Yet another Valentine's Day whizzes by and I have the funniest time instead of the most romantic. I wonder how difficult it must be to have a day set apart where you MUST romance your amour. I wonder the ardour does not cool thinking of other couples coupling the same way, getting suicidal just like you thinking of the most nouvelle cadeau to gift your pretty bird, crowding the same streets and promenading up and down together and visiting the same restaurants( Calcutta doesn't have too many options as it is) to order the same special -Heart on a Platter....Eyck! Sounds like spoils of war to me. However if you, Fresh Young Man In Love and all, ask me 'How in the name of all that is unholy would you know?' I would have to admit I don't. I spend Valentine's day ( or Bilious Red Balloon Day as I prefer to call it) with my friends. We promenade the streets too but to re-experience our funny bones instead of billing and cooing. We do get to hear a lot of that-billing and cooing I mean. Only humans being humans and not doves can't sustain the dulcet twitters.
'Oh Darling , you didn't have to get me this...you really didn't' flutters Miss Turtle swinging her long, ironed and soft curled hair out of the way to open a robin's egg blue pseudo Cartier box. Mr Turtle flexes his un gymmed arms, tucks his fingers in the waistband of his boxers (the waistband of his jeans are quite out of his reach unless he stoops) and adjusts his shades(a dirty blond, the same as his locks) while grinning sheepishly 'Anything for you babe.' Miss Turtle struggles with the box, snaps it open to find two rocks- 'Moonrocks for my Chand' coos Mr Turtle while ogling one of my friends (she is mighty pretty though inclined to get sentimental over PDA). Miss Turtle does a Didi( turns into Mamata/ the Kalbaishakhi without the wind for the uninitiated) while Mr Turtle does a Dada(turns into a Sourav post comeback and retires to nurse his injuries while declared unfit).
Of course the course of some lovers do run smooth. They are usually too handsome or too ugly to deserve better and are hugely satisfied with themselves. The handsome couple are debating whether they would fare better on Splitsvilla than Vishal and Shraddha (of course we will lover man...smoochhhhhhh....they surface...oh it was just for the air ....at it again soldiers and let me see more stamina this time!!). By the way the automatic spell check very sweetly gives me Buddha or straddler as the correct alternatives to Shraddha. The ugly couple ( and you shouldn't miss the girl's Goddess Kali like furiously curly and looongg hair, dazzling costume and costume jewellery a la Morjina of Ali BaBa fame) are debating on how they will fare on Roadies and how the guy (I call him so though humanoid owl would be better) will "bit the sheet out of Ragu). Not by his accent I hope. Then they smooch....you know how plungers are used to clean Indian style salle de toilets....well that is the drift.
Further still opens the panoramic view of schoolgirls with their shirts tucked out and their skirts a brief affair, best forgotten. They are waiting patiently for their boyfriends all of whom look surprisingly like Varun of Splitsvilla or Monkeyboy fame. The chinkiz stay true to their clan and attach themselves only to other chinkiz. They are so uber stylish they take our breath away till my friend remembers ' You know wait for another ten years when the girls will start looking like our momo aunty and the guys like the Karate Kid's sensei. This is as you might have guessed not my sensitive friend.
The malls and theatres are crowded and Park Street can hardly be seen. Victoria Memorial overflows with people milling to make out (I wonder the couples can distinguish their partners....or perhaps that is the attraction) and the Zoo sees more than its usual quota of animals groping. Yes Love is in the l'air. Well so goes the love day.....Break Up Day tags in the wake.
