The blue-eyed boy

I only wish all men in the world were English; decent, chivalrous and smart. Never will any Londoner comment, stare or even look at any woman. With this trusted notion in mind, I set out to the gym. I love the gyms here, not because they are plush (trust me, they really are not), but because no one bothers you here. You don’t even have a free trainer to bug you.

But, to my surprise, one blue-eyed boy (I am not calling him that) that is the colour of his optic. This guy kept stalking me everywhere I went inside the gym. I thought, I must be imagining things, because, no non-Asian would ever do that, unless he is a psycho. I knew I could not fool myself that I was really attractive or had great looks to magnet unwanted attention. There are several stunning looking women out there and I was the only fully clad person out there. But there certainly was something about me, and they I figured out that it was my colour, my race. I was the only Asian working out there. May be he thought women from the continent were docile and easy targets for eve teasing.

Time passed and he continued with his funny attitude, till I decided to put an end to it. I went up to him and asked him, “Hey, do you have a problem?” It sent down jitters down his spine, and he replied, “No…no, no problem.” “Good,” I thought and walked away. I was happy I had scared him.

The next day this guy walked up to me and said in Hindi, “Kal apne mujh se kya poocha? Mujhe koi problem nahi hai. Aap hamesha gusse mein kyo rehati ho? (You asked me yesterday if I had a problem? Why are you always angry?) Totally baffled to hear a white guy speak in my mother tongue, much better than me was too much to digest and I had to respond to him too. All I could do is just get up and walk away. I said, “I am sorry I have no interest in speaking to you.”

After a lot of research, and discussions with my husband, I came to the conclusion that he might be an origin of Afghanistan. For, a few days ago I had been to buy fish and this Afghani seller pointed out at the Salmon and said in Hindi, “Oh you want to buy Salman. He is the King of Bollywood.” I knew Indian Cinema was Big worldwide, but did not realise even fish were named after stars. However, the fact that the gym guy was not English was solace to me. At least he was not a psycho, or a sex manic or serial killer, but just a big Hindi movie buff.

Just to avoid confrontation and decrease my husband’s anxiety I changed my gym timings, but after many days, I did bump into him. Now, I knew how his mind works. Totally filmy estyle. The very fact that he wore huge silver chains around his neck and shades while working out added to it. He said hello. I greeted him back. I knew ignoring him, only fuelled his want to talk to me. You know, the usual heroine hates hero in the beginning and he then he stalks her and gets her to fall in love with him. My guess was right, he said he was an Afghani and he said he wanted to go to Mumbai to work in Hindi movies. I told was married and had two kids. His next question was, “Is your husband strict?” I am sure he was thinking of the common – married women, unhappy with evil hubby and wanted a hero to free her- story. I said no. He is a great guy. Then to cut him short I made him believe that I was moving back to India in a week. Anyways, I was going to change my gym soon. Even this did not deter him. He said, “Mujh se dosti karogi?” The typical protagonist dialogue. I asked him what friendship meant to him. He said, talking in Hindi, going to movies and chatting over phone. Mind you, he was no way a teenager. He must have been in late 20’s. I told him my kids (though imaginary ones) kept me busy and I have no time for this. At this he was quick to reply, I am not inspired by movies, I mean it. Sure he was guilty of being smitten by them. I just walked away and bid him good bye. And then came the last dialogue, “Don’t you want to take any memories of London with you?” I just wanted to burst out laughing, but politely said no and ran out for some fresh air.

Now, this was a typical example of how Bollywood movies affect people and that too a non-India. It is not just a platform for escapism but so easily creates an imaginary world around vulnerable people. They only break out of this shell when they fall hard on their faces and taste reality.