That's kind of a normal one, right? One of the first recalls when we hear F is friends after all. But what about those strange friendships that a girl can have, in a city like Bombay, the train friendship types but not necessarily on trains? What about meeting and greeting people in unexpected quarters, that leaves an imprint on the mind?
Driving can lead to such strange friendships, at parking lots especially, where guards and parking assistants and other drivers all want to help one park the perfect way.
The other day, I was driving out of a parking lot in a hurry when the guard stopped me. The momentary halt irritated me, but his friendly smile was intriguing. I rolled down my windows as he walked up to me excitedly. “Madam, aap Haryana se hai?” he stumped me. I wondered for a second what part of me had prompted him to say that, and then realized that it wasn’t me but the car that had attracted such attention. I explained that I am not a Haryanvi, but just the proud owner of a Haryana registered car. Despite my lack of familiarity with his region, he spoke for a bit about his gaon and his family, more it seemed to himself, than to me. A honk from the car behind me put a rude stop to his reminiscence. As he snapped back to reality, I pulled out of there, haunted by the sorrow of his self-imposed exile.
There is so much to be thankful for in life, those eyes seemed to be telling me, as I got ready to bitch about the moron ahead of me, driving in between lanes at less than half my aspirational speed.
It is, indeed, an interesting life!
P. S. This post is the sixth in the A-Z blogging challenge series for April.
P. S. This post is the sixth in the A-Z blogging challenge series for April.
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