Escapades of a single Indian woman

The rickshaw came to a screeching halt outside the imposing entrance of the Taj Lands End hotel. Sanjana had too much on her mind to get annoyed with these antics, typical of Mumbai rickshaw drivers. She paid the loud and chatty fellow, quickly applied her lip balm and got off without collecting the change.

Unmindful of her steps, she looked across the stretch of land, popularly known as Bandstand. The setting sun, the pink-orange skies and the lapping waves of the Arabian Sea made for a perfect evening; yet without some one to share it with, it remained but a soulless beauty.

She hurried towards the entrance, running her hand through her long wavy hair. Such meetings served as an excellent excuse for shopping. She was particularly happy with that afternoon’s buy – a black designer kurta. Paired with a stole, long earrings and her favorite jeans, it looked better than she expected. ‘Happiness is all about managing your expectations!” she proclaimed to the mirror on the wall. It was only a matter of time before her wise insights and life’s learning would be revealed to the world more appropriately - perhaps a book someday!

She was 5 minutes late; not bad for someone having a reputation for tardiness. She made a quick mental note to brag about this improvement to mom.

The hotel foyer was brimming with activity. Two smart, well-dressed gentlemen met her sight. They seemed to be waiting for someone. She smiled to herself – “May be this meeting will turn out better than the ones before”. Her gaze darted from one gentleman to the next as she dialed his number. Alas, neither of the men made the slightest attempt to move.

A grim hello and a terse apology later, she hung up. Bhavesh was stuck in traffic and running 30 minutes late.
“Traffic, right! How can one not plan for Mumbai traffic on a Saturday evening?”
She could visualize her mom smiling teasingly “How does it feel to be on the receiving end, honey?”

Sanjana’s mind raced through the events from the early part of the day. Her mom had received a call from her maternal aunt, Sudha. In a single breath, Sudha had narrated the details of a wealthy, respected business family from Walkeshwar, looking for a bride for their third son. She insisted Sanjana meet this 'suitable boy' at the earliest.

“Rekha ben, there is no need for baby to exchange profiles, snaps or even have a phone conversation with him. She’s 28 already – we can’t afford to be fussy. Give her Bhavesh’s cell number and send her to the Bandra Taj at 6 pm. I can’t wait to find out what baby thinks of him. Call me tonight”

The expression on her mom’s face had said it all. Sudha was a new addition to the long list of Sanjana’s well wishers trying to get her hooked up. “Welcome aboard aunt!”

Arranged marriages in India relied heavily on such aunts and uncles who with their extended networks put most marriage bureaus to shame.

Bhavesh had made two grammatical blunders in their one minute conversation. Having studied in a convent school with a penchant for English literature, Sanjana was hoping that she had heard him wrong. There were only a few nuts like her who would spend days assimilating William Strunk's classic reference, 'The Elements of Style' when other kids her age would rather devour a Sidney Sheldon.

“Sanjana Bhavesh Dattani’ – Urgh..That didn’t sound cool at all. ‘Sanjana Shroff’ was so much better. Sanjana failed to understand why Gujju parents had great affinity to names like Bhavesh, Mahesh, Ritesh and the likes. Did they lack in creativity or was it just a result of the indifference inspired by Shakepeare's 'What's in a name!' school of thought?

Ten more minutes to kill. She looked towards the coffee shop. It was packed with business delegations. The Taj was living up to its reputation of being one of the best business hotels in Asia. She had been there twice before; for Technology conferences - a luxury that only IT jobs offer. It was going to be her first time however at the coffee shop and she wasn’t looking forward to it. It was hardly a perfect setting for getting to know a potential husband.

If she had her way, she would have preferred a Barista or a Moccha. The 24 hour coffee shop cafe at J W Marriott, however, was an exception. The magnificent view of the lotus pond surrounded by flames from the grand torches lent a magical touch to every evening rendezvous.

The cell phone beep brought her back to the present. She felt like someone on one of those popular ‘Blind Date Reality Shows’ – Behold! The blind date is about to reveal himself.

There he was – a small built man, barely an inch taller than she, dressed in a grey shirt and black trousers walking towards her. Sanjana looked at her high heels and regretted immediately. Mrs. Joseph had taught her in fifth grade that looking down on people was a bad thing; alas, she had little choice now.

An awkward exchange of hellos, an unsuccessful attempt to find a table at the café followed by the ride in the glass escalator finally found the two seated across a beautifully laid out table in ‘Masala Bay’ - the contemporary restaurant of the Taj. Mumbaikars are not early diners which explained why the two turned out to be the first guests of the evening.

Sanjana requested for a cup of masala tea. She couldn’t somehow get herself to like coffee in spite of the fact that it deprived her of the pleasure of exploring the 40 odd gourmet coffees served by most cafes of the day. She was glad that Starbucks served Chai tea – bless the man who thought of adding it to the menu.
Bhavesh ordered a cappuccino and a platter of assorted starters.

It was clear that English was not Bhavesh’s forte. Perhaps, he studied in a school with Gujarati as the medium of instruction. An impressive well modulated voice and an extensive vocabulary would have certainly impressed Sanjana, but she wasn’t vain enough to dismiss Bhavesh for lack of it.

