Today, Bengaluru is a celebrated cosmopolitan. Vibrant, unpredictable and distinct. I always believed this city was God’s kaleidoscope. The firangs add to all the in-house richness. I have been mildly acquainted with foreigners so it is easy for me to understand their thinking. I went to a misunderstood art college with several Iranis. It’s wonderful to see how adaptable they are to their surroundings; actually they are amazed of their surroundings. No surprise there, because of the entranced glances we cast when we see foreigners.
The Indian eyes invariably fall prey to the bewitching charms of white skin. The whiter the skin, the wider the eyes get. Be it on the street or a plush reception, white skin demands a second look. Renowned for our generosity, we cast on them several looks. There are assorted reactions to white skin. To the Indian vendors, white skin is hallucinating crisp green Gandhi notes. To a teenager it is the definition of “Good Looks”. To an employee they are “Incredibly Dense” and to the elderly it is always, “Hey Ram! Pre-marital sex?”
At the gym I have found a new diversion for myself to get over the agony of being sporadic. A pretty white woman visits the gym often; I like to call her Snow. The men are smitten by Snow. I can almost see them perceive her as a goddess on a throne as she runs on the treadmill. They cast coy glances at each other and rejoice when she reciprocates with a glance.
One morning she was using the treadmill next to mine when somebody tuned M tv. They play some good numbers in the mornings. My pace got faster as the peppy song “Bhaag DK Bose” from the upcoming movie Delhi Belly played. I got hooked on the track a few weeks ago at the recommendation of a dear friend. I have not gotten enough of it since. Snow seemed to like it too. She smiled and said, “It is a nice song but what does Bhaag DK Bose mean?” I smirked and nodded a “no idea”. Explaining to a firang how a local swear word became a chart-buster was not how I wanted to begin my day.
We were being eavesdropped. A man jumped (Mr.X) at the chance and began to explain to her in broken English, for roughly around 10 minutes about what the word meant and how the youngsters hum anything at all these days. I could tell from her expression that she was regretting for asking. She politely thanked the man. I smiled at her while she quickly waved me a bye and left. Mr.X boasted about what he said to her to his friends. They patted his back like he had won a grand prix. Snow had made his day. I wish I could say the same about him.
Talking rubbish and yet, convincing a firang is an art well perfected in our country. In desi dhanng, it is the Firangi Jhalmuri. However, the whites have grown smarter over the years. I recommend the gazers to beware and refrain from any folly at the sight of white skin, you might just fall prey to some white magic!