Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Yes, I realise nobody's reading this because of the biggest bloody life-stopping semi final India-Pak cricket match EVAH but...

...there's two hours to go for the toss, so pipe down.

And now that I am unemployed and not always 'actively seeking employment', I need ways to fill in the hours. So I go to the boyfriend's bakery, poke around, flip through recipe books, try my hand at making sugar roses, learn the difference between a cupcake and a muffin -- rising agent + muffin = cupcake? -- nibble at freshly baked bread, use the baker's Wi-Fi, tidy up my Google reader subscriptions and reach home in time to watch CSI. This is my life. Not THE life, just my life. For now.

I think of organising a yagya to change the flow of my lazy river but I'm too busy taking mediocre pictures of dough to bother winning over the gods of luck. I should reassess my priorities. It is they, the gods, after all, who might, without me having to lift a gluten encrusted thumb, forward my CV to a high net worth individual, my daddy long legs with a nice laugh who will see the potential in me, my fat nose, my wit and excellent writing and put me on a magazine cover for July, and er, subsequent great things.


On Saturday, I went with baker boy to put up a cake stall at the day long festival at the Alliance Fran├žaise (whose awful canteen food I have cursed before). It was supposed to be fun. Just like selling cakes for nearly 2 weeks at St Stephens' College was fun. I didn't write about that when it was the most bloggable thing to do and I sometimes justify my sloth by quoting Robert James Waller in my head -- the chap who wrote Bridges of Madison County -- who said analysis destroys wholes. It's a convenient truth. One which, over the years, I have kept close to my heart and when it suited me, contradicted finely. You should see the hairs I split in my dear diary.

Anyway. Selling cakes at Stephen's in February was -- I want to go with enriching, but terrific time pass better captures the mood of gainfully employed beach bum. Selling cakes at Stephen's in February was terrific time pass. Enthusiastic clientele. Lovely trees. Hungry hounds. They loved us, we loved them. It was.. enriching. Did you know you could buy the affections of 20 year old college boys all by purring, would you like sprinkles on that?


But Alliance: Less fun. Too much sun. More mature crowd. (A target audience not made up primarily of college kids has its drawbacks). I was bored. My job was front desk. Strike up conversation, smile, make them feel comfortable, don't push for the blueberry cheesecake if they seem to be want a chocolate fudge muffin -- all rules I devised on the job. (So now, it's fat nose, great wit, excellent writing and above par innovation-meets-adaptation entrepreneurial skills!)

Crowd was scant. We were at a disadvantage on account of our location! location! location! My enticing the crowds wasn't working. I became a slacker. Baker and I started fighting. It was horribly dull.

And then I saw a middle-aged guy in the distance. He had beads around his neck. I in my uncouth best yelled to him, you look like a Hollywood actor! Obviously, he came over. He asked for pani. Then he asked me my name. Then he gave me the meaning of my name! No, he gave me the meaning of the opposite of my name. But still, impressive for a foreigner who one doesn't expect to be fluent in hindustani.

Which actor, he wanted to know. I couldn't get the actor's name. But I didn't want him to think I was picking him up/ chatting shit just to get him to buy a slice of vanilla chocolate strawberry cake on a slow day. He wrote down his email address and said, whenever you think of the actor, do let me know. No one has ever, ever called me an actor before.

I wracked my brains. I googled two movies. Was he one of (so hot in the film!) Matthew McConaughey two friends in Failure to Launch? Ha! My reporter instincts kicked in -- if that's what you can call desperately imdb-ing movies on a whim. But this I needed to know. Sure enough. If you put your mind to something, you win, blah blah. Here was my answer. Bead man looked like this guy. I sent him an email with Hollywood actor in the subject field. His Facebook page says he's the CEO of some telecommunications company and enjoys eastern philosophy, Chopin and Bach -- much like the baker boy, I told him -- and has been living in India 10 years. I thought it was big of him to reply to my email admitting that he did, yes, unfortunately look like said 'Hollywood actor'.

He wants me to take him out to some, wait, let me copy paste the mail..

You are living in Delhi, right? Won't you show me some nice, not very noise, just very nice hangout around? I basically never go out... We can talk about movies (Hollywood, ha-ha), music, fine articles or something like that.

