That`s when I decided to speak to him. It is always better for a man to talk to a man and solve issues. Men end up looking like fools only when they attempt to talk and resolve issues with a lady.
Don’t understand a thing? Don’t get the context? Well…you are reading part two of a series and looks like you haven’t read the first part. Please read When I was the villain – Part 1 before you proceed any further.
I walked up to him and said: “Rahul, I need to speak to you.”
“Funny, for I thought you are speaking to me,” he replied. He sounded like the typical Management Trainee. I have nothing against MTs…I mean how could somebody have ill feelings towards a person whose designation sounded like ‘Empty” (Did you try saying ‘MT` again?).
“No, alone.” If eyes could kill, I would be serving a 20 year sentence now. And might have turned gay by the 2nd year.
“Great. You can go near the cooler and start talking. You will be alone there.” He let out a chuckle.
We Rajans are known for our patience. In fact, when the Japanese announced World War – II by bombing Chennai in 1940s (this 40s, 50s, 60s option was definitely invented by somebody who forgot the exact dates regularly)…my grand father went under his cot. The patient man that he was, he stayed under his cot for two years. We served him food and toilet paper under the cot.
I culled out all my ancestor`s patience and said: “Rahul, I want to speak to you alone.” If Priya had heard me say the words, she would have thought I was a wild animal. Such was my tone.
Bowing down to the wild animal in me, Rahul accepted to talk to me alone.
Me: “So, you dating that girl?”
Rahul: “Yeah. Why? Is she your sister?”
Me: “No!”
Rahul: “Then why are you sweating?”
Me: “Didn`t take bath today. Also Chennai is hot this time of the year.”
Rahul: “So…what about Priya. Why are you asking me?”
Me: “I can`t talk here. We need to go someplace else.”
Rahul: “Where?”
Me: “My place?”
Rahul: “Will there be shots fired?”
Me: “No!”
Rahul: “Then, let us make it my place. With new furniture and all, I can`t take a duel home.”
Me: “Hmm…how about mine?”
Rahul: “Nope.”
Me: “Can you ensure my safety at your place?
Rahul: “Nope. Can`t do that. My mom bites me sometimes.”
Me: “You son of a bitch!”
Anyway, to cut the long story short…we decided to meet and discuss the issue threadbare at Rahul`s house. I was to meet him at 6 p.m. on Vijayaraghavan Road and he was to lead me for the last mile.
Before I left my house, I strapped a butter knife around my ankles, cello-taped two forks on both my thighs and hung a bottle of Harpic on my hip. When it comes to nauseating a man, nothing is better than Harpic. Half of the men believe it is not the Harpic but the “Can you clean the toilets please,” request from the wife that results in nausea.
In my bag, I also had some mustard seeds which I wanted to use if he chased me in a car. I had seen Noddy use mustard seeds to good effect in one of his shows on Pogo.
As I lifted my right leg to step into his house, the fork attached to my right thigh pierced my skin and I let out an “ammmmaaaa!”
That`s when I first….
Jai Ekta Kapoor!
Part three follows shortly. Would have finished this series today itself…but my daughter`s naming ceremony is scheduled for tomorrow and we need to decorate my house.
Whenever my history teacher told me that the North Indians were Aryans and the South Indians Dravidians, I didn`t trust her. Probably because she was a North Indian….but now I trust her completely. 