Monday, February 23, 2009

Nice guys finish last!

Why should one ever aspire to be the nice guy? What is the need to be a nice guy when they always finish last? And I mean literally so. Watched a few movies lately and one thing has become abnormally clear to me. That these nice guys, nobody cares for, really.

Cut to Vicky Christina Barcelona, a film by Woody Allen, one of my favorite directors. So in the movie, Christina falls for an amazingly hot and unpredictable Spanish artist who brings back his hot ex-wife and they all live together, indulging in co-operative and mutual love making!
Vicky, who is Christina's best buddy, is soon to be married to a 'Nice guy' who is very worldly wise and loves Vicky to the core. Vicky suddenly forgets all about her commitment to the ‘Nice guy’ and spends a cool afternoon sightseeing with Mr. Hot and Unpredictable and ends up sharing a passionate night with him. She secretly stays in love with him even after she gets married. So much so, the ‘Nice guy’ becomes quite much like a prop in the movie, to whom Vicky keeps going back to when her wild fantasies don't end up the way she wants them to.

The Accidental Husband is another such movie. Emma is some sort of a Radio Love Guru who dishes out advices to stupid women about love and marriage. Some of these women actually break their marriages after taking her advice. She incidentally breaks one such marriage and the guy who is heartbroken decides to pay her back in the same coin. When Emma gets ready to marry her own boyfriend (if you haven't guessed, this is the the 'Nice guy') they find that she is electronically registered as married, thanks to a hacking genius who happens to be the Heartbroken guy's sidekick.

So while she tries to unentangle herself from this mishap, she falls in love with the man, who somehow seems to have forgotten all about his fiancé and instead, woos this Love Guru female who wrecked his life earlier!!!

You may ask, where is the 'Nice guy’? Well, he is busy trying to choose the colour of the walls for the house he and Emma bought together. And also listening to her radio show in his car and getting more and more bewildered, miserable and helpless by the minute when he sees her slipping off. He even gets her back once in the middle, only to be run out on in the final scene (which is quite obviously the church scene where they are supposed to get married). He actually lets go of her because wo kisi aur ka naseeb hai..tsk tsk..(the movie is in English but such feelings sound better in cheesy Hindi)

I am just too zapped by the portrayal of the Nice guy. Why does being perfect and caring in every sense of the word hold no meaning to these women? They run off with some unpredictable madcap (agreed they are hot! To all firemen and bisexual artists, no offense!) only to come back later or maybe stay on forever…but what the heck? Wasn’t your life going perfectly fine with the Nice guy as well? Why does he suddenly lose his sheen once a charmer enters the scene? Anyway, I would like to meet a guy who could charm his entire way through life…I have seen and met so many and trust me when I say it, they cant keep up the act forever, they just cant! Nobody can! So in that case, why is the 'Nice guy' just a safe bet and not your Prince Charming??

We always want someone to choose the colour of the walls with, to buy a house with, to make breakfast with…and when a like-minded guy comes, we keep him for marriage, for long term plans but not for the fantasy parts. Maybe he could be just as good you know where! Why is escaping the real thing so much fun, and why is jeopardizing the reality so very tempting..

I don't have the answers to these, but I just hope the 'Nice guys' don't watch too many of these movies and end up feeling like the losers and do what they aren't meant to do; play and act like the 'Unpredictable' ones. We will all be at a loss then, wont we?

Monday, February 9, 2009

A Sunday afternoon...

One doesn’t expect much out of a lazy Sunday afternoon. You laze around the house, sleep, watch TV and by the evening feel worthless and …blah. At least that’s how I like to spend my Sunday. This Sunday was different. This Sunday had all this and yet it become a Sunday that I won’t forget for a long long time.

