Of Books, Clients, Couples and Other Unrelated Things

Please note that I will be referring to the couple as a singular entity in this post, for two stupids together maketh a stupid couple.

So.

How stupid can the couples get? And by couples I mean NOT the married kind, like yours truly, or the serious couples who intend to stay together, but the dating and ‘taking things slow’ and ‘seeing where it goes’ kind. Ugh. The thing with such couples is they are way too predictable. For my liking anyway. It’s annoying, even maddening to be around a couple these days. First, these days they come in special nauseating variety that takes the entire concept of PDA to a whole new level of gross. Second, they lie about how they met. Jeez! Why somebody would do that, is beyond my scope of understanding. A couple recently told me over a glass of wine, that met at a painting exhibition in Mumbai, which is a grand lie. I know because the girl saw the guy in one of the conferences in Delhi and asked me (I was in the same conference too, yes) to get his number so that she could dial a ‘wrong number’ and talk to him. Cheap trick, but I helped and two months later this is what they tell me. She probably thinks I have amnesia of the thousandth degree and I don’t remember her drooling over him and two other guys in that conference. I stared at her for like, 5 seconds, giving my best wide eyed look, but she just smiled and clutched the guys hand with affection. I emptied my entire glass in one gulp.

Then there’s this guy I know from work, who started dating his girlfriend’s best friend recently, and the how-we-met-each-other story they go around telling is that they met at work - she was the client and he, the account manager at the ad agency. Would have been cute, if it was true. I mean, I understand if he feels a tad embarrassed to tell random people that he first cheated and then ditched his previous girl for her best friend, but lying to someone who has received phone calls from your hysterical ex trying to find out what went wrong, is a bit of a stretch. Really.

And this is not all, I know loads of such bright and / or delirious couples who go on and on about a totally fake story of how they met. What is interesting though, is the length to which they are willing to go and make a story up. Sometimes you see genius calculated planned story that covers all loopholes, at other times you witness a lot of imagination and Bollywood-y fantasy in the stories. You smile and nod politely. And of course there are the lazy-ass couples who don’t make any effort in trying to think of something even remotely believable even to a complete stranger – and then some who just produce a different story every time they are asked – Hey, how did you two meet dude?

Liars, that’s what they are. My theory is:

• If they say ‘Our Parents introduced us, you know!’ - they actually met while lurking on an online matrimony site

• If they say ‘We are childhood sweethearts!’ – they actually met through friends who set them up on blind dates

• If they say ‘We met at a conference’ - they actually met at a random party when they were both drunk

• If they say ‘We met through common friends’ – they actually met at a bar where each one had gone looking for lowe

• If they say ‘We met at a bar’ – they actually met online which could be one of those chat rooms, or Orkut even, you know, because studies have revealed that about 9% of people on Orkut aren’t psychos who want to call u for a meet and then kill / rape you, so there’s no need to be such haters, you guys. Jeez! *rolls eyes*

• And , if they say ‘We met online’, then either she is a hooker or he is a male-hooker, you know.

True story.

My conclusion is –stop believing what they say about how they met each other. That is, if you care as much as I do about these lame couples. I mean you could just not give a fuck and be happy, right? Seriously, why do I give a damn about it, again?

Whatever.

Before I end this topic here, I have to say that rare as they are, there exist couples who don’t care about the world and what people think about them. There are people in love and for them, love is all that matters. I’d like to write about them sometimes, too. But then I’m the one who was once fondly known as the Anti Love Guru, so what do I know, eh?

Moving on to the next unrelated topic - clients. Lately the clients have been driving me crazy. C.R.A.Z.Y. This week especially sucked big time and the only reason I can think of to not throw my hand up and run away screaming is that I have it better than those people repairing my tin roof every day. Them and the dead people – I am better off than both I guess. So that’s a relief.

Somehow I am always working and there are days when I can barely log-in to my Twitter and see if some one’s missed me. Lame, I know. But that’s not the point here – the point is, I have somehow managed to get neck deep in work even while working from home on my own clients. My. Own. Clients. Remember all those times when I cried ‘Freedom!’ when I had just stopped working full time? You’d think I’ll keep in under control now with no boss, my own rules and my own clients. No sir. I have completely lost it and I am constantly slogging my ass off.

Um. This is where I stop discussing work – I have a feeling a couple of clients secretly love my blog and we don’t want to upset a reader now, do we? On to books now. I haven’t read a single book, let alone complete one, for about a zillion years now. No, really! I started reading ‘The Ladies No.1 Detective Agency’, smiling at the thin book every time I picked it up thinking ‘Oh I’ll finish this baby in 3 days.’.

