A (Very) Short History of Mes Amours

This is why I keep all my old diaries. Yes, they record the most humiliating, embarrassing, idiotic moments of my life, but they're also kinda like movies that are so bad they're good.

So, here it goes--a short history of the amours of Joey, from teenage to adulthood. (It's not a complete history, of course, a complete history would require a blog post the size of the Bible.)

1994: Sushant has hair like Bruce Lee. I think he likes me. He wrote "sexy" in the dust on the seat of my Kinetic. He recorded a cassette just for me. The first song on Side A is "Kya Ada Kya Jalwa Tere Paro". He said it reminds him of me.

1996: Ravi definitely likes me. Yesterday, he threw water balloons at me and then followed me to school. He's old, he's in college but he has a nice smile. I'm definitely in love with him.

1997: Prashant wants to talk to me but granny will skin me alive if she knows I'm talking to boys so we made up a code and I gave him my phone number. When he calls, he'll say "scout's" and we'll talk only if I reply "honour". I think I'm going to fail the Hindi paper. I hate Premchand.

1998: Taslim set fire to the chairs today. He is so handsome.

1999: Selva broke up with me. Last week he said I had nice legs. This week he said he doesn't want to see me again. I am having feelings of great sadness and loneliness. I think I'll go hide in the basement library.

2000: The world is going to end this year. I can feel it in my bones. I wonder if I should call Mansur. Maybe not. I don't think he's my boyfriend. I'm not sure, though. I have no idea what's happening. I feel funny.

2001: Rana has a girlfriend. Dammit. I wonder if I should be a slut and use my feminine wiles to break them up. If they get married, I'll hunt them down and torture them.

2002: Why didn't the fucking world end in 2000? Arun's mother told me that I led her son down paths of sin. Who says things like "paths of sin"? Psycho bitch. He didn't even stand up for me. Asshole.

2003: Colin is an ignorant moron. He had a Degas print on his wall and didn't even know what it was. He said that art is of no value to anyone, just because I recognized it and he doesn't know jackshit. I will never see him again.

2004: I can't stand Jatti. I don't understand why I'm dating him. I think I'll date him for one more month, see how it goes. Why am I sleeping with a Jat called Jatti?

2005: Oh my god. Feroze is stalking me. Wanker. I saw his car parked outside my house last night and he was still sitting there when I went out this morning. If he gets within talking distance I'm going to kick him in his goolies.

2006: I haven't been on a date this year. Damn. I miss sex.

2007: I haven't been on a date this year. I don't even miss sex.

2008: I've started talking to myself all the time. Is that normal?

2009: I need more glitter. I like dipping cardboard pieces in Fevicol and then dipping them in glitter. I should learn how to knit too. I could make tiny hats for my pet rocks.

The Unicorn

So...my friend and I were hanging out at her place watching crappy re-runs on TV and we got talking about the Unicorn. The Unicorn is that perfect person, The One, the yin to your yang or the yang to your yin, the caramel on your crème brûlée, the olive in your martini. Then she told me about this guy she knows. Let's call him Mr. X to safeguard his anonymity. She said that Mr. X is the perfect man for me, she wanted to set me up with him. And these are the reasons she listed:

1. He likes watching weird art movies and random Telegu movies. I like watching weird art movies and random Tamil movies.
2. He has nothing in his room except for a cupboard and bed, not a single thing that he doesn't need. I have epileptic fits about excessive consumerism.
3. He likes wandering off whenever he wants to. I like being left to my devices for long stretches of time and would live in a dungeon for the rest of my life if it had a library.
4. He likes to know everything about the music he likes. I like to know everything about anything I like.
5. He is a fitness freak. I am averse to bodies that are out of shape.
6. He wants separate bedrooms and bathrooms. I want separate bedrooms and bathrooms.
7. He does not want children. I do not want children.
8. He quotes Nietzsche. I quote from everywhere.

