Before anything, dearest Pisa girl, Happy Happy Birthday!!!!! May you have a blast today!

See part 1 here.

Meanwhile, she was smiling to herself too. He kinda looked cute, too. His class was the other way, he’d said. And he also would be 18 minutes late for his lecture, now. She was just a few paces away from the lift. He could still be there. She turned.

He was standing at the little café in the same floor. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to be in the hurry he was in when she was leaving. He stood there, coolly sipping cold coffee.
And just as she was about to turn back and leave, she saw him give a looking disgustedly at his shirt.
“Ugh,” he exclaimed.
Just as she was looking, he removed the ABBA shirt to reveal a white, new FCUK shirt beneath. And grunting with disgust again, he took a last look at the ABBA picture before dumping it into the nearest trash bin.

Her jaw dropped down in horror. She saw him muttering to himself and she could now make out that it was something like what-more-should-I-do-to-get-a-number.
Her mind was filling with anger, and she knew it would explode unless she got out of the place, as soon as possible.

Suddenly the place around her seemed to be as crowded as ever, though it was just her mind that was clouded and irritated. And in her haste, she dropped her three books and folder again.
“Oh my God,” she groaned loudly.
As a few passers-by stopped by to see what had happened, he turned to look too. She shot him a venomous glance and continued picking them up. He ran up to her and tried to pick up the things.

“Hey, is everything fine…here, have…” she grabbed the book from his hand even before he could finish the sentence, and glared angrily at his shirt.
Slowly understanding what she was glaring at, he looked down at his shirt.
She slowly moved her gaze to the trash bin where he had dropped the ABBA shirt.
“Ahc, actually, it’s nothing much… just like that…” he tried his best, shrugging his shoulders.
“You know…” she interrupted, her voice surprisingly calm and cool. “You don’t really have to explain anything to me.. after all, we just are strangers who met in a lift…”
P.S.: I think I definitely have to continue this! :P

She stood in the lift lobby managing, with great difficulty, a huge folder, 3 books she had just borrowed from the university library, her backpack which she feared would tear open any minute with all the things she’d stuffed inside, and music. Her iPod was the only thing that held her calm in this situation; without it, she would’ve dropped the books down in anger and flung the folder across. (!)

The lift seemed to be taking so long to come from just seven floors above.
He came to the lift lobby soon, slightly panting, out of breath. She cast him a customary glance and turned her head the other way.
One of the earbuds of her iPod fell down, exposing the ABBA song that was going on in full blast. As though the mysterious power that had held her together all that time was gone, she dropped the folder, and while bending to pick it up, two books.
Flustered, she threw the other book down too, so she could organise everything back to balance once again.

He bent to help her get the books too – he couldn’t just stand there while someone was struggling with a huge load. As he kneeled next to her, he could hear the song from her one-down earphone.
“ABBA…” he said, and smiled.
She nodded, giving him a quizzical look. Cautious woman that she was, she wondered why on earth he was telling her that.

“I really love their songs…and this one, tops my list…” he continued. She continued looking, nonplussed, shooting a “So?” with her expression.
He received the message perfectly. He straightened himself up and gave her the folder that he’d picked up.
“Thanks,” she said.

The lift finally came. Embarrassed that he was, for nothing at all, he went in first. And she saw, with surprise, a picture of the ABBA singers in his t-shirt’s back. She clearly hadn’t expected a t-shirt with this old band’s picture, now. She got into the lift, and smiled at him. He must be a huge fan of ABBA.
“Actually,” she said, trying hard to undo the rude image of herself she thought she’d conveyed to him. “This is my favourite song, too….sorta never fails to cheer me up, you know..”
It was his turn to be surprised.
“Which floor?” he asked.
“5,” she replied.

As people went in and out of the lift, making the ride longer, he introduced himself to her. Out of courtesy (and she was ashamed to admit, a bit of making-it-up) she introduced herself to him too.
“Storey 5” the voice in the lift. She looked at her watch. She was seventeen minutes late for her lecture. She quickly got out.
“Nice meeting you, bye,” she told him.
“Same here…bye,” he told her, and watched her start walking.
He stood for a moment, wondering what to do. He ran up to her.

“Hey, well, I…. don’t mean to sound silly, umm no, indecent? Not really…” he said, completely aware he was making a fool of himself there.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“Umm, could I have your number? We could just meet up sometime, just like that.. maybe have dinner outside or something…I know you’ll be missing home food too…”

Wow, so much to ask for a number, she thought. She gave it to him and smiled.
“Don’t call, just message me, anytime after 8 evening….”
He nodded stupidly, as though noting down a teacher’s instructions for submitting an assignment.
“Am really late for class now, bye..” she said and hurried off.
He nodded again, late though. He had been busy waltzing around in his mind.

P.S.: My first attempt at romance. No asking if it’s a true experience, blah blah. I really won’t answer those, ok? :)
P.P.S.: The title is from the book “Shantaram”, from a phrase I really loved.

