Anti-Climax in a Bookstore

Ahmedabad lacks two things. Good men, and good bookstores. They say that some women (like Joey and me, may be?) may even prefer a good book to a man. It's true. I'd rather re-read an old favourite than try out a blind date.

So there I was at Crosswords, the only thing that can pass off for a bookstore in Ahmedabad. I went to look for Orhan Pamuk's "My Name Is Red".

Anyway, so I did what I usually do. I plonked myself on the floor at the Indian Fiction section. And I stacked a whole lot of books that I wanted to check out. And by that I mean, reject with disdain.

I was having a quiet time. I was just beginning to enjoy myself tching tching about the downfall of Indian literature, when I saw HIM standing oh too close for comfort.

Nice cologne. First thought. Tick - No body odour. Thankfully. I swear I don't intentionally start ticking off a mental list, but it just happens. I am so much in search of "my kinda guy" that it's almost like breathing now, you know!

He picked up Amitav Ghosh's "The Glass Palace". Immediate thought. Tick - Likes the same books as me. Some people don't like this book, some people love it. I am one of those who read it repeatedly for relaxation, i.e. I worship it.

He knelt down to look at a few books in a lower shelf. I got a chance to see his shoes. Loafers. With socks. Green and pink. I was really surprised. I am constantly looked down upon by my friends for wearing socks that are bright and most often don't match my outfits. No I am serious. My friend MN, got me 32 pairs from Dubai last year. Pretty, different colours, with stars, ankle length. I will always remember her. As I will, this man with the green and pink socks. Tick - wears lovely socks. Tick, tick - wears PINK!

I found myself giving him a side-long glance. Hey, it's been like years since I did that. But come on, this man and I did have some karmic connection, no? I liked his clothes. Simple. Muted. Faded jeans. Frayed at several places. Gray sweatshirt. Looked worn out.

Rule 1 of dressing down - only 1 item of your clothing can be loud.
Rule 2 of dressing down? Sometimes socks will be the entire outfit.

This man had me eating out of his hand. But waittaminnit. He wasn't even looking at me. That's odd. But okay, some men just take longer than others, right? And then he sat down on the floor. Tick - not fussy about sitting on the floor. Ah, soul mates. He went through each book slowly. He even picked up my friend's book, "A Grasshopper's Pilgrimage". I am partial towards my friends' books. That made me feel fondly for him. Tick - Reads peppy books written by friends on spirituality. Then, he turned towards me, didn't smile immediately. Looked. For a exactly 3 seconds. And smiled. Head rush. Tick - pearly, eventoothed smile.

I smiled back. I think. Don't know. I was scared he would ask me for my number. I was scared he would speak and burst the fairytale. I was scared, I admit, of being let down. Again. So I did what I knew best. Went back to my books and viciously, yes, more viciously than usual, pulled them down, albeit in my head, muttered audibly and put them back into the shelves.

And each time I did that, this gorgeous, almost perfect creature would give me an understanding smile. Damn, he was cute. But I knew I had to walk away.

He didn't make any attempt to follow me. I sighed. He WAS looking at the books and didn't mean to hit on me. I hid behind the music section so that I could get a clear yet distant view of his moves. He browsed more books, I couldn't see what though. I consoled myself, "It's okay, he must be gay in any case. Too good to be true baby. Go home and cry over your complicated relationship."

So I stopped stalking the poor man. I browsed the music section for a bit and then went to the check out counter. I saw the demi-god ahead of me 2 lines away. And this time I got a clear view of the books he had. It was then that I knew. It WAS too good to be true! Far away from "my kinda man".

What was he carrying you ask? "Five Point Someone", "One Night At A Call Centre" and "Two States". Chetan Bhagat. Not one. Not two. But three.

I have dated men whose idea of reading was Playboy and Gentleman. And men who had archived and serialized years of copies of Autocar and Inside Outside. And men who read Business Today for pleasure. And men who preferred women's magazines. But this is where I draw the line.

I hugged my copy of "My Name Is Red" and walked out. Relieved. Happy. Free.

Disclaimer: I have nothing against Chetan Bhagat. I don't know him. But I don't appreciate his books. I have nothing against people who read his books, they just can't be my boyfriends.

Joey's Diary - Famous Last Lines

Dear Diary,

There are some dates that are doomed to end before they start. You find that the guy is good-looking on the outside but a complete moron on the inside. So, in ascending order, recorded for all posterity, ten famous last lines:

#10
Mr. Man: So tell me, what are your hobbies?
Joey: Oh god, do you also have a scrapbook?