While she says all this, I realize that I never want to meet this guy. Ever. The conversation runs out, I leave, and as I walk home, I am thinking about this Unicorn. My friend wants an answer tomorrow, she wants to know if she can set us up. Why do I never want to meet him?

My friend, the same one I was talking to about Mr. X, had told me, "Relationships are all about compromises, you must be more accepting of other people, and have a positive outlook on life." And I said to her, "Fuck that." I don't see acceptance and compromise as an integral part of any relationship that I can be involved in. I am riddled with pessimism and doubt, I think hope is overrated, I delight in the sardonic and sarcastic, I detest idealism, question those "sincere" things that people say, laugh at noble thoughts. All in all, I never want to tiptoe through the tulips of other people's great feelings and emotions.

"You'll never find anyone," my friend told me. I realized she might be right. But I also realized that I couldn't care less. I'm quite okay if I live all alone and become the crazy old cat lady who gets eaten by the neighbour's dachshund.

However, I still don't have an answer to why I don't want to meet the Unicorn. Maybe if I met the Unicorn, everything would become perfect and boring. Maybe I'd rather be like Bertie Wooster and have sudden short-lived infatuations than anything permanent. Maybe I can't stand the thought of change. Maybe it's Maybelline.

I think of the words of the beloved Zenmaster Linji, "If you meet the Buddha, kill him."

The next day I call my friend and tell her, "I don't want to meet the Unicorn. Just like I don't want to meet the Easter Bunny. " "Fine," she said, "Stay holed up in your room forever. Don't come crying to me when you're forty and all alone."

I shrug and hang up. When I'm forty, I'm going to Ulan Bator and eat khorkhog with the nomads.

The Married Men Mayhem

What IS it with married men? Really are there no single 30-somethings anymore? And why are all married men so effing desperate to get into the pants of an almost-30! If they fancy the excitement, shouldn't they be stalking younger, gullible women?

The strangest things I've heard from married men, and my retorts. I admit, most of them added here, are in hindsight!

Mr. "Jump Right Into Bed" Married Man: My wife's gone to her mother's house!
Maya: Is she so embarrassed that she can't take you there?

Mr. "Testing Various Grounds" Married Man: Are you feeling lonely?
Maya: No, it's entertaining to see you get rejected by women every few minutes.

Mr. "I'm Too Sexy For My Pants" Married Man: My wife says I'm great in bed!
Maya: Oh poor you! You believe her, don't you?

Mr. "Sexy Talk" Married Man: I like the colour of your lingerie.
Maya: Do you want me to pack it in a plastic bag and give it to you to take home?

Mr. "Horny Walk" Married Man: You could be a model for Playboy!
Maya: Yes, I know. And when I do, buy the mag and get off on it.

Mr. "Crass, No Class" Married Man: I get really aroused when I see nudes of Angelina Jolie.
Maya: Funny, that's what your wife said to me a few minutes ago!

Mr. "Oh Poor Me" Married Man: It's tough being in a long-distance marriage. My wife lives in Delhi, I live here.
Maya: Yea, but that's the only way she can actually stand you!

Mr. "Gets Corny When Horny" Married Man: You're the most beautiful woman in the room tonight.
Maya: Shit! I owe your wife a 1000 bucks now, why DID you have to say that!

Mr. "Reads Linda Goodman" Married Man: They say opposites attract. Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus!
Maya: May be that's why I'm repelled by you. I am just like you. I drool over pretty women!

Mr. "Takes the Cake" Married Man: My wife and I are like brother and sister.
Maya: Gosh, there's honesty, but telling me that you're a sister-f*&^er! Man!

Two Drinks For Roberto

I refused an invitation to a party this weekend. Reason? I don't have a date. Actually, I don't know the hosts too well, so a date would've come in handy. Especially two drinks down, when I get a little woozy :)

The invitation got me thinking about Roberto. He is quite the party guy. Not your dance-the-night away kinda guy. He just loves to socialize at parties. Has to meet everyone. Talk to everyone, not just women, men too! No seriously, he's a people's person. If he has met a person once, he's likely to flag that person down, months later, from the opposite side of the street to say hello even if that person has no recollection of him!

