Wednesday, August 15, 2012

The Woman

1981. It was a cold winter morning in Mysore. The unseasonal rains, in December, had made it colder. The Bay of Bengal had a depression. (Time someone took it to a psychiatrist, or vice versa, don't you think?) That was causing these grey stratus clouds drizzle down on you relentlessly. 

I had recently taken up a job in Mysore after short stints at Ranchi and Bombay. I had a Suvega (a moped) to commute to work. I also had a new raincoat - the same vintage as the moped. I wore the raincoat and started my moped and started off for work, riding through deserted streets. I felt good - so committed I am. I felt brave - thumbing my nose at the cold and the rain and here I was off to work.

My ego suffered quite a puncture. The streets were deserted, did I say? Yes, except one girl on a bicycle! I often  passed her pedalling briskly to work on normal days. I had to see her today? There she was, pedalling more briskly, in a white sari with a blue border, holding the handle with her left hand and an umbrella in the other.


  1. Ha ha ha! very nice!

  2. I read this because it was titled 'The Woman' and I thought 'now I wonder what this Anil's been upto. I was hoping you'd played chess with her and she spoke a foreign language and she told you the meaning of a particular word in yet another language etc.
    But really, quite a feat, this wearing a sari and riding a cycle and holding an umbrella. Clever woman.