I believe in pink - I

I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles.

 - Audrey Hepburn

Friday, July 22, 2016.

11:15 pm.

“Late!” I said to her as she rang the bell to my home.

“Sorry! Got held up. There were discussions with agents for a commercial.” She said, with an unassuming smile. Without waiting for another reaction, she continued, “Very happy to see you after such a long time!”

A short hug and later, I said, “It’s good because a lot of people in this complex would have gone to bed. You would have attracted attention. Did you come inside the complex in the cab?”

“No, I got down outside and came in. There was only one security person and he was getting ready to doze off!”

Looking unmistakably bright in a red salwar kameez, she sat down comfortably on the frugal piece of furniture that I have at my home.

“So how are you doing?”

“Why don’t we eat and then talk?” I posed, “I have been waiting!”

I went inside the kitchen to bring the dishes I made – just plain sambar rice and curd rice, as she wanted. The side dish was a curry dish made of beans. And yes, roasted papad. Actors are notoriously fickle eaters and I was apprehensive of whether she would toe the same line. I was pleasantly surprised when she took second helpings of the food. In between her last mouthfuls, she certified, “Mmm.....you do cook well, sir! Your guests should really want to return!”

“You are only my second guest!” I said, leaving her in a tinge of bewilderment.

Food done, she insisted that she wash her plate herself and ended up washing mine too. I had to forcibly prevent her from washing the other vessels. The sight of one of the most beautiful actors of my time, washing utensils at my home was fascinating and unnerving at the same time. This showed how grounded she was.

“Enough,” I said, gently pulling her away from the kitchen sink. “I don’t have aprons and you are going to spoil that pretty dress of yours.”

“Do you have ice cream?” she enquired.

“Sorry! I do not have a fridge. But I have got chocolate for you,” I said, handing over a bar of one. She made a face, smacking of fake disappointment, taking the bar nevertheless. Her smile was so natural, not that of a model or an actor. Half an hour of speaking about myself and then the yawning started.

“You should hit the sack,” I said.

“No, I am tired, but not sleepy. Don’t you have a car?”

“Yes, I do. A Hyundai Eon”

“Whatever. Can we go for a drive?”

“At this hour?” The watch was showing 12:30 am.

She nodded, her eyes demonstrating the enthusiasm of a child.

Five minutes later, we were zipping on the near empty streets of Thane, with her incessantly chirping about her projects. I drove for sometime on Ghodbunder Road and some other arterial roads which I had never driven before myself. Empty roads just make you press the accelerator. I then found my way to the backwaters.

“I need a selfie here. Come inside the frame.” She said. She shot one with me. She wanted to shoot at different spots, she said, when I cut her short.

“I will shoot you. I don’t like being in photos, actually”

“Ah, not a fan, I suppose,” she faked a sulk.

“I am a friend, not a fanboy. I do like you on screen, but I haven’t seen much. And yes, I don’t have a TV.”

Still sulking, she handed over her phone, the latest Apple iphone. Five minutes later, the heavens opened up with a slight drizzle. “Let’s go,” I said. Reluctantly she obliged. Seeing the tinge of disappointment on her face, I offered, “Do you want to continue the drive or go home? You have a flight to catch tomorrow. It’s close to one already.”

“My flight is at 10. Drive, Drive...” she said, with a semblance of child-like glee on her face. After further driving, we were home a tad short of 2 am, with the sleepy security guard cursing me as he opened the gate at that unearthly hour.

“I still don’t feel sleepy, Pradeep,” she said. “Can we continue to chat for sometime?”

I smiled. “By all means! I don’t know when you are going to come next!” She smiled.

“Do you like your job?”

“Indeed. It is real white collar, makes me use my brain, satisfies me, supports my family and.....and....yes, help me lead this upper middle class life.”

“Oh..”

“You? Do you enjoy your work?”

(contd)

Part II contd at http://e-kirukkalgal.blogspot.in/2016/08/i-believe-in-pink-ii.html