Bhavesh belonged to the shy category of men and was having difficulty breaking the ice. Sanjana could have initiated the conversation but she was having too much fun watching his dilemma. Finally he popped the first question.

“How does your family know Sudha ben?”

“How boring” she thought to herself. After politely elaborating Sudha’s aunt relationship with the family, she enquired about his siblings, work and interests.

He didn’t enjoy reading. She slept with a book every night. It was her dream to have a huge study in her home some day.

Their taste in movies was completely different. He enjoyed drama & action; she liked comedies, musicals and art movies.
‘Amelie’ and ‘Children of Heaven’ were two of her favorite foreign films. She secretly identified with Amelie - her eccentricities and her benevolent intentions to make a positive difference in others’ lives.

Bhavesh went on to describe his stay in Australia. He had gone there for an MBA program a year back. But he was so homesick that he would fly down to India every second or third week. Eventually, he got fed up and quit after 3 months.

“Hmmm, now I know how rich folks spend their money”, she mumbled to herself.


She, on the other had enjoyed every bit of her work travel. Meeting people from different cultures and countries excited her and she had never missed the opportunity of learning something new about a cuisine, place or a race.

She had always been a foodie and her latest craze was Ethiopian cuisine – injeras, wats & lentils. Injera – a pancake like bread made of teff flour, reminded her of dosas, a popular South Indian meal. She had tried to look up an Ethiopian restaurant in Mumbai, but it seemed that no one had yet cashed on this great business idea.

Bhavesh definitely wouldn’t have enjoyed this discussion so she kept these thoughts to herself. He had made no attempt to make friends with the local Aussies in his stay there. The fact that she enjoyed baseball and ice-hockey matches and celebrated Halloween with her American colleagues would have most likely freaked him out. She had friends from nine different nationalities; the latest addition being a Vietnamese lady, whose husband – an orphan from Vietnam war – was raised by an Indian couple in France. It was beautiful to witness the melting of cultural and national boundaries.

Interestingly Bhavesh worked with his dad in a Construction business while his brothers were in retail.
Sanjana had heard some gory stories about builders, gangsters, slum evacuations and “hafta vasuli”. It was inappropriate to pry, but she asked nevertheless
“Have you folks ever got threatening calls from the Gawli, Daud or other local gangs? I have heard that they don’t spare any successful builders”.

“No, I have no experience of that so far. Besides, Dad makes all the decisions and speaks to all the key contacts.”

“So what do you then?” she wanted to say. But the nice girl in her snubbed those words before they could find a way to her mouth.

“Isn’t there a lot of sex..err..I mean..sexual harassment in your job?”

This thunderbolt caught Sanjana off guard. She couldn’t believe her ears. Whatever in the world gave this man such a skewed opinion about the IT industry! Perhaps Mr. Phaneesh Muthy has left a lasting impression on him.

“I have worked in UK and US for last 4 years. I would have sued and made a lot of money if someone ever tried bothering me”, she gave a naughty smile.

“I was just wondering if you would consider taking up a different job once you get married. I would like my wife to work; it is just that IT careers are demanding”

It was true. IT projects could definitely get stressful at times.

He was at least nice enough to want his wife to work. She couldn’t claim the same for many other Indian men whose matrimonial ads still read “Wanted: beautiful and homely girl. She would have never put her career before family, but quitting completely after years in a successful and satisfying career was not on her agenda.

“Perhaps”, she replied.

Sanjana would have never been prepared for what was about to be said next.

“Typically kitchen work gets over at 1:30 pm and then my mom takes her nap from 2 to 4 pm.
So you should take up a job where you can work those hours”.

She didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or drown in disappointment. It was clear. Bhavesh and she lived in different worlds. He was even assuming that she would want to marry him.

“I don’t think I would want to work part-time” she said firmly, hoping Bhavesh gets the message.
He didn’t. “Oh that doesn’t matter.”. He wasn’t listening at all.

“I need to get out of here soon” she muttered to herself. She excused herself to the rest room and called Reema requesting her to buzz her back in five minutes.

Back at the table, her cell rang. She excused herself and took the call.

“Is it? When did you get there? Oh, I am in Bandra. I’ll try and get back as soon as possible”

She hung up. It was a common trick but she didn’t think Bhavesh would see through it. She explained that two of her school friends had come home and were waiting for her to get back. She needed to leave soon.

Surprising, Bhavesh offered to drop her home.

“Another few minutes with him and I’ll go nuts.”

She politely refused. He walked her to a rickshaw.

Neither of them knew what to say next. They left it at a friendly bye.

“Phoooh….that was some evening!”, she said aloud. It was definitely going to be one unforgetful experience.

She rang the door bell, anxious to narrate the amusing details to her family.

Her brother opened the door with a huge ‘Congratulations!’ She wondered what it was about.

Mom came rushing to her and broke the news. Bhavesh’s mom had called.

He had liked her a lot and they wanted the engagement in two weeks!!!
*** END ***