One Wednesday in January 2007
“What do you want your woman to wear?” her questioning voice came over the phone. I hesitated for a split second. It wasn’t a question I had expected.
“Oh! Just wear what whatever you are comfortable in… (A quick afterthought…if you prefer wearing jeans and a top then that will do just fine!” I said (I bit my lip as I was about to mention that that was my favorite outfit for a woman anytime, anyplace but thought better of it .)
“Or I could wear a skirt too and a noodle strap top, if you like?” came her quick reply. (I was very soon going to learn that I would be at my wits end as her answers hit back at me like quicksilver and bang on target!)
“Oh! It’s totally cool; just wear your jeans and something comfortable. (I wasn’t about to confess that it would be a good idea not to wear her noodle strap top otherwise it would be difficult for me to communicate with her, what with my prying eyes resting on her luscious shoulders. And a “Peeping Tom” was subtle moniker I did not want at any cost.)
“I must warn you that I do not look like a typical North Indian with pale skin. I have dusky skin and a little acne on my face, so if you are expecting Ms World material, you will be disappointed” she said matter-of-factly. (Help! What was the most appropriate answer to this announcement? I made a mental note to contact the Editor of Men’s Health Magazine to fire his columnist who so generously doled out some dating tips in last month’s issue.)
I decided to go with the truth instead. “Well acne does not bother me and I think a dark skinned woman is more attractive anyway than a fair one.”
“And I don’t wear any make-up, am usually casual in my dressing, even to work. I just tie my hair, wear my jeans and T-shirt and am ready to take on the world of work!” pat came the reply. (Was I supposed to say something back? Now my phone was becoming hot and my ear was on a slow-burn. Heck, I could even feel it blushing!)
I went with the truth again. “I am not too enthused about make-up (as if I wore it myself!), just come as you are, I know I will like what I see.” said I.
“You sound like a guy from another planet. Are you for real?” that mercury-skimming reply again, only this time with a smirk.
I paused briefly. (What was I supposed to say? This girl was reading my moves like a book and the conversation seemed to be turning into a chess repartee of words, with me on the heavily losing side.)
“Well…hmmmm… I don’t know about me being from another planet, but what I have told you is true about the make-up and dusky skin tone. Was I sounding too sincere? I wondered.
“There is one other thing…” her lilting tone dropped suddenly.
“Err…Yes...” my tip-toe reply.
“After we meet and spend some time together, you will have to tell me, if you like me or not. Even if it means you don’t like me… I know I will be hurt but I can take it. But you must tell me. Is that alright with you?” the tone had not changed. Did I detect some fear or pain, I wasn’t sure.
“Don’t worry, just come as you are and be yourself.” I reassured her (not that she needed it.)
“Okay, see you on Saturday, then!” she replied mellifluously. The phone fell silent.
I sat there for a long moment staring at the phone and replaying in my mind’s eye the turn of events that had brought my life to this moment.
Three years ago my life had changed irrevocably and beyond the realm of any decision I had in my control. I had been transferred to a new job in another city and I was struggling to find my feet. My job was fine but my social life was nothing to rant about. Reading I know is a friendly activity of the lonely but I was also a serious runner logging up to 60km a week. Each night my solitary foot-falls ricocheted off the gravel around my neighborhood with an I-Pod, my only running companion. I did not know why I ran long distances, but it made me peaceful, made me feel like I was outrunning the voices in my head and like I was winning. I liked my uncluttered life, it was simple, manageable and without undue surprises, and I tried to be grateful by not being cynical.
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