Yeah, it’s a wonder. Cool, refreshing, awww, it’s a gift from God!
Things about thayir saadam that I can fondly remember:
** An aunt or grandmother seating all the kids around her and giving each one a bit of thacchi mammu in her hand – with a dash of vetha kuzhambu (it’s actually called something else, but I don’t know what!), or maavadu or oorugai…
**The curd rice I used to take to school for lunch inevitably everyday, and though I would complain incessantly to my mom to give something else, I would feel weird if I didn’t have it even for one day!
**How this was the only food that I could gobble up within minutes, considering you can comfortably alter its consistency by adding water…
**The thayir saadam made for special occasions, with fruits, mustard seeds and sprinkled coriander leaves….
**The normal curd rice after every basic meal at home, with a bit of vetha kuzhambu or arachuvitta sambhar…
God, even thinking of it makes me soooo wanna taste it now! :) The curd here is either so sour that I have to clench my teeth to let the pulippu pass on, or so bland that it’s like eating something else.
There, the simplest of food, and the best and tastiest ever!

Then (i.e. when I was in high school, before starting undergrad):
I wouldn't enter a room if it had a cockroach inside

Now:
Cockroaches freely ran past me - they don't bother me, I don't bother them.

Then:
I'd run to the nearest chair or table to climb on it for safety if I saw a lizard.

Now:
I calmly watch it run away as I stomp my foot to 'frighten' it.

Then:
I'd call my grandmother to chase out the bug in the room.

Now:
I'm an expert in chasing bugs and moths out of my hostel room.

Talk about the things you learn living in a hostel!
P.S: Idhaiye saaka vecchu evalo peru treat kepeenga-nu enakku theriyum - idellam over ba!

I don't know whether to call this fate. When people knew I was going to Mumbai for my new job, they would excitedly tell me stories of that magnificent city - it's pace of life, it's human spirit, and so on. And about the metro train there - people travelling in it are actually kind, you know, they told me, they'll help you up if you're trying to board the train and it was leaving.
I was delighted when I reached Mumbai. It was just like Chennai - it was just bigger and faster. I'd always feel at home here, I knew.
I would start my work two days after I reached. I spent the first two days making sure I knew how to get around, with my "Ek gaav mein ek kisaan" hindi. It wasn't bad, I realised; most people knew at once (who wouldn't, if my ka's weren't any different from my kha's!) that I was a 'madrasi' and spoke in English they could manage. I was having fun.
Finally it was my first day to go to work. I neatly ironed my shirt and pant, and managed to tie my tie correctly (the umpteen lessons from internet I'd taken the previous evening really helped!).
I reached the train station. I had to go from Colaba to Matunga. Things went just fine. I found and reached the station right on time, and boarded the train right on time too.
Oh boy, aren't the trains crowded...crowded is such an understatement, rather. The coach looked like it was bursting on some invisible seams, ready to spit out people at every station only to take in more after people got down.
The Matunga station was approaching. To my rising panic, I found it difficult to get to the exit door pushing all the crowd. 12 B in Chennai is far better, I tell you. My panic reached its peak as the train started pulling out of the station.
It was just a few seconds after the train got moving that I actually got anywhere near the exit. I screamed, cursed, pushed and finally got down. The train had been moving at a pretty fast speed when I got down, that I had to sprint for a while before I could stop.
And just then, three men from another coach who were hanging at the doorway, swooped me right back into the train again.
Fate, really. Those three men (maybe I should be nice to them and say kind three men) had thought I was trying to get into the train. Thinking of it now, I laugh, but back then, I would've started crying.
By the time I actually reached my workplace, I was 45 minutes late. It took me that long to take another train back to Matunga from the next station, and to find the office in that darned big place.
Of course, now I know when and how to get down.

What's usually a mundane trip to the Supermarket out of campus becomes interesting too, if you're jobless. Or rather, when you stubbornly refuse to start working on all those pending assignments and wish to do anything other than work.
I went straight to the 'first floor' of the bus I boarded to get outta campus (yeah, going by the kiddo terminology of 'maadi' bus). I was so dead bored with life suddenly, that sitting right before the glass walls of the bus in the front side seemed so exciting. I couldn't see any of the 'tiny' cars and two-wheelers that were standing before the bus. I let out a squeal of excitement when the bus swept past a huge branch of a tree as it moved, as though I was on some roller-coaster ride and was about to brush past something as a part of the ride.
As I was walking toward the supermarket, a lady came rushing to me with some pamphlets in her hand. Uh oh, I was caught.
Guess the fact that I know tamil is like stamped on my forehead or something, she came and started talking in Tamil, rightaway.
'Irunga, please, rendey nimisham.' (Wait, please, just two minutes). She was almost threatening me and I stopped for fear she might stab me if I didn't. She went on and on about this donation for Down Syndrome children and how a 'small' amount from me could make a difference. I really felt like giving some money, till I remembered that if I donated for everything that made me feel bad or sad, things wouldn't really work out. I gave the best apologetic look I could and moved on.
On the way back, I was wondering if we would ever have these closed-door buses in India...seems so nice to even think about it....but coming to the negatives of it, you'll never have an interesting footboard journey!
Ughh....just remembered I didn't get the vegetables for my friend's hamster. Duh!

**I didn't have the scary quiz and assignment submission tomorrow?
**I didn't have the headache that's keeping me from studying now?
**I hadn't wasted all of Tuesday sleeping?
**I had had a useful recess?
**I had more than one recess for every semester? :P
**I hadn't come to Singapore at all?
**I hadn't been overconfident that I would come here?
**I had studied engineering and become another engineer?
**I had studied commerce in high school?
**I hadn't done well in class X?
**I hadn't joined DAV?
**I had moved out of Chennai after my class IV?
**I hadn't come to Chennai at all?
**I had a different name?
**I wasn't born at all?!
**everything is fiction, or a dream?
**nothing exists?

Such thoughts come to one when she is studying, believe me!