|The Diary of a Desi Girl Volume 1
|Here is the very first installment of The Diary of a Desi Girl, read on and live vicariously through her thoughts and actions.
|by Neeti Dixit
I bumped into her at the Archie's Gallery in the Pacific Mall, Tagore garden. I was looking at their latest collection of silver jewelry and she had been lurking in the card's section. Probably, hunting for a card for her boyfriend was my guess. Pretty that she was and had a fantastic sense of fashion too, I kept throwing secretive glances of appreciation at her. I remembered, my friend's warning me that I might someday get into trouble for checking out girls, when suddenly I felt a hand over my shoulder.
Glancing back I was shocked to see the same girl smile at me. "God, I had landed myself into trouble!" Although, I was clueless as to what trouble my friends were hinting at, but I generally took my friends warnings to heart, just the way they did mine. We had an unsaid rule of mutually accepting each-others' advice in areas of our respective expertise without too many questions.
I somehow managed a smile despite my apprehensions.
"Excuse me, Could you please help me out," the girl asked in the sweetest voice ever. "Sure sweetie," I replied gaining some confidence.
"Umm, can you suggest what I should be buying for somebody like you? It's gonna be a Birthday gift."
"Well, how about a perfume or a piece of jewelry?" I quickly chimed in.
"Oh, no...no...no...It's for a man that I'm looking for.
"Oh your boyfriend!" I exclaimed unnecessarily.
"Nooo, why, should it be? It's for somebody my mom is going around with."
Back in my mind, the expression 'my mom was seeing somebody', was beyond imagination. The generation gap had indeed gotten much wider than I had expected it to, but what hit me harder was the fact that this damsel believed that I could give her the right suggestion. And as if having heard my inner thoughts aloud, the girl quickly added, "You see, I have a feeling that you have an eye for detailing ... It's so evident from the way you dress."
Now that statement gave an instant boost to my self-esteem and could I refuse her the desired help now? Of course not! I went ahead and assisted her in buying a cravat.
Although I intended to leave once the choice was made, out came the second request... "Can we sit for a cup of coffee?" Deep in my heart I had been waiting for the invitation. I was keen upon spending some more time with her. Spending time with young vibrant girls does make you feel young and energetic, so I consented.
Over a cup of coffee in the nearby Café Coffee Day, she told me that she was an architect and an amateur dancer. We clicked like old friends meeting after a long time, but something about her made me feel that she was capable of clicking with anybody and perhaps everybody fell instantly in love with her. Her deep-set jet-black eyes and a beautiful mane cupping her delicate features were just as pretty as what lay within was my guess.
While I was still contemplating whether or not to tell her all that, her cell phone rang. With a brief pause she received it and excused herself in a quieter corner of the coffee shop. Something about her mannerisms told me that not all was well, when she ran up to me, whispered something to the effect of having to leave immediately, smiled, grabbed her bag, the gift and left.
I felt like such a fool... I was angry at myself for having accepted her invitation, just when my eyes fell on her chair. She had forgotten her diary? I opened it to check if there was an address or a phone number of any sort, but realized that it was her personal diary. I debated if I should leave it at the coffee shop but thinking that the guys employed there might not respect the sanctity of this chronicle, I left my phone number and address and decided to carry the diary home.
To be continued...