My darling lovelies, I have been busy. Since last week I have graduated university, moved to the the other side of the country and have been scared by the not so numerous days I have until I leave for India.
Last week I promised to write about the Bollywood Model, which has been floating around in my head for quite some time, and which was made all the more poignant when my mother voluntarily sat down to watch Jab We Met and looked at me halfway through and said: “Please don’t tell me that this is your plan while you’re in India. You are NOT allowed to run after trains, and you are NOT allowed to have a whirlwind romance.”
Silly Maa, I don’t have to plan any of that, The Bollywood Model tells me that it will just happen.
TBM goes down a little bit like this:
On my train from Delhi to Jaisalmer I will meet My Bollywood Hero, the Annoyingly Endearing Mystery Man (MBHAEMM) in some sort of embarrassing situation. He’ll be in my seat or I’ll be late, or we’ll be trapped in the middle compartment, or he’ll bust open my suitcase or something. MBHAEMM will try to smooth over the situation by laying on the oily charm. He’ll schmooze, but this girl, no she ain’t taking it. Only after making the situation worse in his attempt to improve it MBHAEMM will walk away leaving me in a huff, complaining to my coworker about his imprudence.
Magical moment #1: Though we are both chagrined by the outcome of the meeting there is something that makes both of us a little unsettled. Was it his laugh, or his eagerness? That great head of hair or the V-Neck shirt? MBHAEMM will wonder why such an uppity, controlling gori won’t shake out of his thoughts. Etc…
Sooner or later both of us forget about the experience, until we are seated next to each other on a flight to Mumbai. At first we leer uncomfortably at each other until MBHAEMM breaks the silence and begins conversation.
Magic Moment #2: I do or say something that catches MBHAEMM off guard and that intrigues him. And quick as a whip, BAM! He’s in love. The heros always fall in love first, so of course mine would have to as well.
When we part at the airport we linger a little, but not enough to understand why. He walks one way, I walk another. We turn and look back, but at separate times. Always at separate times, disappointed that the other is not returning our glances.
Magic Moment #3 Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. Duh.
The weeks pass without any real conversation or thought with and aboutt he other person. That is, until his sister’s/brother’s/aunt’s/mother’s/sister-in-law’s cousin’s daughter’s mendhi and or engagement (or both!). I enter the family function vis-a-vis a coworker or friend who insists that I go. Somehow, despite the hundreds of people at the party, me and MBHAEMM lock eyes and see each other. Coy flirtations are exchanged, introductions are made, which leads into…
Magical Moment #4: This is a big one. Not only is it the big song and dance, admittance of feelings AND almost intermission; but it’s also something else. The Sari Moment. Yep, that magical moment where the heroine dons ethnic wear and knocks the hero off of his feet and out of his mind. As my friend would have dressed me in appropriate attire, this is so totally the moment. And of course, the dumbfounding moment goes down as we get attached to each other in some method, and then circle around slowly just staring at each other, wind machines on high, the whole shebang. There is no going back after a combination family function/slow circle/wind machine/hooked on my bangle/Sari Moment.
At some point something had to go down the crap hole, and that moment is now. Just as MBHAEMM and I are getting romantical and in the throws of filmi love, something goes down. Either I forget about a boyfriend who calls me out of the blue (hey, it’s happened) or his parents force him to get married, or his parents hate me because I’m white, or he has to take over the family business and that somehow writes me out of his life, or I choose to go back to Amrika or MY parents rip me away and force me into wedlock or suddenly appears a lost brother who’s a smuggler… Or something. We weep and moan and cry and vow never to love again and a whole lot of other nonsense.
Magic Moment #5: Intermission… Or, as it could be called, travel; for when the action picks up again, we shall be in different places than where we left off. For ease let’s assume that I went back to Amrika and he took over the family business.
For the next hour (roughly 1 year or an odd number of months, like, say nine) there is a lot of moping and pining going on. We each perform our own love ballads, dance in the rain, and attempt to move on with our lives. It doesn’t work. Finally, at the same time, we decide we can’t stand it any longer and fly to our respective lovers. MBHAEMM and I pass each other dramatically in the airport terminal, but don’t notice.
Magic Moment #6: Missed connections. There I stand in India, crying at his parents because “how could you let MBHAEMM leave when you could FEEL that I was coming to him!?”; in Amrika there is MBHAEMM head-bobbling and sad-puppy-eying my father, wearing a scarf that matches his cardigan, proclaiming his love. With permission MBHAEMM scoots back to India, to find me. (Since I have obviously stayed and become a live-in resident with his family because being with them is consolation enough).
Magic Moment #7: Winning over the in-laws with my grace, charm and wit.
What can I say about what happens next? It’s just a race to the end (because our 3.5 hours are UP!).
MBHAEMM comes home, we stare at each other, the wind machines start up, I turn and fling my hair about when he arrives….
Magical Moment #8: Lovers Runited.
Magical Moment #9: Shaadi!
Magical Moment #10: Awkward as-the-credits-roll Item Number.
*sigh* Just like my terribly strange day dream a few weeks ago, I’m about 89% convinced that this will actually happen… Though, I sincerely hope not, that’s a lot of pining and weeping, two things I really suck at.
However, since it is THE Bollywood Model, I’m guaranteed a least one of those magical moments, or at least an awkward experience on a train.
Less than two weeks people!