Pieces of the Puzzle

Sorry Guys- Nothing to do with cricket!

Heretic inspired me to write this one (see previous post comments box). Women can get away with batting their eyes. You know Heretic, I really wish I could. Life would have been so simple. Call it pride, call it chicken. I can not get myself to ask a guy for a favor (using eyelashes at least). To top it all, I am endowed with lustrous eyelashes! Ha! I guess God intended me to lead a better life.

I remember this incident in high school. I go up to this guy Karthik (a common guy with a common name) and ask him to lend me his notes.

"Hey, Gimme your notes da!"

He refused point blank. I coaxed him a bit in the most un-girly annoying way. "What’s your problem, I’ll give it back to you in a minute!" Our protagonist wasn’t budging the least.

My friend Priya who witnessed this gave me a crash course on dealing with guys. "Boosting of the Fragile Male Ego" it was called. Armed with this new found knowledge, I glided to Karthik, smiled coyly, complimented his dumb Frenchie, said sorry for previous behavior, asked him for the notes with the sweetest- most musical voice I could muster. I hate to confess, I did some batting of eyelashes too. There were the notes- right on my lap with his phone number!

What a sucker!

You would think, I learnt my lesson. That my glorious days of male-slaves had begun. But no! I just watched helplessly as the other girls were getting their way. Exasperated at my own righteousness.

I still cant do it without feeling like shit.

Got a call from my buddy Ums. When I saw his caller ID, I knew he had heard. Shucks! He was calling to discuss my court hearing which is scheduled for next month. Sadistically he laughed "Ho ho ho! You criminal! How could you do that? Compared to you, I’m just a petty thief -Ha ha!" Ums and I have a history of getting into trouble. So we exchange notes to figure out who is better off. To my credit, I have been caught only(?) thrice and been sent to appeal in front of the judge every single time. Ums has gotten away with fines, well, a zillion times!

By now, me and judgy were on first-name basis. Only if my parents knew, their dear daughter was caught in court-kuchery! Family name mingled in mud and stuff! Brrr… I shudder to imagine.

This time the cop had been very brutal. He told me my crime was close to murder!!! MURDER!??!!

Story unfolds- Early morning, I drove out of my parking lot feeling slightly out-of-it (like every early morning). There, in front of me was a school bus, yellow and bright. It didn’t register. Popping out of the school bus were stop signs, 2 of them. Red and brighter. It didn’t register. Behind the bus, was a cop car obeying rules. It didn’t register. What the heck is this dumb cop doing in the middle of the road stopping like this? Passed the car. Passed the bus. In oblivion.

Zapped out of my reverie. Instantly I knew, I had made a mistake. That too right under his nose! Too late! Vaoooown- Vaooown !! Vaooown -Vaooown (Repeat)!! Blue and red lights whirling. I knew it! I had read it in the book. Loading school bus- no overtaking! It all came to me.. maybe even the page number.

He had no mercy. Slapped a 250 buck(!) ticket, took my license and told me to go to traffic court. All this in front of 40 school kids jeering.

"What the heck is wrong with school children in this country? Cant they cross the road with cars moving by -like we did in India? What’s this gotto do with murder, you moronic officer? I didn’t intend on running over on them? There wasn’t a kid in sight when I passed! Isn't 250 a lot, u thief??!"

I said none of this. Didn’t even show a finger at the annoying kids. Just took the ticket and drove to office wondering how they gave me the license in the first place.

Background- My oil-painting class has been quite a time pass. Painting oranges and grapes in color, oranges and grapes in black & white, oranges and grapes in brown & yellow… I understand the idea of making us proficient in interpreting color schemes, but to tell you the truth… I had developed an allergy to the above mentioned fruits. I can paint oranges in my sleep, still have difficulties with the grapes though. So when our instructor announced that we would be having a live model for the next class (that was yesterday), I imagined a woman/man wearing a grape costume. At least they wont be sitting lifeless on a table.

Yesterday’s class, 7 pm- ‘He- the model’ was there. No grape costume. Actually no costume!! Raised my left eyebrow. Hadn’t been warned. Looked around to catch other student’s eyes. Giving suppressed looks. Everyone acting mature. Setting up their easels like there were fruits in front of them. I did the same. Trying not to look stupid. Never been in the same room with a naked stranger. Mind you, I am not complaining. Just a little taken aback. Gained internal composure in 2 minutes. Looked more closely. Hey, I have to paint him dammit! One has to look. It was all there, fresh to be painted. Boy! that’s the biggest.. er.. equipment I ever saw. How does he carry them around? ‘He- the model’ didn’t seem half as flustered. Now if the women out there think I saw George Clooney nude, let me describe this ‘He- the model’. Flabby and greying. Wondered if they got him cheap.

Anyway, the instructor gave pointers (literally pointing to his manhood) on how to paint the shadows and shapes (as he decently put it). I was asked to get a closer look as I wasn’t getting it right. Why do men have complicated body parts?! It was a little embarrassing. I hoped ‘He- the model’ wouldn’t want to see his portrait. He might have been insulted as I placed his leg in such a way the it would cover the essential parts. That saved me a lot of paint, effort and dignity.

3 lessons learnt-

1. I don’t think I can become a nude painter. You know what I mean.
2. I prefer nude females to males. No, you don’t know what I mean. I just feel women have a better body, kinda pleasing to the eye. Nude women are such a turn on.
3. I still don’t wanna paint oranges and grapes for a while.

When I was five- Love was chocolates covered in shiny wrappers.

When I was nine- Love was a another taboo word only elders used.

When I was thirteen- Love was the guy next door with dreamy eyes.

When I was seventeen- Love was intense, something to die for.

When I was twenty-one- Love was a hoax, a rude joke.

When I was twenty-five- Love was acceptance, a sacrifice.

Now at twenty-seven- I am still in the process of deciphering Love.

I am back from my disappearing act. Thanks for stopping by. I will have to catch up with all of you soon. Like an addict, I savored every bit of my trip…now I want more (droool!).

The first day we went white water rafting on the river rapids below the mountains. It was quite an adrenaline push. The fact that I knew how to swim was consoling enough not to get a heart attack every time a huge rapid doused me with so much force that I almost lost balance. The high point was when a friend fell off the raft (*suppressed laugh*) and we couldn’t get him aboard for a while. He swears I pushed him with the oars.

Next day was the starting of the hike. The hike started off with a serene walk in the woods along a gushing stream cascading on small stones, smashing the big rocks. Crossed the stream on moss covered logs with sprouting mushrooms. Every single leaf in the forest was covered with dew. Slippery stones and bright green ferns. White flowers with transparent stripes not found anywhere else on the planet. Interesting rock formations. Clearings showing the mountains tops covered in clouds. Like gigantic chimneys. Blue mountains as far as the eye can see. Saw the majestic south face of the mountain we planned to climb to the very top. Halfway during the climb, clouds encompassed us. It was like walking through the freezer aisle of a grocery store. In spite of the cool breeze, we were sweating from the hike and could see our heads smoking. Little waterfalls adorned our path. After a long tiring hike, we reached a point where we could get a 360 degree panoramic view of the mountains below. Looking above, we saw only the sky. We knew this had to be the top! We were even above the clouds. The strangest part was- we could hear it raining…below us. It was like a dream not be awakened from.