Becoming superstitious

Yesterday we were fighting, the usual khit-pit.

Things like

You don't spend enough time with me!
What're you TALKING about - we just met yesterday!

That's not the point!
Look, I don't want to watch Kung-Fu Panda in 3D! My head hurts!

What about 2D, what's the excuse there?; Mall? Sunday? Crowds?
You know what..forget it...
Bye!

Half an hour later he calls me back.

Hi..
Hm..
Do you want to watch a play?
Which one? Do you have tickets?
No, but.. The Woman in Black, epicentre, we'll get tickets..Gunjan's idea
Whose??
Ankur's fiance..
Ohh. How come? Well whatever. Ok. What time.
Pick you up at 7.
Bye.

Altogether less yelling. Good sign. When the three of them arrive, I'm late. I've kept them waiting. He said seven. They're here at a quarter to. I'm annoyed. And only half dressed because I'd wanted to fit in a little exercise before the play, and this moving pick-ups forward has derailed my intentions to properly sweat. Anyway. Quick bath, stairs flown down, hair uncombed, I'm panting but sat in the car and apologising to this never-met-fiance of boys friend. Usual introductory backseat noises made: Hi, hi! Congratulations! For? Ohh, Thanks! Ha ha...

The play started at 7.45. By 7.50 I was freezing and wanted to kick myself. I know from experience and previously worn layers that I freeze in movies/ plays/ auditoriums at large. Going to a movie dressed under is like going for a haircut without lenses.You'll put your glasses down. They'll chop your ears off. And you won't be able to tell how much they're taking off from the back.

Anyway. There I was, at epicentre, in my red t-shirt and shorts, sinking further into my seat, shielding myself with my useless leather bag and being too much of an icicle to focus on the actors.

The Woman in Black (They called it The Lady in Black -- 'adaptation') was without a break. And hour and a half. I got used to the cold, re-learnt my lesson - be warm or incur the wrath of the AC gods -- and started enjoying the drama, the spooks, the imaginary marshes, the sound of horse hooves -- old horse carriages and accidents key to the play -- the spray can rolling mist effects, the possessed rocking chair, the shadows to create ghosts - altogether nice-'oh look!'-theatre props.

The interesting part came at the end; curtain call, the two actors and the woman who plays the ghost bow, chap introduces the small cast, calls the light and sound guys to come on stage and everyone has to clap again -- all that was routine.

My this semi-cultured, semi-well-travelled boyfriend tells me that in the performance of The Woman in Black that he saw in London, the ghost lady was not introduced like the rest of the cast. She doesn't come out to take a bow (nor does she wear the uncool Halloween-style mask). When the cast has been lauded and is returning to the wings, the lights and focus on the faintest shadow of a rocking chair in the corner and there she is, barely.

I loved this nugget!

What I loved more was, back at epicentre, when the lead actor got done introducing and 'giving it up' for production guys, he spoke of the jinx. Or the curse. Or whatever -- the 'untoward incidents'. How whenever this play is performed, there's always a 'mishap on set', where ever it's performed. An in fact, just three days ago, they had their own experience with this ghost of a scorned woman -- at rehearsal, one section of the set just came crashing down, broke, had to be rebuilt. Nobody got hurt. It was just odd. He told the audience to google it. I made a mental note.

We walked out of the play, four of us, comparing little notes -- were you scared? decent acting, huh? -- before conversation veered to where to have dinner. One of us was fasting - Gunjan. So we were headed to a place she could have fast-friendly food: fruits and potatoes and milk products and or tea/coffee. Sunday night meant every place was packed to the gills. But we found a spot, parked and were crossing the road when all of us found it strange that there was a horse buggy right there, in front of us. Oooh! Just like in the play, hoof sounds and all. Two comments of a how strange! and wow man! nature later we're eating inside. Soon, we're done. We're stepping outside. Someone wants ice cream. We're waiting, general chit chat. It's past 10. Another horse carriage crosses. Not such a coincidence this time. But registered nonetheless. Maybe it's just a day for horses. And for what it's worth, one guy's brought his camel, trying to make a buck offering rides. So there ARE other animals in sight. And it's not like it's snowing and this is England a century ago.

I'm dropped home. Byes said, with promises of lets do this again really soon. I don't climb the stairs but take the elevator. Desperate Housewives should start any minute. At night, whoever gets home lasts texts/ calls to say hello, home. Twenty minutes is too soon for him to be home. My phone is on vibrate. Samsung is no Nokia. It's a miracle I heard it. I answer. He's speaking in the tone he speaks in when there are people around. It's not a leisurely hello. It's a "Hi ba.. there's no need to panic but we've been in an accident... relax, we're all fine... I'm just updating you, Ankur was driving.. we were going slowly, at the u turn an SUV spun into us.. I'll call soon. We're all ok"

I'm not a panic master. But accident is accident. I 've heard the details. I am calm. I call him back to remind him to take pictures of the "totalled car" for insurance and to hear the background sounds. He does sound fine, flustered, high strung, abusive of two cop-cars that didn't stop but still, FINE.

From then I call every ten minutes. I ask if I should drive there. He says no. He's dealing with the crowds and the other car people. He'll call me back. It's under control. His father's on his way. His phone battery is at 10%. Ankur and Gunjan are okay, shaken, not injured. There's no blood. The right side of the car is badly damaged.

The next time I speak to him, the development is that it wasn't the SUV's fault. A speeding black santro shot out of one of the village roads, hit the SUV and threw it off course. The SUV then hit their car, the red hatchback, that Maruti Getz. The black Santro had driven off. No damage to the SUV, the right side of the Getz all mangled, steel in the tires.. waiting for the crane to come pick it up.

The accident was around 11 p.m. They got home a little before 2 a.m. When I speak to him, I tell him the spooky thought -- the black car, the accident.. the play.. the mishaps.. That unnerves him a little. But he can handle stupid girlfriends with nothing better to do than connect the macabre. He doesn't say anything about it to the other two.

This morning I called Gunjan. Asked how she was, made light about the fact that she must have been ravenous after her fast when she finally got home. Ha ha, she said. No, she was fine. Shoulder bruised. Couldn't sleep. And was going to work late, but was thankful that no glass had shattered, nothing major except crumpled car. Felt lucky. Said something about the apathy of Delhiites who don't stop at accidents. How she's ashamed of her city and how she's pucca going to the temple to say a thank you and offer something -- Is that superstition, too, or just gratitude? Couldn't ask if she thought it had anything to do with the play. That's just silly! Besides, the rest of the audience apart, the four of us saw The Woman in Black. In the car they were three. They're over and saved and thank god for small mercies. But now, just a little teensy weensy wimpy bit, I feel like I'm up next, like the one pending delivery report. OMG!