A Day To Remember

'It’s a fine Saturday morning!' I exclaimed. 'Oh shucks, I have to go to work but also I have an appointment with my best friend for some coffee.'

I decided to chuck work for the procrastinator in me. 'I’d rather have the piping hot coffee,' I thought.

I love the word piping, though it reminds me of this complex pipeline system that manages to flush out effluents from our homes. Ok! whatever makes me say that. I decided to wear my usual blue Capri teamed with my favorite pastel pink kurti that I keep wearing every week, no matter what, simply because it makes me feel like a model of a Westside campaign. If my mother knew I was repeating clothes at work, every single week, she’d be shattered. But then, c’mon, I have favorites, and this kurti has become a piece of my heart. I picked it from Westside and ever since it found place in my wardrobe I’ve made sure it clings to me often.

I looked for it in my cupboard, and cursed my laziness, for I do not find it neatly ironed and smelling like it was freshly dipped in fragrant water but clumsily thrown into the laundry bag that was almost overflowing.

Yikes!

The little devil in me tells me ‘Simply iron it and wear it with some perfume generously sprayed. Nobody will know.’

I was out on the streets, wearing my favorite kurti, and smelling like a ‘walking incense,’ only, this was repelling people away.

I called Bhargavi to check if she was going to pick me up or if I should make it on my own. Of course, I ask the former question in a very heart-melting innocent voice because I’m too lazy to go to anywhere on my own, and the always caring Bhargavi pulls in her Honda Activa in exactly five minutes.

“What’s that strange smell?” she asks, looking like a sniff dog.

Err, let’s go quickly. We do not want to be late for a coffee do we?

“Huh? Okay. Whoever says that for a cuppa coffee! Hop on.”

I’m quick to react. I was fiercely manipulating some witty replies, should Bhargavi ask me the “What’s that smell” question again.

My non-used lazy brain, however, could not think of anything. “I’ll just have to use my puss-in-the boots look, I suppose” I tell myself.

Bhargavi is a careful rider and that irritates me sometimes, because she signals her turn at every street, inhabited or otherwise. She also honks at every turn she takes! Man, whoever does that these days. Deep down inside my heart, I’m proud my friend follows every traffic rule and lets every human being on foot overtake her. I smiled at the old granny who just overtook us.

But, I love Bhargavi for all this. I love riding with her. At least I get to admire nature, or gasp in shock at the obscene bill boards or spot a cute guy with the 'Marlborne' helmet riding his Pulsor. I wonder why helmets make guys look cute. I prefer it that way. Really! So, one rarely gets to notice all these beauties, when on a speeding bike ride.

We come to a halt outside Barista and see it is quarter-full (for the optimist in me). Well, which hep-gang comes for a coffee in the morning, anyways? We are 'hopeless' beings and prefer coffee when there is less noise. We seat ourselves on our favorite couch, pastel green and leather.

“So, Naaz tell me why you think there is no life left in you?”

Huh? What do you mean Bharagavi?

“I’m referring to yester night’s phone conversation.”

'Oh, that.' I snicker. That was simply, zimbly you know.

I think I just cracked a light joke.

“Shut up, and tell me.”

With Bhargavi, there is no escape.

Well, err, I’m just frustrated that I’m lonely. That’s it.

“And do you know why you are lonely?”

Bhargavi, please let’s not get into that.

“See, you decided you will be lonely and why do resent it, suddenly?”

Let’s get some coffee first. I’m so scared.

“Ok, chill! I’m just concerned.”

Of course I know that.

“So devil’s own?”

Hmm, yes I guess. I’m hungry and I don’t mind some chocolate. Or, wait I’ll have some frappe. Or, hmm, what about a smoothie man?

“Naaz, decide and then stick to it.”

Bhargavi, you remind me of our principal in college!

“Yuck!”

Ok, so I’ll have a Frappe and Devil’s own.

“Ok, I’m making mine one devil’s own.”

Ok, I’m embarrassed but I have a huge appetite.

“Oh, please. Do not bother about that. We all know that and it never hurt us.”

Yay! By the way, I think we use Ok way too often!

Who cares.

We placed an order for our fill and after a hundred attempts at spelling my name right starting from Jaaz to Naat, the counter guy settled with ‘Baar-kavi,’ “easy name madam” he exclaimed.

Grr!

“Naaz, why don’t you talk to Dev? I mean…”

Bhargavi, chuck it man. Please I beg.

“Oops, sorry.”

Nah, it’s ok.

Just then the door flung open and I saw someone who gave me this weird feeling that I should instantly get down on my knees and worship the man, some Greek deity, in true Greek style. My reaction was pretty cheap. Bhargavi noticed my mouth lying open like a rhinoceros’s yawn and immediately turned to see what caused the phenomenon. Her reaction was a replay of mine. We must have looked like two cheapsters craving for some masculine presence. It took us 15 seconds to come back to our senses. We were terribly embarrassed.

Oh man, what a dirty first impression we made!

I think he gave us this, oh my goodness ‘some cheapos here’ look!

I think I also heard him say “Stop Letching you morons.” I really hope it is my imagination.

My mouth flung open again as he sat down carefully at the corner table. He quickly walked up to the counter and I think he asked for one hot coffee and that’s it.

“Oh no, if my order came anytime, I should look like a pig, eating food enough to feed some hungry villages.” I thought.

“I must cancel my order Bhargavi, it’s an emergency” I announce.

Before she could react I got up from my seat and rushed to the counter, unaware of the waiter emerging from behind the pillar to deliver my order of soul gratifying food.

What happened next was nothing less than a clash of titans. All I could think of was that the Greek God was now beaming with joy! “Serves her right! The letch.”

I hope it’s my imagination again. Bhargavi came to my rescue, flushed and extremely conscious of his presence.

The waiter was cursing me in the vernacular lingo and thank goodness I did not understand a word. I uttered a million ‘sorries’ and ran to the washroom.

Bhargavi followed me and yes, yelled at me though she kept asking me if everything was fine.

“Naaz, I hope you understand that you not only made us look like two fools but also irresponsible idiots.”

I’m sorry Bhargavi, but that guy!

“That guy, grr!”

I’m so sorry Bhargavi.

“It’s okay man. C’mon clean up and get back fast.”

I don’t know how I’m going to face him.

“Naaaaaz.”

He he he. Okay. I’ll be there in two minutes.

“Good girl.”

I came out, all flushed and not allowing my eyes to set on him, a challenge so great that I failed miserably. I saw him sipping his coffee in style and giving me a weird glance. I hope this is imagination. I really hope! I sat down on the couch, my back facing the guy and sipping the smoothie that Bhargavi ordered.

“I think the devil’s own idea was jinxed!”

You could be right.

Bhargavi signaled to me that the cute guy was leaving. I don’t know why, but both of us were instantly sad. And then suddenly Bhargavi was all alarmed and gently whispered that he was coming towards us. I so wanted to run.

And then it happened, he gently bent over and asked Bhargavi “Is everything alright?” in the squeakiest voice we’d ever heard in our lives.

Ok, now we really wanted to run.

“Err, yeah. Thanks for asking.”

He came forward to face me, beamed his smile and I pretended to look alright and not bothered and he bid goodbye, gently. I exchanged a quick goodbye while controlling my laughter. Just as soon as he stepped out, we were in splits…laughing uncontrollably.

“What on earth was that?”

I don’t know.

“Well, so much trouble for this!”

Yeah, yeah! The morons that we really are.