#9
Mr. Man: I have a dog called Pepsi. I think you'll love him.
Joey: Pepsi...can you get me one right now...(while I escape)

#8
Mr. Man: I've seen Zoolander twelve times. Have you seen it?
Joey: I thought you said you'd watched and liked it when you were twelve!

#7
Mr. Man: I want to know everything about you.
Joey: (runs away)

#6
Mr. Man: I love kids. Do you like kids?
Joey: Sometimes. When they're imaginary. Or unborn.

#5
Mr. Man: I heard it's a cute movie. Let's go together.
Joey: You just said "cute". Let's not.

#4
Mr. Man: I got this silver ring for you from Jaipur.
Joey: Frodo? Is that you?

#3
Mr. Man: So tell me, what do you think of me?
Joey: I don't. For when I try, I get a woolly, vacant feeling in my head.

#2
Mr. Man: I will find the chink in your armour.
Joey: I think I'm going to barf.

#1
Mr. Man: You have a lot of books. Hey, can I borrow this one?
Joey: Stop touching my books! STOP TOUCHING THEM. ARGH.

Maya: Don't Give Me Diet Tips

Maya met Ajay after a good 6 or 7 years. She had heard from the grapevine that he had recently gotten himself a divorce. He looked older, had put on some weight, he had retained his good dressing sense, but she could see a sure belly blossoming under his shirt. While she was sorry for him, she had no particular inclination of getting him to speak about it. And as the evening progressed, she realised she didn't want him to speak at all.

It was a party, a good party. The dry city is not so dry at personal parties, as we all know. Maya was in a good mood, two drinks down, life was always merry. She circulated and grooved to the music. Her enthusiasm was infectious. She saw Ajay watching her as she danced. Impulsively she gave her butt an extra wriggle and winked at him naughtily. Come on, two drinks down. It's allowed. Random play, old friend, it could have meant SOMETHING.

She sat down for a breather and spoke to a few hot ladies. Yes, some in their mid-thirties and didn't look a day older than 24 and they had 8-yr old daughters! And the topic drifted to Pilates and Yoga and diets. Maya's not fat, but of course she thinks she is! She is not paranoid, she was putting on weight, but a little dietary adjustment and workouts began to help her drop it, slowly, but surely.

And it was then that a male voice was heard. "You want to learn how to drop weight, mujhse pucho. I have lost two kgs in 1 month." The ladies turned. It was Ajay. Maya choked on her drink. But he went on, "Eat 1 khakhra in the morning with a glass of juice..." Maya walked off as she heard his voice trail off.

Nah, had he been worth anything, she'd have seen it long ago.

Moral of the story, my dear male friends: Don't give diet tips to women, unless you don't ever want to get into their pants or you really are best buddies, or you do look like Imran Khan (cricketer or the actor) or you're simply gay!

Maya danced the night in abandon. Yes, she abandoned even conversation with Ajay. He left the party soon after.

Will I Ever Go On A Date Again?

Maya and Joey, both single women, were sitting in an auto-rickshaw. It was the end of the day, and the beginning of a long evening before it was time to turn off the lights, sleep, wake up the following morning and begin the rigmarole all over again.

This city, we call passionately, Ahmedabad - or fondly, No Sex In This City!

28, stable job, writes for a passion, has done it for a living, a bod to die for - Joey lit a cigarette, and out of the blue quipped, "Will I ever go on a date again?" Maya was surprised. She'd thought a girl like Joey would have trouble keeping the bad boys off. Apparently not.

"Seriously, do you know how long it has been since I went on a date?" Silence. "Been years, at least 3. Scared to say 4." Maya thought of her complicated long-distance boyfriend.

"The last two dates I had, ended badly." Was that a lament? "Come on, it can't be that bad." Maya consoled her friend.

"Ok, so I went on a date, to the pool-side cafe at Fortune Landmark. This dud-stud came wearing a t-shirt I hated. I sat down at the table, but half-way through the meal, I was like I have to go. He looked stunned! But I just had to leave. I hated his t-shirt! And I told him to finish the hamburger. I hated that too!"

For a minute there was silence. But Maya couldn't resist, "And the second one?"

"Well, that was going well. We could've had something going. We were mixing cocktails in the kitchen, or making a salad, I don't know what, and suddenly I felt a hug grab me from behind! I froze. It had been so long since I had been hugged by a man, that I froze. And when I un-froze, I ran for dear life."

So let's think, who can we ask out to beat the daily routine. We came up with the perfect answer....NO ONE.

Welcome to Ahmedabad, the place where single, intelligent women like Joey and Maya will die single.