Do you know what I did this summer? contd (4)

After my controversial encounter with my OG. Next were my fellow trainees. We are four trainees in HR department including me . I was supposed to work on same project with another guy trainee from MDI , Gurgaon. The other two were girls . So initially I showed least interest in them . I mean even if I am good friends with them I always think - "What is in it there for me ?" .

To come to think of it girls are kind of useless (except for obvious reasons ). I mean most of them don't have a credit card unless they are working professionals. Whenever I want to book tickets online , I need to take help of my dear friend Vivek.

Then most of the times they will not have sufficient balance in their cellphone. They will always end up giving missed calls to their boy- friends and boyfriends. Imagine how the guys manage more than one girl at a time. To top it all they will lose something or the other valuable - say wallet , gold chain , keys , sanity...

Another problem with female community is that they don't play COUNTER STRIKE thus they never understand he thrill to be shot at any moment that too by a machine gun . Also women fail to comprehend that such games are the only other reason that can keep men awake whole night . I guess many of my girl-friends actually want to destroy games like Travian and NFS Pro Street for keeping their boyfriends away.

Cricket and Soccer may be watched by many girls but only few would miss office because they were depressed when MANCHESTER UNITED lost. Well my OG( organisational guide ) did that. I also think most of the girls don't have a blood red colour T- shirt with " C . Ronaldo " printed on back.

I can write more but for now this much is enough ... take care girls...

Do you know what I did this summer ? contd (3)

Coming back to myself, I went to my room. It had a double bed with two extra folding beds on the sides and four cupboards neatly placed in sides. A dressing table and just one visible charging point (the other two were discovered later by me ).We were four people living in that P.G. and to be clearer, we were four people sleeping in the same room.

"Oh! That’s great beta! You will be sleeping with three girls .Now I have no worries.”

"Yes mom! Lucky me!"

Granny auntie occupied another bedroom .It had a TV, two windows and a double bed. We could use auntie’s bathroom whenever we want. I think mom was also happy that I can take a shower with granny auntie but she didn’t comment on it.

Also I could see a cooler in the closed balcony attached. Our room had no windows. So I nicknamed it “THE BOX”.

First day@ office

I reached office at 9am sharp. Then I found a comfortable blue couch outside HR Department and decided to spend rest of my time there. I guess even the company people had the same plan for me.

I sat there for 4 hours. Till then I slept a bit, wept a bit, got bored, slept, talked on phone, and got frustrated, wrote a poem, slept .All this on that blue couch. I was feeling like a hungry, formally dressed, long haired beggar.

Then I was introduced to my organizational Guide (O.G.).

Have you ever thanked god for granting your wish just when you need it most. Well when I saw Mr. Siddhant Kapoor, I did thank God a lot. He was 27 years old, handsome young man, stood 5feet 9 inches tall and with a slim build. What more do you need as a summer intern. Now my four hours of sufferings bore fruit. God tussi Great ho.

“Dil kho gaya ho gaya kisi ka , ab raasta mil gaya khushi ka, aankhon mein hai kwab sa kisi ka , dil kho gay aho gya kisi ka …

Rishta naya rabba dil choo raha hai kheenche mujhe koi dor teri or…”

“Hello! Miss Bakshi. I am Siddhant Kapoor your OG. Sorry to keep you waiting, we all were in a meeting with the HOD.”

“Oh! Ya! That’s what everyone says.”

“What?”

“Nothing!” “I was telling that in these recessionary times it’s so hard to keep the annual profits on track.”

“Oh! That’s what everyone says.” “Come with me, I will show you your cubicle and explain you the work.”

We walked from my blue couch towards the HR department. And he held the door open for me.

“After you”

“But you are my senior.”

“And you are a woman”

“No I am not”

“What?”

“I mean I am a woman but at present I am not.”

“Huh??”

“I mean in my professional life I am not a woman.”

“What is your profession?”

“At present - working under you.”

“I mean with you.” “Haaye rabba !” “I am sorry. Didn’t mean a thing I said.”

