Postesses

Why can't I meet men as charming?

All telephone tag and SMS arrangement done, I dithered only for about half a minute before I decided to go as I was; dressed in my ancient jeans and a Fabindia top. Perfectly respectable and casual, too.

I said, "Honey, I am off." Himself called me back. "What are you wearing?" he asked sternly. "My jeans." I said. "Go and dress up, woman," Himself said. "It's not like you go out and meet people everyday, after all."

So I dressed up, and folks I mean way up, considering how cool the ladies turned out to be.

Okay, this post is descending into descriptions, so I might as well begin at the beginning. :D

I wore a tie and dye skirt that was full-length and an architectural marvel if you know your tailoring. This is my blog, so I will also tell you that it was a majestic brick-red lined with a slim hemmed border of saffron (attached on the wrong side, so it will only flash out as I walk, ha!) which went absolutely oh so perfectly with the top I wore. :D

Inspite of being delayed by having to change, I arrived first. Urmi walked in later, stately and serene. Rimi came in much later, full of apologies, angst and appealing quick wit.

Wow! K was right to envy my lunch date.

Urmi is a stately tall person, so chic and cool in her what we used to call pedal-pushers, but are probably called something else now and, glory be, Fabindia summer mode. (I wish she wore her hair loose so I could get a proper gander at her highlights) Rimi is a pocket-sized Venus, dressed carelessly in bargain clothes but exuding style with every breath. ( I dread the thought of getting on the sharp side of her tongue, though.)

Wow!

Urmi and I got past the who do we know in common stage pretty soon, got over the point of remarking on how small the world is and were moving towards talking crosswords when Rimi walked in, a bit late, but all there.

We talked. Oh, we ordered mocktails, demolished free munchies (they gave us three plates of the stuff before they could get us to order), and we talked.

It was, in PGW speak, feast of reason and flow of soul.

Nose piercing? I said I will blog about it. No, tell us first, said the ladies and got the skeleton of the story. Nose piercing? Rimi telling the story is priceless.

And then we talked books. We talked blogs, Urmi and Rimi filling in details as I floundered in the rising tide of names. We talked (and no, men as hunks or eye-candy didn't feature), and we talked and bonded. When they pointedly served us saunf and such and indicated that they would be much obliged if we left, we still talked and took some half an hour before the management said 'thank you ma'am,' to each of us. I don't think they said 'please visit again', and I can hardly blame them.

We ate. Of course, we ate. Urmi had appam and fish, Rimi had haalim or some such thing and paratha, I think, (she made up her mind before I could, apparently a first with her) and I had Nilgiri Veg Korma and Malabar paratha. The parathas got mixed up, Rimi's mocktail was a meal in itself...

Over coffee we talked. We shifted venue, went to Crossword. We talked in the taxi. My foot went into severe cramp mode as we exchanged air-conditioning to real weather and Rimi of the magic fingers got it back to normal, and we talked.

We exclaimed delightedly over books, recommended (but not really recommending, just saying that's a good book) authors to each other, trawled the shelves and we talked. Urmi and I deserted Rimi for a while as we checked the Young Adult shelves, and the DVDs. We met up again, gloated at the thought of books bought and we talked.

Feeling out-classed as I was with Urmi's subtle humour and Rimi's rapier wit, their running gags and dead-pan delivery one-liners; their beauty, personality and presence, I still had a wonderful time. The food and books were only one part of it. We bonded big time, as they say.

I am tempted to start that damned chummery, just for the pleasure of having Rimi around. And Urmi, well, even if we aren't related, I still wish she wasn't so far away that we can't do this on a regular basis. What a woman. Urmi rocks. And that cherub, that baby-doll, Rimi rocks, too. I will just make sure my son never meets her, though. She is bound to be an evil influence. ;)


Cheers!