Just the Way You Are by Sanjeev Ranjan

that after making us wait for three hours, you realize that she is on leave.’
    He ignored this and shouted again, ‘Those who are waiting for Ms Vandana can wait for her in the canteen. She is coming in ten minutes.’
    Almost all the girls walked towards the canteen. No one followed behind me as I ventured towards the exit.
    There were no girls in my domain expertise! What the hell! Was this my destiny? I left the office building.
    Nothing seemed to go right that day. I couldn’t sleep properly, nor could I eat or take rest. Everything was chaotic inside my head and the HR issue was making me completely worked up. The only respite was the weather. Surprisingly it was cooler and the breeze seemed to be very unlike Delhi. I was hungry too, so got myself some patties. I could keep the leftovers in my room in case I felt like eating more later. I decided to go to Connaught Place again. It would look different during the day. I was clearer then. A circular block of art, I would say. The architecture was British, no doubt, but now all of those buildings were replaced by mega-shopping malls and stores. It was grandiose everywhere. People came in hordes to buy things, some of them just lingering, enjoying the place, some licking ice-cream sticks and talking of the weather, all sporting shades and brands. In the inner circular block was a garden with young couples flirting around the bushes. Evening had come down like silk and the place looked spectacular. I was thrilled.
    ‘Oh god! Where the hell did I spend my youth? The real heaven is here,’ I whispered to myself when I saw the golden Delhi girls moving around flamboyantly. Their tongues rolled around the ‘R’s and their accent could give Emma Watson a run for her money! I was bowled over by their exclamations. I tried imitating them. But each time I did, my tongue stuck midway and my throat failed me. I laughed at myself. My tone seemed so rough and broken. Someday I would, I must strive to achieve what had escaped me so far. And speaking fluent English was definitely on the list. I too would give others a run for their money. Some of the girls had taken the arms of their boyfriends and were walking around the inner circle. Something pinched at my heart. I felt deprived all over again.
    What could you have expected from someone who had spent four years of his youth in some remote village doing an engineering course? I had almost forgotten that there was a world outside and in that world, there were, of course, beautiful girls. Life had so far been an abyss of unending monotony and tedium. I had almost come to believe that beautiful girls were to be found only in TV ads and in movies. Whenever some of the boys, like me, cursed their fate of having landed up in this ghetto of darkness, guys from the metro cities would encourage us. They would ask us to not to let go of hope and assure us that beautiful girls were for real and were not just limited to TV and soaps. One day I was online on Facebook trying to the best of my abilities to befriend a new chick. ‘So, what are doing? Checking out hot girls?’
    ‘Yes, of course. Though our college has hordes of such girls,’ I sneered.
    He laughed. ‘Really? When I first came here, I thought I’d set myself up with any of the college girls and get some bang-bang, but now I honestly feel that I must propose to my Dilliwaali friend or she might too get out of my hands. The system is changing too fast there, yaar.’
    ‘Is it so? I mean, how?’
    ‘Ah! The point is, in Delhi you will find every girl attractive and if someone is not then she will do it artificially.’
    ‘Artificially? What do mean?’
    ‘She will spend half her day in the parlour and spend all her father’s money on perming her hair, getting a new hairstyle, and indulge in numerous other things like facial and massages and what not. Everything that can and will make her look no less than a Paris fashion-week model. Get my point? Heavy eyeliner, mascara,