February 7th, 2009

At home

Blind Date

“That’s it!” Nick exclaimed.

This is Nick for you, forever pompous. Sometimes I wonder whether it is sane of me to seek advice from him. But he’s a close enough buddy and after a few drags together, he actually gets me talking. Considering how he always manages to get swarmed by gals and his life is bereft of any emotional drama - well almost, he is definitely the best man I know to play agony aunt for my... err… non existing personal relationships. 

“Look bro, this time the idea better be good” I told him flat on his face. I have had a series of disastrous events insinuated in my life by him as if he was Ekta Kapoor and I, some Saas-Bahu TV Soap which required a TRP hike every now and then.

“Just listen to it and you’ll feel like kissing me” he continued in his pompously, puckering up his lips.  

“Fat chance” I laughed out on him, then on my pitiable state. “I’d rather kiss a mule than you” I made a stab at him which I had to regret even before he finished retorting to mine. 

“Hey look. This is getting offensive dude. And if you remain stuck in guy circles all the time, in no time you’ll have no other option but to do that” Nick finished smirking, puffing up his chest like a proud lion.

“Ok. Fine. What’s the idea?” I was beginning to feel my face going red, wondering why I ever confided in Nick.  

He took his time knowing that I was waiting at his disposal. He slowly exhaled the smoke through his nose, something which always leaves me sick if I try. One has to agree, Nick’s got style. He simultaneously relived the idea he was holding back. “Go for a blind date”



"I can’t even think of going on a date with someone I know and a B-L-I-N-D  D-A-T-E?”

“Exactly, that is why! Even if you blow it, no one comes to know. I’m sure your blind date would be glad to forget it as well. It’s the least risk option you’ve got. Accept it dude, someday you got to get over your fears - school boy fears” he jeered at me once again.  

Well yeah! He put it all right. Those were my worst fears. Time and again I have wanted to ask a girl out. I don’t have to say that I didn’t manage to do it in past 24 years.  

With days passing over monotonous guy talks, more I thought about Nick’s idea it started making sense to me. I didn't wish to be the guy with a clean past - read failed at arranging love, hence perfect arranged marriage material. I didn't wish to be a Mr.I-have-no-secrets either. I didn't wish to be a stud with a good grades, good job, fat pay check and no girl. I had my commitments towards my raging hormones too.

I decided upon a Blind Date agency called DOVE, brought to my knowledge by Nick. He couldn't have chosen any agency with a worse cliché tagline. Find your true love - go for a Blind Date through Dove, that is what the agency professed. I wondered if along with their ostentatious and audacious promise of true love there came a money return policy.

I filled out the form honestly, keeping all pretensions at bay, going for extremely general qualities in the section meant for my dream date. The only particular trait that I mentioned sheepishly was that I had a special liking for the Chinky Babes. I owe it to the several Korean movies that I saw while still in hostel, when all of my friends used to go out with their dates.



So, I was finally awaiting my blind date in a fairly expensive restaurant. I wanted to put a good first impression after all, because there was hardly any chance of a second date if this one didn’t go well. Still nothing could stop me feeling upbeat about it. Maybe their tagline really got to me. The visuals of my perfect date were running wild in my head - me sipping a vintage wine with a finely dressed up lady - looking into each other eyes – holding hands - yeah - it had to be love at first sight.

Yet after a while it’s just me left to a solitary misery, sipping orange juice minus vodka, for an eternity. I couldn’t stand the gloomy restaurant anymore and decided on taking off my Ray-bans if my date didn’t arrive in another 5 minutes. You see, I was hoping the sunglasses would hide my squinty eyes and accentuate my high bridged nose for my date to notice. 

After countless shifty glances towards the entrance and then the folks surrounding me, combing for my date through semi darkness, I took the Ray-bans off and stared at the entrance starkly. Yet, there was to be no sign of my date.

The restaurant was packed by now. And it was well past 1 hour of the stipulated time. I started looking more carefully at the singles occupying the tables. There weren’t many and just two girls. Neither of them fit the description I was told about. She would be wearing a mauve coloured shirt and a white skirt, I was told for identification. And from her details I knew she had straight jet black hair, black eyes and was of north-eastern part of the country. Hence, she was expected to bear resemblance to the Chinky babes. I went up to the reception and confirmed whether I was shown the right table for the rendezvous with the stranger. 

As I was returning back to my table, totally dejected , wondering if my date had a look at me and slipped out quietly,  I saw a slender figure with jet black shoulder length hair. Solitary and seated diagonally opposite to me in another corner of the restaurant.

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The Room 102 Story

Act II:

The door bell shrieked.
Scenario 1:
The sweat dripped profusely. Her heartbeat raced faster than time. The time had lapsed into submission. She decided, it is better to give up.

She gingerly inched towards the door. Pangs of guilt enveloped the innocence that wanted to scream. The teak monolith glared at her, suppressing a wooden laugh. A knob overturn and it's all over for her.

Scenario 2:
The sweat dripped profusely. Her heartbeat raced faster than time. The time had lapsed into submission. A steely determination still lay somewhere within her inner being.
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