It all started when I decided to get a haircut and asked or hinted almost everyone i know to come with me. Reason: I hate going to parlours/salons alone. The people there are trained to make the clients feel insecure about their looks. Eg : You should use Olive oil, your hair is very rough Or You badly need a facial, the dark circles sweety, are not nice. Whatever way one can extract some extra money from us poor souls. I come to the parlour to feel nice about myself and NOT to feel like a sham, which they constantly try to make you feel.

So after failed attempts I finally asked my dad to come along with me (height of desperation!). Since it was afternoon and the roads were comparatively empty he willingly let me drive (it’s a rare thing). So I very nicely took the car out from the parking lot without any hitch, maneuvered it out of the apartment gate, smoothly drove out of the bumpy side lane and landed on the main road, towards the market( the detailed description is because I am still a novice when it comes to driving). I crossed the first red light and pressed the accelerator and enjoyed the cool breeze running through my hair while my dad sat on the edge of the seat and behaved as if we are going to drive off a cliff. In fact he kept moving his legs into imaginary brakes and accelerator while I applied them in reality. Sigh….dads!

At the second red light, I took the right lane and waited for the light to turn green. I had to take a right for my salon. A cop on a bike was waiting at the same red light in the middle lane. As the light turned green I slowly started moving. The cop was right in front of me and was going straight when suddenly he decided to stop and then turn towards right. Although I had applied brake, the car still hit his bike gently.He glared and I ignored. I smoothly took a turn, drove couple of meters ahead and finally parked the car. Meanwhile my father frantically kept saying “Great! You hit a cop! Oh God!” and then “Ok now he is coming our way and he will want to talk to you.” “Let him” I said “Its his fault, not mine”.

The moment I came out of the Car, the cop cornered me and asked “Gaadi chalani nahi aati kya?” My answer: “Bilkul aati hain ji (Such confidence!) “Accha, toh aise chalate hain, logon ko maar ke chalate hain ?” “ Nahi, aapki galti thi, aap seedha jaate jaate suddenly right turn lena ka socha” (Great Anjali now you are going to tell the cop about traffic rules…great!)
The cop was vehement and kept insisting that it was my fault. My take: “ Dekhiye, na aapke Bike ko kuch hua hai, na mere Car ko, toh aapko problem kya hai?” ( I loved the confidence I was oozing and that too in front of a policeman) “ Matlab kisi ko chot lage ya gaadi thuk jaye tabh hi problem hoti hain..hain?” “ Madam aap toh manne ko hi tayyar nahi ki aapki galti hai” “ Kyu maanu main, jab meri galti hai hi nahi. Aapki galti hai” (I cant believe I actually said that).
Now it was my dad’s turn to mediate. The pitch was high just like mine, but his tone was much polite. “ Aap duvidha me the, seedha jaate jaate aap do second ke liye ruk gaye, yeh toh manna padega” “ Na aap galat bol rahe hain na na hum” “ Accident toh by chance hi hota hai na, jaan boojh ke toh accident nahi hota.” My dad like a true gentleman tried to make that stupid cop understand, while I kept shouting “ Aapki galti thi, doosron pe mat daaliye” ( to which my dad glared back at me to shut up). He asked for my license and I promptly took it out. Dad said with a solemn look “ Ghair kanooni kaam hum nahi karte” (as if its going to make any difference to him Dad) After analyzing my license he finally left.

He was on the look out for a bakra and was in a mood to earn some quick bucks and thought I was an easy target (since I am young, a woman and I hit his bike) but soon realized that it was his fault and I couldn’t be cornered that easily. I’m sure he was disappointed to see my license as he must have thought that I am a learner who was driving without a proper license and he could have earned couple of hundreds from us.

I did go to the salon, and got myself a haircut, which I hate right now. Maybe with time I shall like it. While coming back my mind went back to the incident and I couldn’t help but feel nice about myself. I drove properly, and also in my way told a cop that he was at fault and did not budge from my stand. It was a simple incident and am sure you all have gone through something like this before and but it was a first for me and I felt like superman :)

It may be a trivial thing for others but it was a small little victory for me and as I said, I will remember it for a long long time.

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