So if we went to parties, he would just give me a drink and then leave gaping at the air in front of me and just walk off to talk to others. Now, ME - I get the creeps when I walk into a room full of people! Even if I do know some people there. I like to hold on to my date till there's enough alcohol running in my system, and then there's no stopping me. I will burn the dance floor, break hearts, kiss the air as I greet strangers and simply rock the night out. But the journey to that place is hard.

When I began dating Roberto, I used to get really annoyed with him. But there's nothing more uncool than to fight in public or go cling to someone who will just shrug you off. And that's how I learned to let go and observed a pattern in his behaviour.

The last time we met, we were at Shiro in Mumbai. Swanky as shit! High ceiling, shimmering, beady curtains, low orange-red lighting, scented candles, huge sofas, the works. We had not even been invited to the party. We were tagging along with Roberto's cousin! Yea, that's how social he is!

As soon as we entered, Roberto and the cousin deserted me. Resigning to my fate, I ordered myself a mojito. Soon this really sweet guy came up to me. He looked sleepy and admitted he was. I got him a drink (not bought!!). Conversation flowed. Soon my entourage grew. I met pompous, sexist men and I met lecherous men...Women sized me up and I returned their disdainful look. The cute, sleepy man was replaced by a banker who took me out for a smoke and showed a lot of interest in my work. He managed to not smile when I said I smoke only when I drink. He was cute.

And just as I downed the last sip of my second drink and re-entered the club area, it happened again. Roberto caught my eye from across the room and smiled. He raised his glass as a personal toast to me. Again, my heart fluttered. He lowered his eyes, and signalled discreetly for me to go stand next to him.

I tried not to run, tried my best to walk across the room lazily. And as I stood next to him, I felt his fingers entwine in mine. I know a genuine smile lit my face up!

Soon there was an arm around my shoulder, but he continued to talk to these two Englishmen, while one of his fingers played with my hair. As we moved from group to group, my ability to listen to the conversation and contribute to it faded. All I could think of was Roberto's arm around my waist.

Most people go together and lose each other during a party, a few drinks down. But Roberto and I - we would come separately (though together) and find each other at the end. Always.

Not-Really-A-Date

It was the end of the day. Maya was packing away her laptop to leave. "I have to go home and write a letter," she said. Joey had to stay back late. She felt jealous. "Lucky you. Writing a letter while I slave away here for all eternity." Maya found no reason to sympathize with Joey's shenanigans.

Just before Maya left for the day, she asked Joey, "What about the good ones?"
Joey was staring vacantly at papers that seemed to have vague maps on them. "Huh? What?"
Maya said, "The good ones. You know, the good dates. The nice guys. The ones who made you feel great. Come on, I'm sure there were some."

Joey sat back speechless. She had dated so many morons that she'd forgotten what the good ones had been like. "Oh...the good ones. Actually, yes, there was a really good one. And not that far back in the past either. It wasn't technically a date, just a random guy. But yes, it was a good one."

Maya picked up her various bags (food bag, laptop bag, bag bag), and burdened by the thought of the letter she had to write, left, leaving Joey all alone with the mappy papers and the thought of the not-really-a-date.

(Later that night, Joey tells Maya about the best not-really-a-date in recent history. Film dissolves. Flashback to last month where Joey is sitting at one of the tables outside the CCD at Law Garden reading a book on anthropology. There are four tiny, hideously expensive empty bottles of what Joey is sure is fake water on the table.)

Joey hated the coffee at CCD, it tasted like ditchwater. She had drunk a lot of water so had no choice but to visit the hideous germ-laden loo. As she passed by the corner table, the guy looked up at her and smiled.