He laughed and then continued-

“It’s OK. I think you are just a bit nervous. Gather yourself; in a while you will be meeting our DGM. And she is a woman, even in her professional life.”

Then he gave me the most beautiful smile ever. He looked so confidant and look at me - dumbass. I told a handsome guy that I am not a woman.huh!! I should actually write -

“How to be a man and loose a guy in one day”.

This happens to me every time I have a crush on a guy. No matter how hard I try to stop myself, still I show them some exhibits of my extra intelligence and petite nature.

I guess to start with SK - KB , not bad....

Do you know what i did this summer ? contd..

You know why girls avoid getting married in a joint family. It’s because more the people, more kalesh. I mean fights. So here is the truth .My mom and my chachi have a love hate kind relationship, although they live miles apart. One in India and another in Andaman and Nicobar .One lives in the same city as the Prime Minister and another in same city as THE SUN.I belong to Jodhpur called the “Sun city”.

The moral of this unsaid story is that both of them were upset with each other with a reason they both did not know. And I was happy because now I need not spend my weekends with my Chachu's family and show my family bonding skills.

I had to join on 1st April so I packed my bags on 29th and we three musketeers – my mom, my chachu and me, discovered our way to Ghaziabad. It sounds like Baghdad, the land of mysteries.
While I landed on this uninhabited land, we had to cross the border. Just the change of auto rickshaw and there you are in Pakistan, I mean UP.

My paying guest accommodation is in Kaushambi. And for all those who had difficulty in remembering name of mountains in geography, this place is for you. All the buildings here are lookalike of each other and named after various mountains – Malaygiri , Shivalik , Satpura, Govardhan etc. I am about to live in Kanchanjunga apartments.

Flat no. 204 at Chabbra’s . The funniest part is the board that’s outside this flat. It says – “Granny’s Homemade “. Wow! I thought .Nowadays we can even get homemade grand moms. A minute later the other two musketeers broke my India shining dream and explained it’s actually brand name for home made pickle that Chabbra aunty sells.

Finally the door opens and we are welcomed by warm greetings of “Imli”, auntie’s maid servant. Then after initial hugs and kisses of the Punjabi get together, we finally settle down in my room. The house is well furnished with dark brown dusty sofa set covering three walls. They were covered with white bed sheets to keep them clean. On the fourth side; opposite to the entrance is a dining table with four chairs. Behind it is a corner table with a framed picture of a couple; probably auntie’s daughter and son-in-law. Also along with a glass table; there are also six square cushions to add to the beauty of covered sofa sets.

Chabbra aunty is a widow. Her story is like any other story of lost husband and estranged wife trying to stand on her own feet. For this she sells homemade pickle.
The brighter part is that she has two daughters who are doing pretty well but still she is keen on using her business sense at this age of taking rest. I respect her for that. Over the years she has become a miser, to the extreme that our made servant “Imli” sleeps without fan to save electricity.

As soon as my chachu left; me and my mom were reduced to Timon and Pumba ; instead of “THE THREE MUSKEETEERS” . Then as granny auntie was showing us around; I realized that the flat was actually large. It had two large bedrooms, a large hall with a double bed and a descent kitchen .Two tunnel like balconies with semicircular endings. But the only thing that bugged me was that if it rains how will I get wet? I mean the end where balconies meet the outer world was brutally covered and packed so that no foreign air could come inside and we all would feel at home. Whatever the reason may be, dust, pigeons or thieves. No one can stop me from feeling raindrops and smelling rain-kissed earth. Huh!!

“Just for two months beta.” “It will all pass like a short lived crush.”

“What??” “What did you say??”

“I mean; don’t be so choosy beta.” “It’s just two months; it will pass like a wink of sleep.” “Besides after this you are coming home naa.” “There you can have all the rain and all the wind.”

“Yes! don’t worry about me mom . You know how adjusting my nature is.”

Then I thought of all the incidents that proved my survival skills. Amongst all of them my favorite is coping up with my family. Twenty-one years of struggle for existence and now survival of the fittest (because I think my younger sister and brother will soon surrender); I guess I have come a long way.

