Dating Advice, Dumbbells and other things

So we are sitting and having lunch. And generally talking about everything from bad machine coffee and why Dhoni should be called ‘The D-Machine’ and not simply ‘The Machine’. Then Friend1, who begs for anonymity, starts showing signs of either lunacy or constipation or trying to win an Oscar for a performance in showing various emotions.
One of us has just cracked a joke. Not the spit-food-or-water-and-choke-to-death laughter but just polite laughter to enjoy the one brightest hour of the day. So, this is where Friend1 starts his antics. He starts by trying to stop laughing, then sighs and tries to look serious, then his face is poised in such a fashion that he looks like he is dying of laughter. Literally.
As concerned friends and human beings, we ask why he is trying to pull off such a feat. Turns out Friend1 was recently turned down by a girl who thought he was too funny and didn’t take him seriously. So Friend1 underwent the enlightenment phase and has decided that he is going to ‘show’ more seriousness in life and other business.
So we proceed to give him dating advice. Not that we are quite the experts at it, but why miss a chance to dole out free advice. Some of the gems we manage are:
o Think of sad times…( I think the India-South Africa match is a good idea but the World Cup win has sort of pushed that one into the unconscious subconscious.)
o Hmm….Forget the girl…she does not deserve you (Easiest way out)
o I want to suggest ‘Smell the fart’ acting propagated by Joey Tribbiani but I am sure it is not going to be of much use to him.
Anyways, Friend1 is a walking circus these days. His ears have begun to change color as he tries to swing from cracking one of his killer PJs to putting on a face that might make Jack Bauer look to him for inspiration. I mention this to Friend2 and he says ‘A guy smitten is a guy in his own world. Let him be’. Very Thoreau in inspiration. So I am letting him be at the moment.
Moving on to other things more domestic, my domestic help aka my superwoman ‘Bai’ is quite the modern day version of ‘The Hulk’. In terms of strength, I mean.
There is a pair of dumbbells lying around in the hall gathering dust. A memoir of a past era when a certain fitness video got us into the craze of buying one. We groaned and tried them but soon we just let them be where they are. Coming to my Bai’s superhuman strengths, she is a frail-looking woman but with the spirit of a wrestler. So it is a Monday, and as I lay reading the morning paper grumpily thinking of the under-hyped Monday Blues when the Bai comes in with her weapon, the mop. Then, I watch in awe as she nonchalantly (for the want of a better word) lifts both the dumbbells with three fingers and continues to mop the floor. For quite a while. She must have noticed me gaping at her with my mouth open, for she asks me in her typical bossy tone ‘Don’t you have a proper place to keep these?’
I swallow, take them gingerly and run to find a place for them. Today, the dumbbells lie hidden in a corner where they will not be subject to display of surprising strength. And I do try and occasionally practice nonchalance with them. With limited proportions of success.

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