Neera's Noble Intentions

Last week, I bumped into Neera in the mall while shopping for a handbag. Have I told you about Neera? No? Oh, you can trust my forgetful brains for having missed this. Yeah, quite a surprise it was. After all, I had not seen this remarkable woman in the last six years. She was my constant companion in merriment and despair during my stay in Chennai. Well, the credit for instant recognition goes to her since I am the one who has remained boringly same, while her adipose tissues have given way to a lissome Neera. She sure made me feel like an oaf for having let my jaw drop to the basement level. But, it felt good to catch up with an old friend. I was happy to see the sindhoor on her forehead and proceeded to enquire about the aforementioned sign of matrimony.
Well, in case you think this is no big deal, I will have to go back six years in time and space to explain the significance of marriage in Neera’s life.

Neera had always been a romantic girl. A fresh face with freshly sprouted brain. All her life she munched chilli pakodas with Mills & Boon romance novellas and similar gooey books that spoke of nothing but tall, dark handsome guys sweeping the fair maidens off their incredibly tiny feet, and marrying them in an unbelievable manner (underwater, in the barn with pigs singing along, or in a maternity ward with an emergency awaiting and god knows where else!). Of course, finding tall and dark heroes in Chennai was not difficult, but she didn’t trust her mirror, with good reason, to show the maiden mentioned in those books. This definitely ensured a continuous sale of facial bleaches and fairness creams for the near by store.

It was the summer of 2001 – the Chennai sky was still blue, the weather killing the bacteria with free heat treatment, and the sea was as dirty as it is now. Neera had decided that in this overly populated world of boring, unmarried people, she had had enough and decided to move on to the next level. In her household, enticing male population for matrimonial purposes had a traditional touch, with the usual tricks – learning classical music, playing the violin, and of course, cooking. But Neera was a modern girl; she believed these were not the current best practices and had decided to take matters into her own hands.

The one thing I had always appreciated in Neera was her positive attitude. After all, she did her best to influence her fate with a few additional efforts of her own. She believed she had to nudge the luck a little towards her direction and some prince would soon follow. I can recall two particular instances that were the outcome of such efforts.

One evening, as we sat sipping coffee, Neera steered our conversation to my favorite topic – books. Now let me tell you one thing, she not an ardent fan of any literature except for the previously discussed M&B. So, it indeed was a surprise to me that she wanted membership in the library that I was frequenting. I did not have to wonder for long. Apparently, she had spied on several young men entering the building; her grand plan was to join the library, catch the unsuspecting victim’s eye and attention. Knowing her stubborn attitude, I had no option but to do what was told. I got her the membership the next day. She came along with me, completely decked in crepe silk saree and soon, the jasmine buds she wore were spreading their fragrance in those musty halls. For three consecutive days she went through the ritual, scanning with radar like perfection for the bright spot that was to light up her life.

A week later, she came to meet me again, with a huge grin on the face. Upon enquiring, I found out that she had zeroed in on a tall, dark and ‘unconventionally handsome’ guy. She found out the book he was reading; she triumphantly showed it to me – titled ‘A study of socio economic conditions in Orissa post Independence.’ That should have given her the hint but no, there was no place for such hope.
Out came her game plan. She had seen him referring to this book quite often and she felt one way of catching his attention was to leave intelligent comments and remarks on the side margins. (Like in some old story that she had read where the heroine and hero met up thanks to those ‘insightful’ tidbits) Considering her knowledge of economics/sociology was as good as Greek and Latin, I can only imagine how insightful her scribbles might have been. She was confident that in a short while, he would start noticing and then the romance would bloom.

After a week, I did get to hear about it.
Apparently the ‘insights’ had marginal effect on the intended target, but managed to grab the attention of the librarian. She sulked for a whole week for having to pay the fine of 500 rupees and the additional task of erasing her handiwork from the book. I consoled her saying library is definitely a place for nerds and she was better off without one. Thankfully, it only took few days for her to perk up and become the bubbly herself again.

And then there was the umbrella plan.
She had cleverly identified watering holes – where she could confidently leave her umbrella and expect a gentleman to stop her and return it to her. She could envision herself being coy and grateful and that was sure to create a magical moment starting a lifelong journey of love. She would try it first in the railway station. The back up plan included restaurants, and coffee shops.
Of the three instances she tried her ploy, once an old lady grabbed the umbrella and got down the train in the next stop, never once looking back. Twice, some old men, completely ignorant of her noble intentions, and with high level of intolerance for such carelessness, happened to return it with a strong word of rebuke. Having lost out on her plan and an umbrella, she shifted to old library books (I had the suspicion it was an act of revenge, remember the fine? but never mind my assumptions) in coffee shops. To her consternation, those books went into the kitchen and never saw the light of the day. Looked like they were adding fuel to some one else’s fire.

She had many more ideas coming up, but I was fortunate enough to escape from the fate of being an accomplice since I shifted from Chennai. So now, I was curious to know what really had happened.

“Remember the library where I was borrowing books? Yeah, the one where you got me the membership. I had a huge row with the librarian since I was losing many books (the coffee shop effect, I remembered). During the course of fighting, I realized I had found my prince charming and there ended the search!”
“Oh! That’s wonderful Neera, congratulations! So now you get to borrow as many books as you want!” I was glad for the happy ending.
“No, on the other hand, he has completely banned my visits to library and borrowing of the books!” She smiled, her mischievous eyes twinkling.