fortunately, the conversation started to flow in English.

For the next 20 minutes or so, he was talking about how his mother moved from Kerala and settled in Chennai after her marriage, his education background, how his father passed away suddenly in a cardiac arrest, about his job profile, his brother and his wife, kids in his neighborhood (!!), the dog that he feeds near his office everyday (!!!!!!!) so on and so forth.

I was trying my best not to yawn!! I almost felt like I time-traveled back to my college days, where my professor used to give lectures on the history of Mughal Empire and I used to draw caricatures in my notebook, in the pretext of taking notes, just to keep awake. I kept nodding my head and said ‘umm’ at regular intervals. If I had taken a pen and a paper, I would have ended up writing his biography titled ‘Keshav – A journey towards moksha’ or something like that.

“I think I am boring you with my story” he asked.

Finally someone realized it. But I have to act as a sweetheart (at least in the beginning) since I wanted to create some impression.

“No no. It is good to know about you and your family (and the dog you feed!!)” I said smilingly.

“So… tell me about yourself” he asked.

This part is something that I have practiced like zillion times. So it came quite naturally.

“I was born and brought up in Chennai. Did my PG in Madras University. I have worked here and there for sometime now and yet to find out what I really want as my career.” And I was done!

He stared at me for sometime, expecting me to continue. When I gave back a blank expression, sipping my tea, he realized that I was done.

“Hmm… Interesting… So have you had any boyfriends during your college days?” he asked chewing his bagel.

Now that was something I never expected.

'O_o'

Comments

  1. Besh Besh.... ponnu parkum sadangu laam nanna pogaradhu! Kalakurae DD :P ;)

    ReplyDelete
  2. athelam onnum illa varshaa... actualla onume illa.. :)

    ReplyDelete

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