Hey dad! Welcome to your tape.I would forever be indebted to you because I inherited your love for reading. And thankfully enough I inherited only that and nothing else. And sorry dad, your tape ends here. (True Clay Jenson fans would understand this!)
Ever since I was a kid, I have always loved the smell of new books and whenever I got my hands on one I ensured not subjecting my gluteus maximus to any kind of voluntary or involuntary action until I “finished off” with my new found love. The ramifications of which can be witnessed till today if you happen to see my rear. On that note, I lost my virginity to paperbacks many many years back. That has been my only drama free and hassle free relationship ever. And that’s why it probably continues to this day despite several years of domestic violence like staying in my dirty cupboards, getting food and water and what not spilled over and being thrown at during times of my mood swings.
My love for reading opened my world, made me travel to exotic places, learn about people and cultures (all the while staying in my couch) and finally made me the person I am today – smart and funny. Please bear with me as modesty is not one of my best virtues. In my last post here, I wrote about how a Greek getaway might seem like a distant dream. But it so happens that it might not be that distant after all… I’ll tell you why
Last week I happened to meet a Greek guy who was in India on a three week tour. Don’t ask me how I met him because “When you want something, the whole world conspires in helping you to achieve it” and that’s exactly what happened. I have always been nd still is an ardent reader of Greek mythology. So naturally when I met him, I started about Adonis and Aphrodite, of Zeus and his endless wives, of Alexander the great and Porus…Okay, I got you, stop snoring already. What I wanted to say is, I had impressed him so much that he wanted me to act as his amateur Delhi tour guide.
Pitstop 1: Hauz khas village on a Saturday night
I could easily spot him from half a kilometer away because he was the only one who was visibly underdressed. In Delhi, it is a crime to step out of your house in flipflops. The weather maybe a scorching 45 degrees but you still need to get your hair and makeup in place. And no one really knows why. Because it’s filthy everywhere and walking on pothole filled roads in stilletoes is more challenging than a tight rope walk. Anyway getting back on track, I took my friend to Social, an overhyped shit hole of a place filled with overdressed people ,unjustifiably expensive alcohol and bad music. So, the whole night was spent in screaming each others’ lungs out in order to sustain a decent conversation. Adding to the misery was his heavily accented English and for most of the time I felt sad because he repeated everything he said on loop and I still wouldn’t get it . Sometimes, I would be so tired that I would just give up and nod my head accompanied by the panacea for undeciphered conversations- “yeah right”.
However, it did not end there…. because when all else fails, there is Bollywood. So finally we decided to get up and join the vast multitude of humanity shedding their butter chicken induced calories to Chitiyan kalaya ve.
Nevertheless it was fun too….A lot of fun actually, that an overzealous photographer wouldn’t stop clicking pictures of us maybe because he felt a white guy doing decent bhangra was one of the rarest of the rare phenomena that had to be preserved in the annals of “Social’s history”. Since no amount of shooing seemed to deter the guy from clicking pictures, I finally went up to him and confronted. He responded by saying “Please madam give one lip kiss to Sir na, I will quickly click a picture” Indians and voyeurism are brothers from the same mother I tell you….
Pitstop 2: Saket Select City mall on a Sunday afternoon
So my friend wanted to have some authentic Indian food and suggested we go somewhere for lunch. I initially thought of Chandni chowk but then gave up on the idea because that would make him believe Hollywood’s version of India. Finally I settled on a mall because they cater to all cuisines in case my friend has a sudden change of mind. So somehow we sailed our way through the massive sea of humanity and managed to find a seat. I felt so accomplished. We sat there with a huge pile of karim’s briyani, sheekh kebab and butter chicken. Somehow this guy seemed to know all these dishes. I was pleasantly surprised and asked him how. He said that he has done his masters from the UK and has been to a lot of Indian restaurants. He also added that he loves butter chicken. I may or may not believe in a zombie apocalypse but I truly believe in a Punjabi apocalypse. These guys are taking over the world like nobody else.
So the day ended with us gorging on food like famished refugees. And when we parted for the day, my friend hugged me goodbye. I noticed a policeman suddenly walking towards our direction and quickly pushed him away. I told him PDA is banned in India. He seemed so shocked and exclaimed , “But this is the land of kamasutra!”. To this I added that we are also a country of 1.2 billion people who collectively consider sex a taboo. Because we were all born out of photosynthesis.
Pitstop 3: My home in Gurgaon
On his last day of the stay , he had asked me to host him at my place and I happily agreed…Because-Athithi Devo Bhava right? (Guest is God). Naah, I aint a saint here…why would I deny hosting a hot foreigner and miss a chance to..err…give him a taste of our culture (*wink *wink). Just kidding! Stop freaking out my readers…who talks like that right? But yeah I do, please live with that. Duh!
So, I made a delectable lunch and some mango smoothie and he seemed to love it. Then I showed him Kabhi Khushi kabhi Gham with subtitles and we laughed so hard that I so wished Karan Johar was there at that moment. I’m pretty sure he would have shot that brainless head of his and saved the world from abominable film-making for the rest of our lives. Anyway, Karan apart, we had a lot of fun through the day…Ahhh Vini Vidi Vici for a reason…Lol! Finally my friend departed and when he did…he whispered….Baby, come to Greece soon, I will host you the entire time you’re there. I was like…Maamma Mia!!!!