cuff corollary

Long overdue post, a change in viewpoint from this one here  – Huff, Puff Cuff  . The post below will not make much sense unless you read the one preceding it. The link is above.

Been meaning to write this from the time a comment wondered how the other important party reacted to my inadvertent drama right there under the blazing sun.

Here’s my attempt to get into his head, 20 years later, based on the dreamy faded vision I have of the gentlemen in question. This is what must have transpired in his head. This may also be how he may have thought of the incident. I wouldn’t know, but am sure going to let my imagination run with it.

***

It was summer. Madras was always hot, but this year was unbearable. Or maybe it was me. After spending the last three years at Northwestern and upstate NY, anything above 80 has become unbearable. It’s funny how our bodies get so quickly softened despite long years of conditioning otherwise. Maybe man was indeed meant for luxury and temperate conditions than extreme after all.

Madras is, was and will always be extreme. Am not saying it’s bad by any long shot, it’s been that way for as far as I can remember. I’ve now acclimatized to a different temperate climate, sudden differences in temperature or conditions are but discomforting.

I must sound a pampered NRI, but hey, it is what it is. It is but natural to compare and to whine or not based on our preferences. Nothing untoward about it. Nothing to feel ashamed about. It’s funny that the cousins who came to visit ammamma last weekend snickered behind my back when I complained of the outage. It was a furnace in there, forget me, I could almost see vapors rise out of poor ammamma’s bed!

..and here I am sitting on my old yet shiny bike in the hot blazing sun coz the damn passport office was giving me a hard time with the papers! This is my fourth trip and there’s always someone missing or some paper not copied correctly or something equally inane that prevents the job from getting it done.

As much as I hate the heat, dust and sweat of the summer, Mylapore has always been home. The bustle, the insane traffic of no rules, with the random cow/buffalo taking a stroll right alongside of the autos and the little stores that sold all things puja related spilling over the sidewalks. Mom and ammamma loved the place. Dad didn’t, but poor man, no one really cared for what he wanted. The house was ancestral. That means one day I would own it. One day, I may want to come back here occasionally. As much as I’d like to hop the pond and make my life on the East Coast, who really knows how things pan out. Mom would want me to get married to some girl she would have met at some bhajan group and..

Wait, is that girl checking me out?!

Whoa, she is! Haha, this is er.. amusing. She is checking me out via her rearview mirror on her Kinetic. Cute! Girls are getting bolder these days. Madras most definitely isn’t how I left it, and then this is Mylapore too!

That’s an interesting stance she has on. Why is she clasping her arms behind herback?

Ah! the sun. Right. The poor thing’s getting roasted! Too bad. If only I weren’t in such a crappy mood, I could nod and smile at her. Then again, what is this some traffic light love scene like in the movies? The crush on the overnight Madurai Express sorts?!

Damn.. it’s getting late, why are we all stuck here like this? The light should turn by now!

Yes!

Oh oh! What’s wrong? Seriously? What the heck?  One can actually seriously freeze and not throttle? Okay, this is serious, she is struggling and the idiots behind are honking. Within seconds things are going to escalate and this silly girl is wriggling her hands behind her back? Oh! Oh wait. What the..Okay, if this was any other time, I’d be laughing my guts out, but right now am just really only slightly irritably amused. The girl has locked her arms together and she is stuck.

O alright! Am going to have to go uncuff her.

Ridiculous pieces of jewelry these girls wear. What on earth is this bangle that’s half broken the way it is? Little wonder it gets stuck the way it did! Bah, girls!

Phew, okay done! Her expression was so sad, I almost laughed.

Now we can all get back to our business and continue roasting into charcoal! I see her zip left and I can almost feel her ears turn red hot. This time it surely wasn’t the sun’s fault. Happens when you don’t stick to regular simple bracelets/bangles! Girls and their fashion statements. Ridiculous I tell ya!

***

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9 thoughts on “cuff corollary

  1. haha…are you sure it was a Yamaha? Mine was a Kawasaki…i know you said you vividly remember the face but maybe you got the bike wrong. and I looked very different back then, so ya never know. and nope, I was certainly not dissing your fashion sense, so dont worry :)

    Nice writing as always, made for fun reading.

  2. “In the simmering Madras heat, I waited in my car at the signal at Mylapore. The A/C wouldn’t work and the sweat kept trickling down my back. My face was red; just like the signal. There stood this girl right ahead in her Kinetic Honda trying to see in the mirror, if her make up hadn’t been affected by the sweat that was on her face. Women, I tell you! Now she is craning backwards, like she was tired. Why doesn’t the signal turn Green? Dammit, it’s so hot!
    There’s this guy right next to her. She managed to get someone else’s attention too. But he’s acting too cool for her. Keeps looking away every time she glances his way. Some entertainment, this. And then the signal turns Green. Let’s move on. *Honk* The girl isn’t moving. *HONK* Take your hands off your back, woman! Let’s get going, shall we? *HONK HONK HONK*
    WHAT THE HELL IS THIS WOMAN UP TO?! “Hey! Move ahead or move away!”, I yelled at her. She was fidgeting with her hand. I didn’t want to miss the signal and another *HONK*, a long one. Oh look what we have here! The guy gets down from his bike and goes over to her. What a time to play out a romantic gesture. “HELLO, Lovebirds! There are people behind you who need to get to work. Can we do this later?” I yelled again. My voice got drowned out in the chaotic honks around. Wait, he’s entangling her hand behind her back? The man in shining helmet comes to the rescue of a damsel in distress. What a story I get to view in the middle of the day.
    They both went their own ways. And I was stuck right there. Because the signal had turned Red again. Darn!”

    Very nice story, both sides of it! Couldn’t resist a 3rd person view of it. Sorry. :D

    • Rofl! That was part of the agenda to write a third person, but this is very nicely done and poor you getting stuck behind us! ;-)
      lol@lovebirds. There is no plural :p

      Thanks and no worries, that’s the beauty of writing, to be inspired and start writing without pause :)

  3. Cha, what a let down! I would have expected this guy to have experienced a life-changing moment, gone to Nepal/become a pothead/then joined a rockband-types. Pliss to rewrite :-(

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