DippyBlogs (dippyblogs) wrote,

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A dedication

Tomorrow is my flatmates Bday. Yes, M adds another year to her life. More experience, and though she hates it, it is also an occassion she enjoys and looks forward to. So, as a gift to her, I decided that I will blog about HER today. Tomorrow being a holiday for me (4th Saturday of the month), I will be unable to blog for her. This is a difficult topic. To keep it objective is tough, and to look at things difficult. It is more difficult than writing about oneself.
Who is M? No, this is not the M that Agatha Christie talked about. M is a woman from Lucknow, presently working in the same firma s me, in the capacity of an HR person. Passionate about, well, HR and what she can possibly do about it, M spends 90% od her time with this concern, on an average day. Rest of the time? Well, rest of the time she picks fights with her near and dear ones. *evil laugh*
What would be her reaction on reading the above? She will make a fake pout, look dissapointed, and say in her semi sighing, semi (what she thinks sexy) voice 'JM, Tu mere saath aisa nahin kar sakti!'
First Meeting (eek! does that sound too 'lebanese'?): In the hallowed portals of XXXX (my company), she occupied the opposite end of the table where we all Management trainees had met fr the first time. Heck! I did not remember her at all, except as one of the few women!...erm...ok..maybe it was because I was busy checkin out the guys ;)
Soon I saw her join the hostel where I was putting up temporarily. And then during induction Times, those 2 wonderful and boring months when we roamed around with the assigned groups and met at the end of the day, and discussed everything under the sun. Those two months were amazxing, with V, M and me having a great time, a slow and smooth transition from college life to 'work life'. And every day M would return with the same sentence...'tu vishwas nahin karegi aaj mere saath kya hua!' to the bored...oh no not agains of me and V...yet we wanted to know what she would manage to exaggerate and dramatise.
For that is one of the special arts of M - to dramatise the undramatic. To make everything extremely important and, well, dramatic.
Looking at her, well, I dont know what you will think looking at her, because I am so used to looking at her. Objectively, she is short, thin, with short hair.
With an eye on every man in the vicinity (and also not in the vicinity), and an eye open for the suggestion of something remotely like 'romantic interests', M moves on with a number of strings in her wake, pulling along ... her endless tales?

M and me. we start talking, and then dont knwo where time flies. Living close to each other, we know approximately all details on each others lives. f tomorrow I want to blackmail her, I think I have enough and more material to do so...only problem it is, it is a quid pro quo sitation, with a vengeance ;)

To discuss affairs which cannot be placed on a table with anybody, it is not difficult with her, because then we already know whats happening. All we have to do is mention. And then there is no need to explain further. Its like saying - remember Joke no 21? and laugh. because we both know the joke, there is no point remembering it.
We can be very different on many levels, yet similar on many others. To her Metallica is Greek and to me cooking on a daily basis is Torture. To her gaining an ounce is tension enough to start her greying, to me it is all a matter of - was the food good? To her spending on anything means deliberation and it has to be worth it, to me it has to first of all qualify in my opinion, and then, if it does manage that, I should own it!

Perhaps if we would have met each other in any otherway, and not have been staying under the same roof (for the sake ofnot using 'shady' language) perhaps we would not have become so close.
This is the closeness that comes of knowing all details of another ones life, and not about 'common interests'. It is about being there where you are, not about alter egos, but about sharing a life, an experience. It has become important for both of us to talk to each other, put daily significant and insignificant problems and bitch together. It helps that we are in the same company. We can bitch about the same bosses, and work :)
Yes, you can call it a sympathetic club. But being in it, I will say (as M will agree) that its an unusual bond. Calling it friendship will be trivialising it in a way. today, as it stands I can actually call it a relationship of sorts. To exaggerate, perhaps I can go so far as to say we act like sisters sometimes. Giving each other advice, quarelling, getting bugged with each other, helping each other, knowing each others intimate secrets, and it being generally depressing not to have the other one around.

I dont know how this 'bond' will be after we leave this place, and go stay in some other city. But i do know that we will remember it. And if one of stays back, then we will miss each other.

A little senti, this blog is more of a tribute to the 3 women in Ahmedabad whom almost eery auto-wallah recognised. Which dwindled to two, which hopefully wont dwindle to One.

Our life here has had 3 stages : 1. Paldi stage - the hostel, most memorable are the singing sessions there. M trying to force her hands into synchronised movements to beat in rythm, and me singing 'resham ka' and english of Hindi songs to the delighted squeals of them both.
2. Samrajya - the first house we moved into, independently.
3. Stadium - where we (M&I) moved in, after V left, and samrajya agreement expired.
we actually talk of Paldi weather and Samrajya weather...so distinctive hve been the experiences in each of the places.

'M aur main aksar yeh baatein kartein hain
V hoti to kaisa hota
hum saath nahin hote to kaisa hota
woh kisko JM bolti
woh kisko apni nautanki se hansati
V kiske baton se embarass hoti
hum kiske kartooton pe hanste
V uske kis baat par scandalise hoti
aur M uske kis kisse ke saath kisse baat karti
M aur main aksar yeh baatein kartein hain
hum saath nahin hote to kaisa hota.

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