Joey was shocked, killers smiled at you right before they abducted you and slit your throat and ate your organs, but she smiled back bravely. When she got back to her table, the guy was sitting on the empty table next to hers. Joey instinctively got ready to run. When it came to fight-or-flight, Joey always chose flight. She sat down and looked around for something to beat him with in case he tried to eat her lungs or something. Finding nothing, she held on to her keys. If he tried to attack, she could gouge his eyes out with it.

"You like Levi-Strauss? I see you reading it." he asked her in a thick German accent.
Oh no! A Nazi! Joey thought.

Aloud she said, "Yes." She held the keys tighter.
"Me too," he said.

Joey let go of the keys. And they started to talk about weird things they knew about - weird tribes, Indiana Jones, the Survey of India, concentration camps etc. And a million other things most people would have been bored by. He was ugly, looked like he had a broken nose, his hair had been cut by a dementoid, his shoes were a loathsome khakhi colour, and he was probably almost 40, but Joey still liked him.

They went for a walk at the IIM because Joey told him about the birds that keep crapping on your head there and he wanted to see these marvellous crapping birds for himself. As they walked down the tree-lined avenue at the IIM, dodging birdshit, the guy asked, "Hey, you want beer? I got some," and he opened a backpack that was filled with cans of cold beer. Joey didn't want to spoil the magic by asking logical questions about why the beer was still cold and why anyone would want to walk around with a backpack full of beer cans so she just picked a can and they walked around the campus.

Then it was time to go home and they said goodbye. No phone numbers exchanged, no promises to meet again, no heartbreak, no fornication, nothing. Joey felt happy, though the next day she'd be back to her grumpy, curmudgeonly old self. She felt like someone in an arty Swedish movie.

The birds flew around at IIM, crapping on everything as always.

(Film dissolves. Back to the future.)

"And that was the end of that," Joey said.

Hate Mail: 5 Gemstones From A Guy

Maya, Joey and Noor are really honoured to get so much attention from a guy. It's been so long that, even this makes them giggle. Here's the mail, with the two penny bit from the girls!

"It's perchance that I stumbled upon this blog. And I can't help it, with so much male-bashing in this blog, it makes sense to stand up for the guys. Don't jump all over me for being anon. If you want to find me, you just need to look over your shoulder. Not literally... moron!"

Maya: I don't believe you stumbled upon it. I am sure you're on my FB list!
Joey: "stumbled upon" - Are you hurt Mr. Man?
Noor: Good grief!

First, your characters Joey and Maya are no divas. Joey is a guy's name... ever heard of Friends? Except in rare cases of highly misplaced gender sensibility it is not. From what I see here, they are just pouty, raucous, slightly better-than-average looking (and brained, which explains a lot) females, who have whiled away their girly days dreaming of Mel Gibson only to wake up in late spinster-hood that they are still single and with not lot many options to mingle.

Maya: Pffftttt! Joe, is that one of your rejects?
Joey: I think I threw up a little.
Noor: Too many archaic thoughts!

So while you seem so clueless as to why you (or your alter egos M&J) can never have a date these days, here are a few pointers:

1. Introspect: The pimply faced no-good looking next door lass has two kids in tote and you are still thinking about dates. Think as to what she's got that you ain't got. And get rid of the myopic vision of a prince in shining armor waiting to sweep you off your feet. The prince already has his bele and rides away into the sunset. Which means you ain't it, princess!

Maya: *introspects* Who's talking about shining armor, I was talking about mindless _ _ _
Joey: Dude, learn to spell "belle"!
Noor: *Speechless* So much wisdom makes me cry!

2. Accept: You will be categorically ticking off all of above as incorrectly surmised about you. Denial is expected. If you are good at fooling yourself, there's no hope except prayer. So don't deny that you have a more than perfect expectation from the Mr. Man. News baby! Above-average is not perfect, and if you haven't hooked it right so far, it is time to rethink your expectations.

