Angreji

I tried resisting. I really did. Even went to the extent of counting backwards from 100 whenever it happened. Looked the other way as much as I could. Told my brain to stop registering. Told my conscience to shut up and stop coaxing me to be honest to my sarcasm. But all in vain. My fingers have been itching, my eyes twitching, just to get one, okay, two, no some, alright almost all of the "wonderful" experiences on to paper. If you have not guessed till now, it was yet another day out in the marketplace of this beloved city of New Delhi. Lets not get our hopes too high expecting some rabble rousing tale, its just a couple of anecdotes I thought would be worth sharing.

After having Converse's brand drawn through the mud, and my shoes' ego dented on the last outing, I had decided to slip on a pair of Nike sandals and give the shoes a breather. I figured if am going to be branded in this show-off town, might as well quieten people with a brand they recognise - Nike - nah, am just kidding, I just want to wear them out so that I can get myself new ones ! A boy's prerogative you see. We, by societal norms, are not allowed to have multiple pairs, since an extra pair of anything would raise such boohawkie that you'd either get the single-brow-fish-eye look or a slight shake of the head sideways showing apparent disappointment. Anyways, getting back to the topic, so ambling around the market, with my guitar swung around my back, I am trying to figure out how exactly mom convinced me to go out with her in the scorching heat! We walk into CTC plaza - it made me wonder even strongly, WHY exactly did I nod and agree to come ?! Now, in Delhi, CTC plaza has some the most exquisite designs in ethnic Indian wear or something of the sort, so obviously you'd have women and girls from almost all walks of life pouring in. And trust me on this, but guitars and sarees just DO NOT MIX - I felt misplaced - a guitar on my back, and browsing through the latest trends in the female apparel industry ! MAY GOD HELP ME !

We climbed downstairs, into the suit-piece section. While mom discussed the latest arrivals with the attendant, my mind wandered, blank, with probably a monkey playing cymbals inside and doing a backward flip every five seconds. I had decided to shut down completely but then a voice rang - shrill as siren for the 7 o'clock morning factory call. A newly wed maiden - so apparent from the million bangles endorsing her hand, all bright red, and a blotch for a bindi on the forehead, was discussing the colours of a clothpiece with her mother-in-law. She goes, "mommy ji .. iska colour chudiyon se match nai hoga .. chaliye na .. koi aur colour dekhte hain .. nai to kahi aur hi chalte hain .. yahan to colour hi nai hai woh wala" - am not going to translate it, since I do not have any foreign readers. I have just one simple question for that really good looking newly wed bride - what cost more - the bangles or a friggin' expensive suit? Answer that question and you'll understand the colour of which item should dictate the purchase of which. Now I know there are a couple of girls reading this right now and judging me on my ignorance, but come on - how can you be so picky and choosy for a minimum Rs. 1000 purchase based on what you got for around 50 bucks ?!

We moved on, and a lot of other stuff happened, but am going to resist talking about it. Its hard. But it needs to be done. Must resist. Fight back. Too hard. Argh ! But I would like to share a little secret with you - on how to approach shopkeepers in Delhi. As Indians, we probably value the language of the Queen more than our mother tongue, which is why when we walk into, lets say a Vodafone store, what gets uttered is "Hi! I'd like some information on a new SIM caaaaaad" - yes, the "card" becomes the American accent caaaaaad, instead of "Namaste! Thodi information chahiye thi SIM ke baare mein" ! The reason is simple - you talk in Hindi, you automatically get labelled a gawaar, and the moment you blurt out even a single sentence in English, no matter how badly strung together with a disgrace to the name of conjunctions and prepositions, you get put up on a pedestal, and the motto of "customer is God" and aspiration of customer service kicks in. Our slavery never left us ;)

I bet you're sitting there smiling either at how wrongly you think I have gauged the situation, or going, "Yeah, that has happened with me too". But, beware, there is a catch. While an air of sophistication is presumed around you, because of the English, it may just backfire at times. I walked into a Nikon service center looking for a replacement for the protective covering of my D80's LCD display. After a 10-minute effort to explain, the attendant understood, and took out another D80, slid the cover off its LCD screen and placed it in front of me with a smirk. Smart, I said. When I asked him how much it would cost, a simple 350 came out of his mouth, and the retort to my calling it expensive was, "camera bhi to mehnga hai" - since when did a square inch of plastic come for 350 bucks ?! I gave him a piece of my mind in Hindi. He immediately dropped down to 250, realising am not the kind who just walk out of their AC cars, stereo on full blast, unfortunately listening to Backstreet Boys (still !!!!), and am one of the regular blokes who knows English but can measure him up with his Hindi as well! :)

Am not bragging, but yes, today I learnt a valuable lesson. Go around, and present yourself as per the person you're dealing with. Sometimes it pays to be a dehati even when you walk into a posh showroom, and at times being a stiff-nosed Englishman is a big payoff when going to a grocer's.