It’s been a month.

And to clear doubts, it is not a bad book in anyway. It’s not brilliant, but come on, I’ve read a few crass Indian attempt at chick-lit for Gossake! In my good days, I would have finished at least 4 books by now. Now you see how much I’m missing out on because of stupid work?

Anyway, I finally got the perfect escape Blogadda asked me if I would judge a contest for them, called ‘My Oldest Book and its Memories. ‘Affirmative!!’ I shouted and click-clicked my way to the contest page. Blogadda, along with Friends of Books had created a contest so delicious, that I kicked myself mentally for not participating in it. All I had to do was dig out my oldest book (which BTW, is older than me by almost a decade), write about the memories attached to it (Stealing it from my uncle one summer afternoon when I was 9) and who I’d give it to (no one) and if possible, post a picture of the oldie but goodie book. But the well established fact by now is, I was buried in stupid work.

After reading more than 30 blog posts by a really talented lot, I was kind of relieved I didn’t participate. I picked out the winners and wondered about the state of Indian Publishing Industry. Hmm. There must be a deep deep DEEP reason why, despite having a pool of such unmatched talent on the blogsphere, we are only publishing the really inane ones. Maybe it’s a conspiracy by aliens to invade the planet. Can’t think of any other reason, really.

The Trouble With Dreams

Is that they are not real.

And no matter how much you want to believe in them (in order to make them come true like the old saying goes), some are just too silly to believe in. Don’t know about you, but realizing that the silly ones will probably never come true, makes me want to pout and sulk. Like the dream I had last night. I was swimming in a river of noodles – mainly the regular spaghetti type with an occasional Pad Thai (the flat ones). I was doing pretty good, considering the fact that I cannot swim in real life. I think the aliens taught me to swim, because they were cheering me from the other side of this river. Just when I was about to touch the banks, the aliens got angry and threw three blackboards at me. I laughed, stupid aliens. But then Lily (from How I Met Your Mother) said “You can have all my clothes if you swim some more.” And we high-five each other standing on the bus top.

This is when I woke up, I think, because I said to myself – Dude, Lily has awesome clothes but where am I going to keep the black boards? Confusing? You bet! Amidst all the turmoil and confusion, I find myself repeating the line of a poem I once read.

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

Phew. It is an exhausting experience, this bizarre dreams throughout the night thing. Yes, for some reason my sleep is ALWAYS crowded with dreams. Black and white, 3-D, Third person, aerial view invisible-me and some more – I dream in all formats possible. It’s a part of me, and I don’t complain anymore because most of these dreams are crazy fun. But like I said, the trouble is they will never come true. And you’ll agree if you I tell you a little about these dreams.

You are standing in a huge green field, smiling. You start to run, to feel the air in your hair and your best friend in class 4 runs with you, holding hands. She begins to pant and you stop for a glass of water but the animated dog is also hungry so you give your water to him. He flies away after licking your face. Your friend nudges you and turn toward her, only to see Jude Law eating a bar of chocolate. Maybe he’s hungry. You shrug.

You are burning down a old house but it starts to rain. Rudy, the scary T-Rex from Ice Age - 3 also looks upset. Your husband holds your hand and says, “I am sorry, but I had to make it rain because we are going to Rome and they need water.” You nod, People in Rome are more important. You relax and read the newspaper. It says that the book is awesome and you smile.

Dobby is adamant not to step away from your hair dryer. You get angry and want to push him, but you don’t want to touch him, he’s kind of creepy. So you throw the remote control on his head and Jack Sparrow comes to his rescue. Sarah Jessica Parker says “It’s so cute” and picks up Dobby. She runs and her deep blue dress trails behind her. You look at her in horror, the dress is a treasure! And you should not look back because Jack Sparrow has summoned the girl in green shorts from TC, Priya, Delhi, and you wouldn’t want to laugh at her on her face, right? You walk away.

You are standing on the roof of your school, looking over the Mumbai Sea-link. It’s so beautiful, you dig out your phone from the huge orange bag and go to the camera. You take a crooked picture of the London Bridge and jump off the roof and fly, going up up and up in the blue sky. You land on a nearby mountain and break your 5 inch heel. ‘This is a bad dream’ - you think and fly towards the huge Book store. The aliens are getting out of the rectangular space ship. The tiny one waves at you. You ignore it. You don’t trust aliens.

Your internet is not working. You crib about it to Gandalf but he is busy eating the cookies you baked. You go to an Army party with your husband and they serve gummy bears. You hold the warm hand of your husband and chew on the red gummy bear happily.