.... So mused my friend P after a two-and-half-an-hour dose of Mr & Mrs Smith. I was, well, prone to agree with her, only there was one problem. Mr Pitt happens to have a reputation for being the smelliest stud. See... there's always a hitch to every guy. Damn.
The film itself was pretty hard-earned. Literally so. We had to stand at the PVR counter at Saket maintaining a hawk-like stance while from in front of our very noses the guys at the counter were passing on tickets to some guys who were busy blacking the same. One of the latter even approached me and asked in a whisper, "Which show tickets are you looking for?" I said: "7.15 pm" He said: "150 for 200." I put on my best bargaining behaviour. It didn't work.
I was at the receiving end of a smirk followed by the words: "Maddam
yaha 190 nahi ho raha hai aur aap 170 ki bol rahe ho?" (Here I am not
even going down to Rs 190 and you are talking of Rs 170) So I moved in a huff back to the counter determined this time to create trouble if I didn't get two tickets. I am glad I got them then. Cause I was in a mutinous mood, basically in a mood to call up Ajay Bijli right then and letting him know how pathetic everything was. (Well I did message him and express extreme indignation. And he did call back and ask for details. However I refrained from mentioning my identity. The best part was he didn't even ask.)
Inside the hall, we had to move seats because we happened to have
plonked ourselves in the wrong seats. There was a guy sitting beside P who was really weird. I asked him to shift and he refused flatly saying, "This is my final seat. Your seat must be elsewhere." And he wouldn't budge. How tempted was I to drop my bag on him (it seemed to weigh tons. It had my Vikram Seth). Finally he must have heard me mouthing loudly to P: "Is this guy retarded?" He moved.
The result was I had him sitting next to me and almost leaning on to my seat. So I got a crick in the neck while leaning towards P. Then in the middle of the movie, he suddenly said to himself, "Mr & Mrs Smith". I swear he wasn't on the phone. After the interval he returned with popcorn and started stuffing it into his mouth like muri (puffed rice). You can forgive me for begging her to exchange seats with me. She wouldn't.
In the midst of all this I got some messages from an ex colleague which pissed me off thoroughly. He made it a point to advise me to drink, but not to drink like a fish. Because apparently someone he met at a party claimed to have dropped me home "in an inebriated state" besides claiming "several other things". Hmph...Why do guys lie so badly? Obviously the latter is lying and to top it all I get this sneaking suspicion that my ex colleague's not exactly the benevolent saint he's portraying himself to be. He refuses to let out the name of the guy.
Among other things I bought six books from a Saket roadside. I have to stop buying books. Seriously. I think I have a pile of some 20-odd books waiting to be read. Meanwhile my Vikram Seth continues to be a marathon read.