Pieces of the Puzzle

Its really sad that Nudie decided to move. Its been a shock really. Not just to me but all those who knew and liked her. My meeting with Nudie was quite a coincidence, a sudden encounter if you must. Who would have thought that we would get so intimate?

A few months ago on that memorable day, I was talking to my friend on my cell phone and decided to play with my window blinds (as a sign of boredom). We usually don’t open the blinds of this particular window which faces the neighbor building. We like to be secretive about what we do in our bedroom. That day, I started scanning other people’s homes from their open windows.

I saw this young beautiful woman walking around in her room. Quite a shabby pad for a pretty thing like her, I thought. Whats with that skimpy top, dont you know some decent/respectable folks live here? Before I could even gather my wits, this woman starts peeling her clothes. I mean actually stripping. Skimpy top and all on the floor. Had to pinch myself first: these things happen only to other people. Then I quickly hang up on my friend after explaining the grave scenario. If it were to him, he might have caught the next flight home. Rushed and switched off the lights, alerted hubby and watched this amazing live performance by Nudie. Now you would think Nudie would realize that her blinds were broken and that there were people trying to get to know her. You would think that any minute now she would run away into the dark abyss never to return.

But she didn’t disappoint us. She walked around naked, read her book naked, manicured naked and most of time scratched herself quite vigorously ( I know, it was not all that glamorous)…..till we got BORED! So we slept (I don’t know if hubby actually did).

The show didn’t stop there. Every night (cos we couldn’t see very clearly at daytime) we were regaled. Prancing and scratching in the nude. We started having more guests than ever before. They even brought out chairs and made themselves comfortable next to the window. Popcorn please!

Then there was this other woman (Creepy, is what we named her) who lives on the floor above Nudie who thought we were peeking into her house. She kept eyeing our window suspiciously. And I thought we were operating under immense discretion. This one time Creepy shut her blinds in anger. Huh?? Some issues you have missy! If only you knew what was going on under your snooty nose!

Maybe Nudie was an exhibitionist who loved to show off her assets. Maybe she was trying to woo someone in our building. Maybe she had psoriasis and couldn’t wear clothes. Who cared?!

But now, she’s left us forever. Some boring people have replaced Nudie and the blinds.

Suddenly, too many posts on ex-crushes, ex-loves, ex-cetra in people's blogs. So you would think I’m going to get all mushy and write my own comical tragedy. You thought right.

Summer of 90. (Do the math) The guy next door. The really tall guy next door. Dark and Handsome too. It doesn’t take much for a south Indian to be dark. You just need to be born in the vicinity. Yeah, back to my object of weak-knees. This object studied in my school, though much senior. Every morning, wandering eyes in the prayer assembly maneuvering through hundreds of heads and finally settling on his. Making unwarranted trips to the water fountain which happened to be next to his class-room. Reveling in my girlfriend’s teases, outwardly acting bugged. Stopping in my tracks and moving real slow (make that crawling) to catch his attention while he sat in the balcony oblivious to my antics. Playing volleyball with more vigor each time he passed.

Every evening at my apartment complex, he played cricket with some local bratty kids, almost half his age (consisting of my brother and his hommies). He would even pick up a fight everytime he got out. How cute, I thought! I couldn’t witness all this if I didn’t plaster my face to the window grill and cock my eyes to the extremities. I knew I would develop some kind of strange deformity if I didn’t think of a better plan.

So I took a mirror and stuck it to the glass pane with Fevicol. Now I could get an unadulterated, clear view of my Object prancing around. Sheer bliss.

Moms are generally inquisitive creatures. She wanted to know what that mirror was doing there. I conjured up some vague story about this Science project -"Effective Solar heating of a Bedroom". Ahem.. in Madras with all that er ..warmth, all we needed was a solar heater! Of course, she believed me.

For a while I didn’t even know this Object’s name. For that, I had to do something I could never dream of.

I had to take my brother’s help!! After battling with my mind, I decided it was worth the risk.

"My dumb darling brother! Er…*blush* I wanted to ask you..that if …. "

"His name is Arjun!" My brother shot back not moving his eyes from the video game.

"Wha-which-How??" Dumbfounded me stuttered.

"Yeah right! Arj told me to tell you! I guess he couldn’t take your silliness either. Eiyuck! So disgraceful. Get a grip moron!"

Shocked and flustered, I buried my self in trains and trains of thought. ‘How did he find out? Arjun, eh?’

The next few months gave me ample material for ‘FLAME’ tests. Yes! Ours would end in marriage.

Epilogue- If I knew his birthday, I’m sure I would've spent more constructive time on Linda Goodman. Never got the guts to approach him. He moved on, I moved on.

Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned. Not the eating-an-apple-pie kinda sin. This is pure cold blooded, suspense filled, heart-stopping sin. I am a living hell because of that and will be till I konk off.

But I will not tell you what it is…hahahaha! *mocking laughter fills the room*

-End of short story-

Expert Analysis- Well, if you feel like banging your head against the nearest wall in frustration, my purpose has been served as well as Ms. Jhumpa Lahiri’s! After reading the Interpreter of Maladies, I fail to comprehend her purpose of leaving us in midair wondering what should happen in the end (of every single short story).

What kind of demented, sadistic mentality is that? I am the reader, I shouldn't be the one using my brains. Maybe I’m not up there with the literary souls who fell for this ploy and bestowed her with a Pulitzer. But I'll still read her next book, which I believe is on the way. She looks good.

It was during my final year of engineering. Cosmo was the happening bar/restaurant in our campus. It had just opened and the ambience was superb. Handsome hunks from hotel management frequented this place. More than that, the huge plasma screen TV showing MTV grind and other masala was the big attraction. The place was shit expensive too. But being cool was everything. Since we losers didn’t have boyfriends with fat wallets, we stuck around nursing a coke for 3 hours. Two cans of coke for the seven of us.

I had to excuse myself from this thrilling party to finish off an errand at the email center. Told them I’d join them in half an hour. I drove my kinetic to this place and got on with my work.

When I came out, I couldn’t find my Kine. Nah! That can’t be. Me being the cool cat and all, didn’t panic. I searched a little more. Knowing my absentmindedness, I looked in the neighboring parking lots as well. Ok now! Time to panic!!! Oh my God..Oh my God! Who could have stolen it??? What do I do?? Will my parents buy me another one??*verge of tears*

What a horrid day this has been.. I started tracing my way back to the morning when I locked my roommate inside (bolted the door and sealed it with the Godrej lock) obviously not realizing she was sleeping. She usually sleeps all day, but somehow she woke up that fateful day as she had an exam. Finding herself locked (courtesy me), she got mad! Not thanking me for a perfectly good excuse, she blamed me for not being able to take her exam. Things got so bad…I had to face the warden, the principal, her parent’s phone call. Yikes!!

AND NOW MY KINETIC WAS STOLEN! Anyway, the most logical thing to do, I took an auto to Cosmo to relate this misfortune to my friends and then probably go to the police station. Now I am usually oblivious to surroundings. But somehow I paid attention in the Cosmo parking lot. I noticed a huge gathering of people, a cop (maybe two) and quite a miserable chap. The chap was murmuring something about his stolen Kinetic.. Aha! Now my ears perked up. Another case! So there’s a serial kinetic robber in this town!

I was about to give my version- sobbing dramatically, when I noticed something really strange. My Kinetic!! In the parking lot, same place where I had parked it when I landed here with my friends.

Elation turns into mystery! Mystery turns into realization! Realization turns into shock! (you get the drift right?)

So now I know that I didn’t drive my Kinetic to the email center, I drove this poor dude’s! Actually I stole it! Gawd!!! Somehow my keys had worked on his vehicle…

Should I tell these people that his Kinetic is out there? Will they believe my story? I don’t think so!

So I run into the restaurant, consult with my friends and do the smartest thing I ever did. Start my Kinetic quickly and push off to the hostel without looking back. This time I made sure it was mine.

Next few nights, I had nightmares of fingerprints, prison bars and watery daal!

In the animal kingdom, I belong to the species- Homo Sapiens. I’m sub-classified into Absentmindo Takenoblamus, common name being Alpha. I’m quite a rarity for my clan.

I have been absentminded from the time I remember (or do I?). I have a memory of an elephant when it comes to people, events, conversations. But a goldfish’s memory when it comes to wearing my clothes, paying the cashier, wondering why I am in the bathroom. Once I forgot to wear the salwar part and strutted around town in my kameez. It probably seemed like a new trend in Madras, so no one bothered to point it out (that’s of course my theory). One other time I was close to spending a night in prison.

I’ve had my embarrassing moments and have given folks around me jitters and entertainment alike. I never learn from previous blunders. When I am so preoccupied, I don’t remember what I need to be learning. Moreover, it’s is always somebody else’s fault.

Today it was the car’s fault when I ran out of gas in the middle of the highway. The freakin indicator doesn’t shout at me to fill gas! This time I was unperturbed, as opposed to the other two times I ran out of gas in this same month. I just waited for somebody to help me push the car to the corner and waited a little longer for someone else to get me gasoline. I thanked them profusely making them feel it’s the worst thing that ever happened to me. I drove on knowing very well that this will happen again.

I better get to work, before I forget why I am here.