This was not a typical society bash where it is more or
less the norm to see such examples of exhibiting hypocritical affection. This
was the open house of a high school!
Being an “old” mother (this was my second child) I always
went to such get- togethers to show my face to the teachers, try and wrest some
information (Hopefully good ones) from them, (Believe me it’s tough!) and maybe
meet a few parents with whom I share the common denominator of having a child
in the same grade.
I had done half the rounds by this moment; had walked
four floors up and down twice; was taking my breath, having coffee and snacks
which the school so thoughtfully provide us with. I had a ten minutes break
before my next appointment.
I had just come in a year ago to the city and I knew that
my child would pass out in a year more, so the real enthusiasm was lacking.
I didn't know many of the parents (though I smiled at everyone!). My
socializing at the parent’s get- together had made me friends with the younger
ones whose children were in the lower grade so I knew them well
but didn't know the older ones very well.
The faces were familiar though… So one of the
enthusiastic parents came over and said, “Have you met Sandy?”
I looked up expecting to see an expat, when I saw a nice plump Indian in a tight black frock; a seven-inch heel; a pair of danglers swinging fiercely and hair set in curls looking at me expectantly, I was a little dazzled!
I had noticed her in some of the meetings and had seen
her go and hug some of the teachers. I am a strict “hand shaker” greeter so
though I was surprised, I assumed she must know them well enough for the
society greeting!
“Hi” I said, extending my hand towards her.
I was first given a thorough look over (dressed in jeans
and a shirt with low heels- I was no society beauty!) Then a limp hand was
offered for a hand shake...
“Oh Hi!” Sandy screeched
After I introduced myself, my friend went on gushing over
her
“You know? You must get to know Sandy. She knows
everybody here; if she doesn't know someone then they are not worth
knowing”
That put me in my place squarely!
I said, “I didn't get your name”
A tinkle of laughter followed, “Well I am Sandhya
Agarwal” (pronounced as Sandya Eggwal!). “I am Sandy’s mother”
I was flummoxed! Both mother and daughter with the same
name?
“Is your daughter’s name also Sandhya?” I asked
“Oh no, no, no!” she intoned while her danglers jingled
merrily, “My son’s name is Sandeep” (pronounced as Sandep!) “Where are you
from?” she drawled.
“From India” I said shortly
She tinkled again, “I mean where did you shift from, the
USA?”
Fortunately another skin clad, diamond clad parent
appeared and the Muah Muah routine began so I was able to slip away.
She caught me at the next break!
“I know your daughter” (pronounced daughta!). I felt a
draught hit me!
“How nice” I lamely remarked
“I know everyone, I have been subbing* in school, you
know”
“How nice” I parroted
“Yeah, but not this year, I am going to the USA” she said
importantly with a curl of the lips. “My sister lives in Boston”
“Hi Sandy!” another butterfly flitted close to us this was
followed by the “Ritual”.
“How was your sale?”
“Darling” she protested, “An exhibition, not a sale”
Abashed the butterfly decided she had made a faux pa and
started sidling away.
I was back again in the glare, and I squirmed. There was
still another five minutes left.
“I design jewellery” (pronounced joolery!)
“Oh”
“I sold out, you know!”
Bewildered I looked at her.
“My joolery exhibition” she gently reminded me.
“That’s great”, I put in a lot of admiration in my voice.
“Would you like to look at some?” quickly before I could disappear,
she fished out a visiting card and gave it me. “Give me a tinkle; I will
organize a private exhibition for you. Get your friends and relatives too” she
cooed.
I escaped to the next meeting. Thankfully her son was not
taking that subject so I was spared another exhibition.
While walking back, I met one of my young friends and she
asked me about Sandy with a smirk on her face.
I was surprised; I wondered how she knew that I had met
her.
“Well, Sandy pointed you out to me and asked me who you
were”
“So?”
“I told her that you were very rich; eccentric and
asocial, that she should not be taken in by your simple attire, as everything
you wore never cost less than 3000 $”
“Oh my God!”
That explained her interest in me and her zooming in to
me whenever she found me alone!
In these multicultural events, I find the Japanese the
most dignified. It is a pleasure to watch them. They have adopted the western
attire in such a way that it suits them and they are never embarrassed about
their accent or try to put up one. There are quite a few Indians who are also
as elegant but a single Sandy can destroy the grace and dignity built up by
them.
I walked up to my car and opened it.
“Hello”
I looked up startled
“No Driver?” Sandy cooed
“No” I smiled, “I like driving”
“Anytime you need one, tell me, I will arrange one”
“Thanks”
“May I have your number?”
I gave it to her reluctantly and wondered how much she
would badger me if I had given her the right one!
*Substitute teacher
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