Big things come in small packages

I am seldom overwhelmed by the things that people do for me. Mainly because I have found very few who have gone out of their way to do something for me. That might also be because I don’t let them anymore. I prefer to be the one who gives up on a show that she had been waiting to watch for a long time, the one who is going to let you place the order at a restaurant according to your choice etc etc. And I would do that happily. Well, the reason for that is, I’m more scared that if I say what I wish for, the other person won’t live up to my expectation and I will be, umm, disappointed. So, when someone actually takes that little extra step for me, I am overwhelmed.

To say I’m blessed to have the best colleagues at work, would be an understatement. What with Miss Paul getting up from her much loved sleep at 4 in the night to make sure that I’m back home, and at the same time Miss Praveen consoling me about a stupid disappointment (once again, too many expectations), Miss Jha’s help for almost every other dreaded photoshoot, Miss Kumari’s late night chats even though she’s too tired, a certain ‘grumpy cat’ who will shout but help you out every time and Miss D.

I know Miss D is back at work because there is already a goodie bag at my desk. And yes, I love gifts but why I especially look forward to hers is that there are those little notes that always, always make me feel better (with her deep belief that even though we may progress digitally, hand written notes are the best).

I don’t know how many notes I have till now but I know I cherish each. 22 notes for my birthday alone, a special New Year wish, a letter about her vacation and the things I should do, all this while she is sitting right next to me (well, almost). And I’m not even counting the little ‘Thank You’ notes or the frightful ones about dirtying her desk yet again.

Her notes are special because she never makes my problem obvious. She turns it into a minuscule one in the end (after the whole letter reads about how awesome she is and sometimes, about how nice I am), but that strikes hard. It has always urged me to take a step or refrained me from doing something silly. And when it comes from Miss D, someone who respects privacy more than anything yet knows what pains my heart, it has to be special.

I’m writing this down at 4 a.m. and that shows how important it is to me. Miss D and I have had really innate conversations about life, relationships and of course, boys, as we have waited for a 20-minute cappuccino. And more than often, we have found each other in the same boat. Not ready (anymore) to settle down for anything that is not the best, similar experiences of rejection (sort of) and most importantly, big dreams (always).

As I conclude, Miss D, I direct this letter to you. Thank you for all the gifts but I am grateful for those letters that lift my spirits and bring me back every time. Very few people (read: Miss Paul, one of my best friends from Pune and my ex-boyfriend) have written letters to me and good or bad, I hold them all close to my heart.

That with Miss Paul’s incessant efforts to understand my hopes, my confusions about boys (had to sneak this one in) and my anger and Miss Praveen’s jokes directed at me, texts to check up on me always and companionship for my shopping trips, is what makes me believe that I’m an amazing person to have such good friends. (cue- narcissistic laugh).

A work of fiction based on true events ;)

Boy oh Boy. Things happen when you least expect them to, when you are at your lowest point a high hits you that wins you over, thus restoring the balance of life. Umm that sounded a bit too philosophical. Well, neither was  I at my lowest point nor did any high hit me, yet it seems like just so many things have happened. From a few sporadic interviews to new friends with whom I just randomly came across and the usual chaos in a journalist’s life, there was one particular thing that kept running through my mind. In this sudden turn of events, where from complaining about having no men to even flirt my way around to having a one too many, I still wondered where was that man – the narcissistic, oh-I-don’t-have-time yet classy and sweet one.

As I admired the looks of one of my interviewees, a colleague sitting next to me said, “Oh stop being a flirt all the time.” Umm okay, I’m just 22, a girl who’s out there weighing the options available to her, so why can’t I be one? Hold on, I’m not saying I’m coming onto guys, but what’s wrong with just saying (Mind you, only in my mind), “Hey there you beauty with blue eyes would you be mine?”. Umm on a second thought strike off the blue eyes, a recent encounter with someone with blue eyes actually scared the hell out of me.

So coming back to the point, amidst the “Let’s meet for coffee” and “I just can’t wait to meet you again”, I stopped for a second and thought about the one who would drive down even at 3 in the night and just pop open a bottle of the best scotch around town, say cheers, trick me into gulping it down, yet never ever even hold my hand in case he sends off a wrong signal. I think that’s what struck me about him. He would wander into my dreary days with two glasses in one hand and a bottle of whisky in the other, talk about the randomest things in the world, take me out for a spin and in between two jokes, would just reveal a new side to his personality. But then that’s not what attracted me, what did was how everytime the drunk me would jump out onto the road, the drunk yet alert him would shout and then politely ask me to come back. And as I would request to go to the nearest medical shop (just three steps away) to get more coke to dilute my drink, he would insist on coming with me but on the way would never forget to say “Imagine what people would think, a guy and a girl going to a medical shop in the middle of the night”. As he would be pouring out drinks, he wouldn’t always make one for me, that made the difference. Don’t take me the wrong way, if a girl can drink she can surely make her own drink and sometimes you can “offer” to make one for her.

Now hold on, here comes the part that confuses me. After all that, he would disappear. For months together. So, I have met the guy thrice or just about four times and every time he seems to be a mix of the completely stupid teenager who’s not afraid to go all gentlemanly on girls. But then it all goes out in a poof. I haven’t met him for so many months now, yet sometime as a guy bores me to death I think about the laugh I shared with him. It’s strange how sometimes someone’s annoying ignorance can actually make you want them more. Maybe he was just a guy looking at having a good time and then got busy on his own thing.

And yet here I am, pinging my best friend continuously and just asking if I should or should not text him. She says yes, yet I’m too scared to hit send. Because just like him, even I’m the narcissistic one who just can’t take rejection.

And while I’m typing this down furiously, I’m hoping against hope that I don’t sound like a desperate woman who just wants some “fun”. Nope, I just want the good time I spent with him to visit me more frequently. The little butterflies in my stomach that would go crazy every time someone said his name, to just not be so sane when I hear someone else’s and not dismiss them just for the stupid sms language they use or for approaching me way too easily.

Well, until next time then stranger.