Maya: We ARE saying that there is NO HOPE!
Joey: Re-think my expectations, why? Ew...
Noor: Prayer? Really archaic...! And I'm doomed, I don't even believe in God!

3. Speak: Yes, I will ask a gal what her hobbies are. But definitely this isn't my opening line. This is reserved for those pricey acting twerps for whom I'll be spending a significant hour or so of my life trying to communicate with. Opening your mouth doesn't mean you have to close out with a bj. Unless you are the most googled celebrity on earth, chances are I know nothing about you or your interests. And more often than not, I don't give a damn about them either. So try to be more forthcoming. A conversation is a partnership and you have to do your bit.

Maya: Twerp? Really, Archie comics? At your age? Hmmmm
Joey: Hey, I am opening my mouth, *yawwwn*
Noor: I am NOT a gal! And none of the girls I know are either! Thankfully I'm no gal!

4. Listen: Unless you weigh a ton and are about to fall on me from the floor above, I don't really care if you have a few extra pounds around your love handles. So don't crib about the few extra grams you have put on since morning. Yet, even if that's all you can think of, then listen to what I have to say. I don't claim to know the perfect answer, but I am entitled to an opinion too.

Maya: Like I said, Hrithik Roshan? Fire away with the diet tips, or RIP!
Joey: NO! You are NOT entitled to any opinion! This is OUR blog.
Noor: I will crib about whatever I want and to whoever and whenever...!

5. Understand: When I am going to look at you, I might very well be undressing you in my mind. But that isn't all that I do all the time. I can think of other things too. So when you see me gazing at you, don't always assume you are losing your clothes. I could be imagining a Porsche of the same color as your top or thinking why you remind me of the divorced witch I am trying to forget.

Maya: I understand, I almost have a diagnosis under the DSM IV for you!
Joey: Aha, you're divorced!!! HA HA HA
Noor: mind - undressing - cars - too many boy things! Where are all the men?

So there you have it. Five small gems of wisdom from the other side. In closing, the world is fortunately not made up of you only. When faced with a Mr. Man who irritates you, see if you can still find five things that you can like about him. He probably did the same and hence is trying to connect with you. Concentrate on the five things and you will find your perspective will be a lot brighter than usual.

Maya: Thanks Mr. Man!
Joey: Loser!
Noor: This is NOT a Hugh Grant movie! I am not writing 5 nice things about any man who bugs me, unless he's my boss!

And if you don't there's no loss either. It only goes on to prove the last line:

"The reason why men prefer turning gay is because the alternative is sleeping with you!"

Maya, Joey, Noor, all the gay men, all the gay women, all the smart straight women, all the sensible men: CHORUS IN UNISON: F.U.C.K O.F.F

Noor - It's Been So Long That...

Introducing Noor: Miss-Know-It-All! NO, she really does - about music, books, science, movies - can spell or pronounce any word you give her, will cross-check every piece of information you give her about any subject - 5 feet 5 inches tall, slim-shouldered, long-legged, dusky, even-toothed 420 watt smile, tousled wavy black hair - she's the Indian woman the smart guy dreams of. But all's not well here either. Noor's not been out on a date for so long that...

Noor, Maya and Joey were having lunch together. They usually do. The boys in their department join them sometimes. But the girls enjoy their girlie lunches once in a way, and these days it seems to have become essential.

Noor seemed to be lost in her thoughts. And then she suddenly said, "You know over Diwali, I was so thrilled that a 12-year old boy in the neighbourhood asked me out."

"Don't be a moron. 12-year old kids don't ask ANYONE for dates, leave alone you." Joey hissed. "No, no, it's true. He did." insisted Noor urgently. "Come on Noorie, you can't be serious," even Maya refused to support her on this one.

"See he came to my house and said, will you come down to burst crackers with me?" Noor revealed a little sheepishly.

"THAT'S NOT A DATE!" Joey and Maya yelled.

"It's been so long that...." Noor stopped mid-sentence. Raucous laughter drowned her voice.