Monday, January 9, 2012

Knowing your woman

 
I’ve always wanted to say something. I didn’t know where to begin. But, today, I will say this though. And I’ll begin like this: it was on a Winter Sunday, a few years back. Before the mid-morning, I sprinted out with my girlfriend to do shopping in the Thimphu Town. A few moments later, rain started showering heavily. 

We cruised into a cozy restaurant. Over hot cup of coffee, we sat talking about what we read, what we write, what we believe in and what we aspire for. Meanwhile, it started snowing outside. Snowflakes started drifting down like feathers from heaven. In no time at all, wow, Thimphu was covered in the complete white. 

I decided that I‘d return home and cuddle up in the bed, under a heavy quilt. But this heavy rain, snowfall and frost-cold out in the open did little to dispel my girlfriend’s mood of shopping. She quietly insisted on me, “Let’s go, now, for shopping.” She wanted to buy a pair of sandals. 

My initial mood was one of frustration. But it’d be churlish to disagree with her. And I listened to her; we set out for shopping with real gusto. After visiting three shoe stores, eh, the downpour soaked our coats. Our shoes muddied. My body turned cold, I started shivering uncontrollably. I wanted to go home, desperately. 

Moreover, it’s pretty weird being in the Thimphu Street on Sundays. The street is more cramped, noisy and disorganized. You don’t find space to step in as it was overcrowded by the Indian construction labourers. At times, you just wonder you really are in Bhutan. And undeniably, you become minority in your own town, in your own country. 

In the street, you get the snapshots of all activities. Bunches of frustrated young people  high on drugs. Drainage systems overflowing. Disorganized traffics. Hawkers. As we walked so far down to the Clock Tower, we came across a man in rags, presumably drunk. He marched towards us, chanting mantra, “Om Ah Hung! Om Ah Hung!” I scratched my head and wondered, a man so drunk yet he chants mantra.  He chanted again, “Om Ah Hung! Tiru Chutham la!” He was a beggar, gosh. And a new way to beg. We placed a Nu 5 note in his hands and ran away. 

We continued searching for sandals. The unfriendly salesperson further angered me. They were so glued to TV, watching the Hindi serials. They hardly respond to our queries. And interestingly, they don’t agonize about losing customers. But nothing did stop my girlfriend from shopping. Nothing! She wanted to try more shops. 

Already, then, we visited more than 20 shops. Yet she was not convinced. I discovered, there, that women are choosier than men. She wanted the sandals which absolutely match with her dressing sense and the manner in which she’d like to carry herself. Is this one reason why most men avoid going out shopping with their wives? I don’t know.

Before sunset, we visited almost all the shoe stores in the town. This is no exaggeration. 

Our last stop was the Zangdopelri shopping complex. My girlfriend found the sandals, eventually-purple colour, open-toed with straps. You’d never guess how excited she has been. She showed her sandals to me. I nodded, in agreement. She smiled, visibly reassured, as she bought it. 

The day was not only amazing adventure for her. I too discovered something about women. Unlike men, women are meticulous about the kind of clothes they’d like to wear. They look for the trendiest and the most extraordinary in style and stature. That’s why they do the buying themselves. 

We hailed a cab and went home. At home, she excitedly tried on the sandals again and again. Thinking and wondering, I looked at her. How sweet, all I could see in her eyes was a rare, very rare excitement and triumph. It made my heart melt with love and admiration. And I sat watching her, fighting tears. I leaned forward, gladly hugged her. I celebrate, too with her.

Photo: Googlesearch

1 comment:

  1. Hahahaha.... Now I understand why my hubby couldn't stand shopping with me :D

    ReplyDelete