A date with Little Miss Muffet

It all started with a call from my worried mother one Friday morning, who is desperate to get me hooked up [read ‘settled’] with someone. She starts beating around the bush a bit, complaining about the weather, how she is suffering from sleeplessness, some sentimental crap and accuses me of being the reason for her worries. I listen patiently thinking what I’ve got to do with the weather and wait for the inevitable; and finally it comes “there is this amazing girl Archana working with an MNC in Bangalore, she is fun to hang out with , good looking and someone who is apt for you” – euphemistic for another old & boring spinster. I say I will meet her on the coming Sunday, takes down her number and hang up.

Its Saturday and my boss calls me to his cabin and asks me what is happening with the files he has allotted to me. I say I will do it by Monday but he says NO and tells me to come and work on Sunday. Seeing no other way I sheepishly tell him I have a “date” of sorts. He looks up at me in amazement but tells nothing and wishes me all-the-best. Next thing I know everyone in my department is giving me knowing smiles and pats on my shoulder. I feel weird and miserable and wait for the day to get over.

Its a beautiful Sunday morning and I am feeling too lazy to get out of bed. But I remind myself about “her” and drag myself out of the bed. I am thinking what to wear, seeing my empty wardrobe I remember I have given my clothes to the cleaners and all I have are my office clothes from yesterday. I decide to wear it and go. After a lazy breakfast I set out to meet her feeling stupid and uncomfortable. I walk into the café where we were supposed to meet and I look for someone who could fit my mental image. A smart girl clad in a jeans and T shirt that reads – “I wish these were brains” gets up and smiles at me. I stare blankly at her. She is all perky and bubbly – shaking hands with me white I stare at her T shirt like a brain dead. She is introducing herself – “Hi, I am Sanjana and we spoke over the phone….”but her voice sounds distant and velvety. I try to snap out of my shit head stupor and was almost tempted to ask her if her name is Sanjana or Archana, but then decide not to.

The daze that started with her intro seemed to impair my senses for a long time. I feel awkward and completely out of place. But she doesn’t seem to be bothered by my awkwardness or by the fact that I have not spoken much. In between the cacophony I hear broken sentences like “…I love poetry….. wish I was an animal activist… intellectual…politically correct” and I keep staring at the palm tree swinging in the breeze outside. Suddenly she perks up and asks me if I have seen Bangalore properly. I ask her what properly means. She tells me she meant ‘off beat’ places like Bannergetta. I say ‘no’. Her face suddenly contorts into an expression of utter disbelief that I begin to wonder if I should have said yes. She wants me to go with her to Bannergetta, and I feebly try to put across the fact that its way too far from the city. She seems unfazed and even more determined to take me there. I finally nod and we are on a bus to the goddamn national park.

In the bus she sits next to me and talks non stop about things I am completely clueless about. I am wondering if this is a dream and if I wake up now she would go up in smoke like the spontaneous human combustion from X files. I try to smile once in a while and end up smiling at awkward moments. She talks about “carbon credit” in an attempt to find common grounds [I think]. I listen but have no idea what that means. She asks me what is my stance on the subject and I stare at her, and smile stupidly. She insists and I say I don’t know what to think about it. She seem to ponder on the reply and look seriously at me. I don’t say anything.

Finally we are THERE, and I give out a sigh of relief. She wants to go for a safari; knowing there is no escape I try to sound enthusiastic about it and there we are in a shabby van with a bunch of smelly people. She tells me the scientific names of most animals we see and I nod without really paying any attention to it. By now all I want is to get back to civilization and tell her to go f*** herself. I don’t show my emotions and she chatters away happily. Mercifully its over and I tell her I cant go with her for dinner because I am going out with my friends. She tells me she would love to get together with me and go for a play or a poetry reading session. I say I would love that and dont bother to hide my eagerness to leave.

I think I will never get a normal girl let alone the idealistic Sati-Savitri types. I seem to attract all kinds of freaks, social-misfits and complete weirdo’s. I have finally accepted the fact that I might have to go for a complete stranger without trying to understand her before marriage. I am not looking for a perfect woman, all I want is someone with whom I can … mm.. ‘relate’ to. May be the ‘behanji’ types might gel well with me. It is both frustrating and fascinating at the same time searching for “the one”.