Do you know what I did this summer ?

After this story they will make me a poster child for – “I know what you did last summer “. Still I am determined to tell my story. I stand 5foot and 6 inches tall with slim built. Oh ! Come on now... Why can’t the protagonist be good-looking? Besides I have long, almost straight hair up to my hips, long painted nails and a dusky complexion that adds to my oomph, convent educated and homely girl. And for those who are thinking this is a matrimonial invitation. Puhleezee !! I am just 22, teetotaler , non smoker , just completed first year of MBA . Every story can’t be an ugly duckling story or about a single women pushing age. Although you will find some traces of both.

So the story is about my summer internship in Delhi. While the students in my college were tensed about their summer internship due to recession, I lay like couch potato in my five pillows, Dunlop bed. Due to my Dad’s social skills that he has inherited from me; I found SIP in a reputed company in Ghaziabad .

To cut short the big saga, assume that I reach Delhi through spaceship. Then while I was climbing the staircase to reach my chachu’s apartment; lightening struck me!! Nope not the real one! It’s just that we are surds or Sikh .And we are not allowed to cut our hair, at least my mom doesn’t allow me to. But Miss Kashish Bakshi ( you can call me cash or KB with love ) got them trimmed on her birthday.

The door finally opened. There she was my lioness mother behind my chachi who opened the door.
"Hi chachi !!"
"Hi dear, good to see you.You seem tired dear."
"Oh no! How can someone be tired after 18 hrs of journey? "
"Come in, come in."

There she stood with love filled eyes as if I have returned from war or my hijacked plane has just landed in the room.

"Mom, good to see you!" And I hug her.
"Same here beta!" Now she hugs me

To make you realize the difference. Hugs are very important expression in a typical Sikh family. We are extreme creatures. We love with our full heart and we hate the same way too. I always thought that the cliché “I can kill for your love and I can die for your love “was actually written by a sardar .

"You have put on weight beta."

Oh my god! This is a wrong dialogue. She should say that I am looking weak .Damn it! I guess she is suffering from Delhi wannabie fever.

"Yes, it’s just that all of my 6 abs have merged to become one .Nothing much." " I guess you too are looking healthy."
"Who me? no way , it’s just the loose fitting of my salwar suit u see."
"Well I see and so does everyone."

After having lunch I prepare grounds to doze off. But there she is waiting to tell me about whose daughter-in-law is expecting and what are they expecting, who complemented mom, whose daughter ran away with driver and which girl caught a big fish so on and so forth.
After half an hour of grilling gossip session I tell her the truth. Nope I am not pregnant , for god’s sake I am conservative in actions . I m just telling her about my hair goof up.

"Mom I have to tell you something that will upset you very much."
"What’s it? You are indebted?"
"Nope!" "I am not in debt ."
"You have lost your diamonds?"
"No mama."
"Some guy is involved?"
"For heaven’s sake stop it. I lost my white purse in the hostel." " It had thousand rupees, some silver jewelry my pan card and I don’t remember the rest of the things."
"Were the rest of the things made of diamonds beta?"
"No mom! Here, I am wearing your diamond earrings." " I have to get myself kidnapped to fulfill your wish to lose them."
"Oh! That’s sad you lost fifteen hindered rupees.":" You are so irresponsible."
"Mom it’s thousand, you are used to exaggerating wherever money is concerned." "Besides there is another thing I need to tell you."
"Some guy is involved."
"No mom! I got my hair trimmed."
"Oh Kash ! this is not right." "Now your sister will also follow you."

" Anyways have I told you about Mrs Verma’s daughter?" " She ran away with their driver."
And the story goes on …..

My mom has always been a real Leo .She is fierce and passionate. But I guess over the years I have learnt to handle her. I still don’t understand how can she be so cool about my almost haircut. I guess thanks to Mrs Verma’s driver. Love conquers all. And I have to call my sister to tell her the story. We are such a story telling family.