…all my troubles seemed so far away…oh, I believe, in yesterdayyyy….
I wonder how it is that G and I forgot how to spend the “doing-nothing” days together. ‘Coz that’s what had brought us close. That’s what had made us realise how much we love spending time together. That’s what made us think of how much we’d both love to spend our lives together.
So, incidently, that’s what we did yesterday. After months. Maybe after a whole year. Maybe after a couple of years. I don’t even remember when we last did. I don’t think he remembers either.
Lunch at Wenger’s, cheap clothes shopping at Sarojini Nagar, then back to Connaught Place for the hugely awesome Van Heuson sale, then drinks with friends and dinner at Nizam’s, and then the long fun drive back home.
I remember catching the 100 number bus from North Campus and coming to C.P. to meet G. We’d usually stop over at the Art Today gallery. I’d always stop in front of the Tanishq showroom. He’d always stop in front of the Reebok shoe store. We’d both go for the audio show that is put on at the Bose showroom every half hour. We’d have sandwiches and my favourite mutton shaami kababs from Wenger’s. Have always loved the shaami kababas there. Mainly because their kababs taste just like the ones that my Naani makes. DV8, Rodeo’s and Blues were our three favourite watering holes.
So anyway, yesterday we did just that. And it felt amazingly wonderful to do just exactly what we felt like doing. Without any planning. Without thinking of the money being spent. Without having to reach home for something or the other. Without having any pending work to finish for office.
Oh, also among the things to put down here for posterity, is my first experience of claustrophobia.
So, we were walking down Sarojini Nagar, with me entering a shop, getting out and starting to walk back in the direction that we just came from, and G getting extremely frustrated with my awesome directional skills. This, m’dear, is a skill I get from my mother. Saahil and Papa and I had spent our entire Nepal holiday laughing at her forgetting which way we’d come from, and I’d laughed the hardest – so, of course, I have now come by my just desserts. And quite ashamed of myself I am. But, of course – this is all your fault, Ma!
So, anyway, we walked up to the first floor of this tiny shop. And when I say tiny, I actually mean – TINY! It was this little pigeonhole of a room, with racks and racks and frikkin’ racks of clothes all over, and at least 15 girls with either fawning mothers or fawning boyfriends helping them select clothes. I saw some nice formal shirts that I’d liked on a mannequin downstairs, so I reached up to the rack, and was trying to get one of the hangers off it, when suddenly, my head went all dizzy and weird – and I dropped about eight of these hangers (with shirts hanging on them) on this girl’s head. My upper chest, y’know the part that’s just below the hollow of your neck, felt like an iron iron (a clothes iron made of iron, that is – you know the kind that dhobis use – the kind that you put coal into) had been placed on it. The aforementioned part of the chest hurt, it felt like someone had used up all of the oxygen in the tiny pigeonhole, and my head was staring to feel really funny. Through the haze I hear the shopkeeper telling off the girl that I had dropped all those hangers on. Then I heard the girl complaining that she hadn’t dropped all those clothes – “SHE did”, I heard her say. I remember mumbling a “sorry” before I pushed all the women, their fawning mothers and boyfriends out of the way, and running down the stairs and out of the tiny shop, into the lane outside, and knowing that my face is a bright lobster red, and I could feel my heartbeat all the way up in my throat. It still felt like there was no oxygen anywhere. I looked back towards the shop, and saw my darling husband appear through the hordes of women I had pushed out of my way, apologising and holding all our packets and trying to explain to the guard that his wife (G’s, not the guard’s) had run out not because she had stolen something but because she wasn’t feeling too well. By the time he finished the apologies and the explanations, and reached me, he already had his asthma inhaler out. A few Asthalin-filled breaths and a bottle of water, and getting to the car and putting the AC on, and in another 10 minutes I was fine, and wondering what the hell just happened.
Now, I was one of those kids who scoffed at other kids who would faint while standing in the sun during March Past in school, or in the Chem Lab with the smells. And here I was feeling like I couldn’t breathe, just because I was in a room that was a little bit too small and a little bit too crowded for comfort!
So, yes – this is something I’m going to have to live with. The fact that I did get claustrophobic once. And, here’s hoping I don’t – ever again.
Oooh – and as a continued effort at the retail therapy, bought four nice shirts for myself and a pair of shorts for G from Sarojini Nagar. And then – there was the awesome Van Heuson sale. Men could buy whatever for say, x rupees, and women would get 100% of the men’s shopping bill as a voucher to shop for free. Now I understand that it was a marketing gimmick, and all it actually was, was just a 50% off sale. By targetting the women shoppers though, they pulled off a verrrrry smart gimmick. There were women of all ages who came to the store dragging their husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, nephews, neighbours – whoever – just so they could get Van Heuson clothes “for free”. So, well – we picked out two very very nice shirts for G, and I get to go this evening to pick out my “free” clothes! Yay!!
So yeah – the day was fun. India gate, the President’s estate, talking, my favourite mogra flowers, our favourite cocktail in the world (this one called Don’t Dig It, from Blues), Wenger’s sandwiches, Nizam’s kathi rolls, singing together on the drive back home.
I wonder why we stopped doing this. Good we’re back to doing it again. 🙂
Sitting on the balcony right now, and the sky is overcast with rain clouds, and there’s a cool breeze blowing – and this is the song that’s playing in my head…