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| Time slice |
| Tuesday, March 20, 2007 |
My eyes went to the picture in the frame balanced delicately on the rack of what looked like a slanted book shelf. A typical family picture, one often taken right after marriage, bride and groom, along with the bride's parents and the groom's parents. A set of grandparents were also in this picture, sitting majestically, smiling.
"You look so much like your Mom! I almost forgot how your Mom looked!!" I said with a mild surprise layering my tone. Same nose, same smile, the bride and the bride's Mom looked much like sisters.
"When have you seen my Mom? She has never been to the US?!" it was her turn to be surprised.
"Remember I came to your place in Chennai, those good old days, when were deciding on what things to buy for our trip to the US? Cooker, idli plates, karandis, tavas, yada yada yada?!"
I remembered only very well, like it was yesterday.
Her house in a posh place in Chennai. A tastefully decorated flat [not apartment, I have not been to the US yet]. She gave me orange juice, not water, in a glass tumbler, not a stainless steel one. We met again at Shakes and Creams, a hangout for city teenagers, my first time there. She came by in her car, while I reached there by bus.
I collected all my questions about shopping, noted it down, and asked them to her one by one.
"What is a windcheater?" "How many sweaters?" "What shoes?Reebok?"[It costs Rs1500? Really?] "Where did she shop for jeans?" "Where is Shoppers Stop?" "How many tshirts?" [a little awkwardly] "How many undergarments?" [Do we really need 15?] "How many socks?" "Where did she get her snow boots?" "Do we really need thermals?"
The list went on and on.
"How much money in traveller's cheques?" [My Dad was going to give me a palsy sum of $1100] "Which airlines was she flying in?" "Do we really need to be there that early?"
We lived in the same apartment in the US, close to the university. I gaped in awe when I saw the contents of her suitcases, once. She even had a whole bundle of tissues packets, neatly stacked. Her wardrobe was akin to what I have only seen in movies.
Our lives would almost be the same in the US. We get paid the same. In fact I would get paid a little more than her, me being a fellow and all. We would go shopping together, buy similar clothes from the same chain stores. We go to the same restuarants. We go and buy similar looking cell phones, [my very first one] one fine October morning.
At some point we even got comfortable enough to share our special feelings for the special someone in our lives. She asked me once," Do you have feelings for him?" Him being my present husband. I remember vehemently shaking my head in absolute denial. I consoled her in the awkward way I knew, when things did not go well for her in her life.
Now almost six years later, from the time I knew her first, we work in the same place, live in the same apartment complex. We bump into each other at Borders pretty often, discuss taxes, travel tips, and plans of returning to India. I with my husband go to their place. To watch the World Cup. To watch India lose pathetically. I made Idli, chutney and sambhar. She made Upma and paneer.
My eyes went to the picture in the frame balanced delicately on the rack of what looked like a slanted book shelf.... |
posted by SK @ 8:40 PM  |
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| 3 Comments: |
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I forgot this girl's name di..oh ippa orae apartmentaa...cool:-)
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Hm, out of curiosity ;) is this supposed to depict what/how much has changed or that nothing has changed?
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Hey J, amam :--) Its fun.
Altoid,
As I said earlier, :--), its about how two people from totally different sectors are the same in this country. Its about howeven though some things have changed drastically, some have not. I dont know if I make sense.
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I forgot this girl's name di..oh ippa orae apartmentaa...cool:-)