I was all of 27. And hadn't gone on a date yet. It did worry me to be honest but I wasn't too desperate. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case with her. She seemed hell bent on 'going on a date'.
It was circa 2004. I was serving a "sarkari" company and was posted in Lucknow. It was a time when Hanuman Sena or Baanar Sena or some other Sena in UP (can't recall their name) used to haul up guys who were found anywhere near 1 kilometer of a nubile girl. Dating was impossible. But she wouldn't have it. She used to pester me for a 'treat' on some pretext or the other. One fine day I had to relent.
But she had a 'small' problem. She wanted to show my photo to her mom before going out. She had a mobile with a 0.3 Mpx camera. Whats more it was a "Sonny". And she intended to put it to good use. Now getting oneself photographed with that kinda camera was dicey. You couldn't tell between a horse and a donkey. I didn't like the idea. As it was I hated being photographed. I still do. But she was getting on my nerves. And again I relented.
She took a snap. I wasn't able to recognize myself when I saw it. But it didn't matter. My verdict was of no consequence. Her mother's was. The snap must have been shown and "approved" seal obtained when she jauntily came to my desk next day and inquired "Where are we going ?" I was glad her mother didn't think of me as a rapist. I didn't say anything.
I was hard up on cash. Had just been to Delhi and spent 2K buying a couple box sets. I had hardly 400 bucks to spare but safety from Baanar Sena was of prime importance. So I chose Royal Cafe, an upmarket restaurant in Hazratganj. A couple of Pizzas would cost 225 bucks and the ice cream another 100. After much deliberation, we decided to have lunch together at Royal cafe coming Saturday.
D-Day arrived and my bike looked as if it was a 1965 model. I hadn't cleaned it since ages and I wasn't going to do it now. I donned my casuals and sped towards my destination. I was late. She was already there waiting. We hastily went inside and I chose a seat with my back facing the entrance determined not to show my face to spies her mom may have implanted.
Soon the Menu Card arrived. I knew I couldn't afford to go ala carte. But I had to ask her. So I said - "you know this place has a great selection of Avadhi cuisine…but…but their Pizzas are really outstanding. What will you have ?"
She thought for a while and replied - "Okay we'll have pizzas."
I confess I didn't like it. Not a bit. Where did this "we" come from ? I had an inkling I was in for bad time. Anyways I ordered and we sat their waiting. I didn't know what to say. My mouth went dry and I started sweating. I was cracking my knuckles and fearing an onslaught from Banar Sena any moment. She waited for 5 mins. and then started.
She - Why are you cracking your knuckles ?
Me (still wandering in Neverland) - Errr, just like that…
She - Cracking knuckles is bad habit. It leads to arthritis.
Me - Oh I didn't know that
I had never cracked my knuckles before. And I still had arthritis. But thought it wise not to elaborate on the topic. Meanwhile the Pizzas had arrived and the waiter was only too anxious to serve. He eyed me with a strange mischievious smile and kept hanging around well after the pizza was served.
She - Why do you wear your watch on your right hand ? Are you left handed ?
Again I didnt have any answer. I blurted something about being right handed and acquiring the habit during school time. She shook her head in disbelief.
Contd. in Part II