I think it's a damn pity that I'm worried he will chop me up into little bits and throw my body into a Hauz Khas swamp. What a cruel world. He was beginning to look a lot like my high net worth godfather.


Anonymous said...

see see, i read it. and ate the cake. and told our friend-who's-birthday-it-is all about it.

Anonymous said...

At least your high net worth godfather radar is working all right!
And those cupcakes look orgasmic...

Sanchari said...

Well, did you ever wonder whether this guy could be your answer to a job, better than perhaps your last gig?

Nimpipi said...

Meineken: As soon as you left, they all bloody melted! Stupid cakes. Stupid heat. Stupid crowd. Hmph!

spbroad: Haan, they're quite okay. When you come to Delhi next, stop by. I'll feed you. That's all I do anyway, be useless and hand out freebies:). Ask commentor above you, this meineken woman who had a taste of the date and walnut cake, my favourite. Sweet boy doesn't mind. shukar hai

Sanchari: I don't know if dabbling in telecommunications will be more fun than my last gig. I have a feeling nothing will be more fun than that. Depresses the life out of me, this not being sure what to do. Thinking maybe I should study some more, creative writing-shiting.. east anglia.. i dunno. Vague as they come = yours truly. Oh, and unmotivated. Maybe meeting this dude could change all that. Maybe. Shall I, shouldn't I? *plucks petals forlornly one at a time*

The.Mystic said...

The AF crowd is really boring! They can cure insomnia! Selling cakes to college kids is better and easier, they don't worry about "calories". Do a Hensel and Gretel theme next time, might attract a bigger crowd.
Hope the bead guy lands you a job, or at least doesn't chop you into teeny weeny pieces.

Perakath said...

Eh? Was that part of Winter Fest or whatever it is they call Harmony these days?

'Yagya' is an awesome word.

The Unbearable Banishment said...

You can buy the affections of grown men by purring "Would you like sprinkles on that."

Bitching about the sun when we are, this late in the season, expecting a rain/snow mix, is a bit hard to take. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Most techies look like Patton Oswalt and never go out. But they run the world. So there's that to consider.

Congrats to India, by the way. Well played.

Nimpipi said...

Myst: 1. What is AF? 2. You mean Hansel :) and 3. We DID! Yaay!

Pera: Hello alumunus! (Or is it alumni? I think it's alumunus). Did you know your college shoved Harmony to the end of they year? Didn't it used to be, wary as I am of that construction, in October/ before the autumn break? Yes, it did, didn't it? It did.

haha@Yagya=awesome. I 'gree! Strange things you pick up:)

UB: Tsk, shalll I go after Oswalt or not? Will he hack me to death or not? Nobody gives me answers no more!

You saw the match?!Really? Like all the way there? This amuses me! Americans watch cricket?! Really?! See, it's not my fault that all pop culture taught me is you peeps love your baseball and your football, your hot dogs with mustard and your junk food to go. Nobody said nothin' about no cwicket! I'm so touched I could give you sprinkles on that.

The Unbearable Banishment said...

Ummmm...yeah. I think I may have overplayed that comment on the match just a bit. I didn't mean to imply that I saw it. I read about it. It was a small blurb in the New York Times. I *suppose* it was televised here but I can't say where. The biggest piece of news we got from the match was the fact that Prime Ministers Gilani and Singh shared a box.

Perakath said...

Yus, I heard something like such was going on. Every batch says this, I know, but it's become a strange place since I left. The principal hangs around the Facebook alumini group and drops into conversations.

Sucheta said...

Funny story: A friend went to the Alliance Francaise thing (with her engineer type boyfriend) and loved the stuff from cake away. She's been raving about it ever since!
Now I come here (out of sheer boredom and too much time at hand) and what do I see! She's raving about your boi's cakes :P

bead guy sounds creepy. Blog keeps getting funnier.
Good "job"! :D

Sucheta said...

Also, friend is not boring. Boyfriend's office is. Apparently.
She'll kill me if she finds out I mentioned her fraternizing with oldies on public forum :P

The.Mystic said...

1. Alliance Fran├žaise 2. Yes I mean Hansel, I forgot the spelling(feels old) 3. We'll do it again!