I love meeting people. I love to observe how people talk, walk, mock [just put it coz it rhymes ;)]. I feel like a little child who is blindfolded and left all by herself in the garden. A garden which is flooded with different flowers whose shape, size, colour I do not know. All I know is that mélange of sweet fragrances that adorn the air. And even if one flower were to be less in the garden, probably it would not have been the same. Every one of us is like that garden. Just that the flowers are different.
Last week, I happened to realize that I had some “legal” issues to put my head into. Now let your mind not race in the wrong direction. Neither am I suing any one nor am I getting sued. It was some stupid stamp paper which I had to get notarized. So I innocently took a printout and gave it to my aunt. [FYI…she is a lawyer so by default my legal [and otherwise] advisor] It was like a turning-the-tables-evidence being produced in the court [I am a lil scared of my advisor, u see] And as I had hoped, she jumped on me like a ferocious lil tigress. “Why is this not typed on ‘ledger’ paper?” she said. I could not help thinking that it was ‘laser’ and my aunt might be pronouncing it wrong. I know its lame and I told myself the same. I put my left hand in my mane [my hand almost getting entangled in my hair] and scratching my head lightly, I asked her “Laser?”[One eye closed, other almost closed…. ready for the next attack] Looking up from the top of her spectacles, with a do-you-think-I-don’t-know look, she said authoritatively “Ledger paper”. Still confused, asked her ,”Ledger as in Heath Ledger?” Everyone just burst out laughing, leaving me scratching my empty head and making me realize over and over again that the head my shoulders were supporting, was really really light.
Sorry for the digression. Back to the topic. My aunt ordered me to go to her colleague’s office to do the needful. I was to ‘report’ to Lakshmi, the typist. After walking in that scorching sun at 11 in the morning, zigzagging my way through all the I-am-fooling-around-because-its-Sunday people on the road, I reached the office which was in one secluded corner of the building. The office door was wide open as I stepped in. When I entered I saw a lady with I-am-from-Kerala written over her face. And the very warm and wide, full-toothed smile that she gave me, was a confirmation of all sorts. Then she gave me are-you-the-one look and before I had finished yes-I-am nod, she turned to her boss and yelped “Saar, she is Hegde Madaam’s niece”. It made me jump out of my skin but Padma was happy to have passed that information to her boss who obvious pressed for details. He was a big old fellow with diminishing ocular and hearing senses. It took some time till he asked what is your name, whose daughter, where do you stay et al only to end saying “Oh Sneha! Now I remember”. Then I was sent back to Lakshmi .
Lakshmi. She was wearing a clean, ironed, but crushed-while-commuting-in-the-train, cotton saree. It was white with a light pink border and small flowers of the same pink scattered over the whole of it with a matching pink blouse. A gold chain rolled around her neck, which she kept fidgeting with. She wore little gold buttons for earrings which went very well with her golden-rimmed spectacles, big aviator glasses to be precise, and gave her the 1960s look. She seemed glad that I was back. She made me sit next to her as she carefully closed all the word documents that were scattered on her computer screen . Then she opened a new one for me, started naming it... looked at me and said “Hegde?” and grinned from one ear to other, “No madaam, we will name it Sneha!” She was a female, happy with her self. I wondered if there was anything in the world that could dampen her spirits.
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