22.9.09

An Indian in Melbourne

They all sit and discuss what they're working on.

The big man with his big voice and bigger smile was right there outside Melbourne Central, selling The Big Issue. He is standing before a poster of a model in a pair of slimming jeans. The model looks expectant, hoping someone would rip the jeans off. "Too skinny, not that pretty and has no tits," agreed two boys with so many pimples you couldn't make out the rest of their face.

The young couple passes them. The Japanese girl huddled into herself, shielding her chest from the biting wind. Her super legs erupted into pointed goose-bumps as her tiny denim shorts rode up her butt curve. She led her cute boyfriend who couldn't see clearly. His super-shiny, super-straight hair in that shaggy cut kept getting into his eyes. They run and cross the road, laughing, oblivious to the tram driver who looks furious. Love gives a fuck.

The Chinese woman nearly knocked over the magazine stand. It's a slope there and her little trolley was so heavy. Full of groceries for her daughter-in-law who allows her to live with them. She has the garage and she loves it. It's much better than the old age home.

The Indian girl walks by, sashaying in her dark green knee-high boots. She takes the perfect steps, toe before the heel and her butt moves seductively. There's so much make-up, it's almost like camouflage. Some Indian boys distributing pamphlets stop her, extending their hands to hand her one. She refuses and the vigorous shake of her head spoils her choreography. Her heel gets stuck in a pavement crack, she stumbles. "I am from Maldives, not interested," she says as they ask her if she needs help.

The Pakistani girl, all beautiful skin and lovely eyes and lovelier hair rages about the inequity of the legal system. Of how she needs to go back. On how she needs to change things. Her partner, chain smoking the fifth cigarette, advises her not to get killed. She declares she is not stupid.

The other Indian girl watches, realising that if she breathes she won't be able to pull her tummy in. Cursing that the wind will make her hair look all dry. Wondering if any story, particularly her story, matters to anyone. Then she spots a sign that smiles, "Hot hash browns", it says. She thanks god that food loves her and tries a chocolate she's never eaten before.

They all sit and discuss what they're working on. She says she wants to write about women's issues and equality. Another rolls her eyes and says, "We have voting rights and can wear what we want to. Feminism is so boring."

5 comments:

Sparkling said...

I loved the narrative.

The girl sure has issues with her definition on feminism :p

Mamma mia! Me a mamma? said...

I liked. A lot. A helluva lot.

I can't explain why, but it made me feel very wistful.

Really. Don't ask, I don't know. It just did.

JB said...

@ Sparkling: Thankyou! Melbourne can be quite amazing... Delhi is too. You can stand in the middle of a crowd and melt in and stories simply unfold. I loved Delhi for its bustle and Melbourne for its variety. I don't know about the girl and feminism yet... does she have a point?

@ Mamma Mia: Thankyou too. :)

Sree said...

I was hoping to see some more interactions here.I dont know what to say.Very nicely written.Lovely stories in a bit.Went wah in my mind when I read "the vigorous shake of her head spoils her choreography".I dint like that i even liked"Love gives a fuck".Loved the chinese living in garage.The chain smokin boyfriend advising not to get killed was funny.My mind went"stop smoking you idiot".
"hot hash browns" made me wonder if it could get u into trouble if u were a white. stupid thought i know.anyway...just sayin what all this reader thought while reading.

JB said...

@ Sree: Know what, I was hoping for more interaction as well. :) But theek hai, I am happy at least you guys/girls took the time to write back. Given that now this blog is four years old -- turned 4 on 21-Sep -- i wouldn't mind talking and hearing what others have to say a bit more. Guess that's the trouble with blogging (or me?) we end up writing what we're thinking on our blogs.

Having said that, I SO love each one of you who've been around...and find the time to respond.

Hahaha, I didn't think of that! Hot hash browns. Nice play on it Sree, completely overlooked it. Won't be able to look at them the same way again. :) At least you didn't do the taco on me.

Thanks so much for writing your thoughts... :) And yes, was wondering if someone noticed the chain smoking bit.

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