Gripes Galore

Off late I have been too sparing in the griping. Mr.Gabby does not think so, but my friends? Oh, they have been almost all spared. They are all still my friends, minus the stingy ones. But that does not mean that things have been purrfect and the irking has not been happening. Today, I will devote my energies to The Griping On The Friends.

Boston has been kind, and we have been hanging out with some interesting people since we have moved here. They come in all shapes and sizes though and we are yet learning to embrace the new, which proves to be quite tricky at times.

The couple who is too Couply. Hello, we are here, sitting in front of you, do talk to us. It’s just the 4 of us here so if we are not that interesting to you tonight, you should have STAYED HOME IN BED. We are here to mingle, so pray stop mingling with the straps of your girlfriend’s sexy strappy dress and MINGLE WITH US. Look at Mr.Gabby and me, now, come on, you can do it. She will not disappear during the 2 seconds you make eye contact with us, I promise. (Or maybe she will? Suddenly there’s some light!)

The Seeking Singles. Don’t get me wrong, I understand, you are on the look-out for that Mr or Miss Eligible and we married people are merely the network through which you hope to meet that person. But please, do us the courtesy of pretending you want to talk to us too. Or should we just be happy you put makeup on, for us. Also try to pause between the following three sentences “Oh, Mr.Gabby’s friend who came here to interview, did he get that job? Is he single? How old is he?”, or maybe you can even wait for us to tell you he is single and all that. I’ll love to hook you all up, so then maybe we can all have a REAL conversation.

The Well Educated who tell you they are Well Educated. I love a good school as much as the next guy, maybe even more actually. But there must be something wrong with that Ivy League education of yours if it’s not really coming through and making itself obvious. Do you have to tell me the name of your school in your second sentence to me? If you’re hoping that that name will do your work for you and impress everyone at the table, you’re a little mistaken. It’s still just a school, and you might have got all those A’s too but show me you are not flunking life and then I’m your friend. The whole purpose of education is to turn mirrors into windows, and when I hear that opening line of yours, I can see you’re still stuck at the mirror.

The Nearly Famous. In Their Minds. These are the famous name droppers. “Do you know Mr. & Mrs ***? You don’t?” There’s a little pause there when you register the dismay, disappointment and surprise in their eyes that you have not rubbed shoulders with the rich-n-famous Indians of the New England area. And it’s almost 2 WHOLE YEARS since we have moved here! Oh Lord! No, sometimes, I don’t even know OF these people, let alone know them. “O well, we were at their party last Saturday, they auctioned off some of their paintings you know, for charity” “Verrry nice people, you should meet them” they sing. Their purpose met after those names have been mentioned, they usually drift off after a few of these lines. They have told this table they are famous. They need to enlighten the next one now.


The Used To Be Nearly Famous. Now this is a sad breed. As they live in the past and then they expect you to live it with them when they tell you ALL ABOUT IT. It’s very depressing to watch. These are the ones who knew the Tatas and the Birlas or worse, the Abhisheks and the Kareenas or the Madhavans and the Trishas. Their sisters and brothers and cousins were all classmates of the Stars. And they would all come home, the Stars, that is. Yes, all the time. In fact they still party with them when they’re home in Andheri or wherever, and like crazy! "O Madhavan is a real flirt when he’s drunk!" It’s all very buddy-buddy. It’s all very OVER. We are not 19 here, lets save the gushing for meaningful things, like the food.

I could go on but I think I’ll stop. I’ll like to keep the remaining ones. There's a party on Friday and there's no point messing up the weekend plans. Well, till this greedy child of mine, namely this blog, asks for more, more, more. Eventually I know I will relent.