So Saman really wants me to write about my trip to the city of dreams, mostly because I promised her that I would write about her, but she insists that she just wants to know of my (mis) adventures out there!
It all began with a four year intensive course called Chemical Engineering. I needed a solid respite from the intense schedule of those days and Mumbai seemed to beckon.
Since India is considered relatively unsafe for the fairer sex, my Parents thought it best that I accompany a relative who was heading there as well.
But A septuagenarian man who tends to ramble about his trekking escapades isn’t my idea of an amicable companion, especially when I’ve memorized them all. But I’ve learned the hard way that a known devil is better than an unknown angel and I got adept at tuning myself out. (There was a day when even big headphones refused to stop his narration. But I was in desperation and could only nod at the stupidity that we displayed.)
The train journey was quite ordinary. The monsoon was delayed and the much awaited green scenery of Khandala and Lonavala were quite bleak and dry. I didn’t get to taste the groundnut chikki or the jelly like sweet that’s famous around there.
I reached Pune around 11, after an hour’s delay of waiting for the signal at the platform. Well I’m not good with faces so I wasn’t sure if I’d recognize her in real from the Pinkety Pop Lipashtick wala photo on Whatsapp. But there goes-I could almost see the invisible bunny ears pop out of her head when out eyes met.
Saman-The Baman……. (The Boman Irani ?? Don’t roll it so much to get the o, just the ah ).
Approximately 10 years ago.
I see a scrawny kid get onto the bus. She’s got two ponies and a twinkle in her eyes and I can see that she wants to talk. Hello’s are exchanged and then we relapse into a comfortable silence. Only, silence is probably her worst enemy! So then the entire bus gets to know her and we all mistake her name to be the dry season which many dread. Some even ask her where’s winter! I bet she has some similarities to summer though, she can be so annoying and blah at times!
But I’m supposed to be a sweetheart here and sing praises, not mention that her dupatta was never in place and the bus games we played could not have been stupider than Bollywood. We spoke a lot in the afternoon, on the way home and her imagination always added to the drama.
And now as I saw her, I couldn’t but help marvel at the comparison.
Saman-The Baman can astonish. And how!
She had an immaculately made hijab, which she managed to adjust at least a hundred times in the ten minutes that we chatted. She had mellowed down on the lipashtick but then she spoke of using ‘ice cubes in the lift’ to get her face to stop sleeping. I went all out to screech WHaaat?! ( Don’t you think she has the hots for me? )
Anyway, that’s us.
I cannot compete with ice cubes, no way. That was at least 18 hours in the train!
I’ve got to add now that I just love the way she talks! There’s the slightest tinge of Urdu in her pleasant voice and she makes these ridiculous suggestions that makes you so confused. Laugh or Cry?! And Since I’m washing dirty linen in public, I must warn the erm.. the wise that she might have slight stalker tendencies. Especially the online kind. Quite harmless though, Mind you.
Clothes, Politics, Guys, and the quest for a utopian nation. This is something we discuss best these days. Besides entertaining each other once in a blue moon. It’s funny we find it easier to not keep in constant touch. Makes it all the more interesting when we do converse to share ideas.
So Saman (My Baman), You’re gonna be in college again! Here’s to More interesting gossip coming my way, thank God!
And Here’s to you! And the packet of snickers (Oh yeah, she definitely likes me :D)
My friendship may be in danger over controversial aspects of this post but who cares, she’ll come around after seeing how much you’ve enjoyed getting to know her!