A heritage walk in the city last Sunday brought me in acquaintance with a youth from Kenya. Let’s call him Mr. SM. SM, in his mid-twenties, was in our assortment of seven very hopeless people whose idea of fun on an early Sunday morning meant staring at buildings after getting ripped off close to $12 each. Brief introductions succeeded a lengthy discourse on what to expect in the next three hours of our walk by guide whose credentials I suspected. I was proved wrong though. Our guide, who according to him, was a “consultant architect” (I did not ask him what that meant; I thought all architects were consultants) proved out to be much more than a story-teller. Though sheepish at times finding that we did not share his enthusiasm for ‘a fine mélange of subdued and subtle Caranetic blend in Indo-Saracenic style’ he pointed out all the nuances of architectural styles and old city planning which even an experienced-eye could amiss. A young couple, irked that they could not get the ‘art’ in the architecture, volleyed a series of vague questions trying to sound aesthete and irked us all. The woman went a step further and declared her love for Art-Decos. “I love Art-Decos because they have art in them.” The guide perhaps was too embarrassed by the lack of Art-Decos in the city and did not say anything. But patient he was nonetheless, with all our queries: amateur or pro. I scribbled the “joke” in my notes and the PS read: Why not to get married (reason no. 42).
After three hours of detailed enlightenment and the usual after-rants on modern city planning and drawbacks of a la mode building styles (Surprisingly, no ASI this time) we were given an informal but witless feedback form as we left for our “farewell breakfast.” This is when I actually interacted with SM. Opting to stay away from the couple and letting the silent elderly gentleman enjoy his solitude, I took my seat next to SM. Embarrassing smiles followed awkward silence. In the next thirty seconds, our talks were as varied as possible. From the tattoo on his arm to the grilled-sandwich and finally hitting on what we were there for: buildings. It turned out that SM was not just another sucker of buildings. He studied Town Planning in Kenya and was here on a project to document something-something and finally suggest a solution to city’s traffic woes. I wished him luck for this noble endeavour of his and profusely thanked him for understanding the plight of citizens. Now only the city-bureaucrats could share his enthusiasm. :D
Not surprising, Bollywood has another fan. SM rarely fathoms much of the stories (who does anyway) but he likes the dance and fight sequences. His favourite star? Our own man; Salman. We later took a cab to the city market and SM got himself DVDs of No Entry and Dabbang.
At the end of the day, I dallied with the idea of setting AS up with SM. Picturing them both in the same frame was anything but exotic to me. But the very thought of ‘exporting’ AS out of the country in a distant land enthused the sarcasm in me. Apparently, AS did not share my level of enthusiasm and straight away rejected the proposition of dating a non-Indian guy. A discussion on virility of Indian and Afro guys followed which yielded nothing
Bored, I perused through my notes, documented the reason no. 42 into the MS Word and re-read all of those. Convincing, they all sound.
©Rakesh 2011
