All it took was a careless smile. I just had to smile and thus, invite noise to my lunch hour at Subway.
I took a Chicken Tikka salad alongwith me to the dining room on the first floor. I have done this before too and I finished the climbing up the stairs and pretending I am not bothered about the others in the room with clockwork precision. My only mistake today was that I sat six cms away from a gang of three - all in their early twenties and true to their age, eager to be the centre of attention.
Well, I sat and began to segregate the chicken pieces from the ocean of vegetables that Subway insists on throwing them in. The tomato slices willingly shifted aside as the fork nudged them but the cabbage - or was that celery, I am not quite sure and never will be - refused to budge without some extra prodding by the spoon.
In the meantime, the gang of three had begun to talk after initially falling silent on my arrival. No, they weren't ecstatic about the food in front of them and admiring it in awe. They were - of course - scrutinizing everyone around - me including. Analysis and observations done, they decided to criticize the music being played. I'm a Barbie Girl was being played much to my dislike and apparently, much to theirs as well.
"Oh this fellow has all eighties tracks only," I heard one of them mumbling.
It was then that I quite carelessly smiled to myself at this remark.
In retrospect, I think I should have sat stonefaced and peered into my salad. For the moment I smiled, they took it as a cue to raise their volumes enough to let me hear every syllable of their conversation.
"Oh isn't that from the nineties. Haha!"
"Yes, it is!" - this was the girl from the group, sounding all set to lead the conversation wherever she went - "It's terrible!"
I silently agreed with her, but the pitch at which she voiced her disdain was more than a mile away from agreeing with my ears.
"Ya," said one of the boys, "I wonder how people can listen to all this."
"I know!" intoned the other, loud enough for all to wake up and take notice
"You must listen to Backstreet Boys." suggested the girl.
"Backstreet Boys?" repeated one of the boys.
"Yes. They will never fade out." Evidently the girl was living a decade or two away from 2010.
"But who listens to them?"
"I do," the girl said, authority clanging in every word, "Some of my favourite music includes the Backstreet Boys and they'll always be in the news."
To that, the boys had nothing to say for they did not want a riot. So, they moved onto criticizing other musical ventures.
"You remember Brazil?"
"Yes yes!"
"That was a must at all weddings back then."
"Yes that and Saturday Night. They were a must."
"I know!"
"Then came Enrique Iglesias and his Hero."
"Oh who can forget Bailamos!"
"Yes yes!" they all nodded in unison, "Who can?"
So far so clichéd, but what followed shocked me enough to turn to stone.
"Oh!" said the guy who looked a little like a rockstar, "If you haven't heard hard rock, you don't know what you're missing."
I sensed a pause, evidently made to procure support for his statement from the other guy sitting opposite. He however dug into his sandwich. The support came - quite strangely - from the girl.
"Yes, I know! I love it all. I don't see what people find in those old Hindi songs. Rock is so much better!"
"Really now-"
"Oh the ones the actresses sang looking very sincere and serious," she continued, "I mean who needs so much of sur (melody) and taal (rhythm)?"
I had - as I said - turned to stone. I had heard people deriding songs of yore, but not because they were absolutely melodious. This girl - truly - was a rare piece of ectoplasm.
"Oh but I love old songs," countered the rockstar, "I have this whole collection of Kishore-"
"Oh Kishore is different," she cut in as her sandwich spread into a mess, "He is okay. I am talking of those songs that people listen to in the evening and fall asleep. Why don't they just fall asleep silently than put on all that noise?"
Well, the flippant manner in which all of that got out of her mouth made the boys laugh. But I am quite sure they were laughing at her than at what she had just let fly.
As for me, I dug some more into salad and wished I had not paid attention to them at all. They continued with all the talk about music, banged into different hard rock bands (Iron Maiden, Metallica, etc etc) and somehow hurtled themselves into the BBC show - Coupling.
"Oh you must watch Coupling," - this was the girl again - "amazing and funny."
"Really?"
"Yes, it's about couples. I have watched it rather regularly. You must."
"Well, I know another show that also features couples though they do explore the sex angle."
"Oh if that's the case, then you must watch Coupling. It's all about sex."
"No! No! That's not what I am trying to say!"
"Then?"
"Well, you see it's this show that's about the story of these couples and how they live their lives. Of course, they do show the sex, but they are quick scenes. It's definitely NOT all about sex you know. Don't get me wrong."
And as usual, like the boys of their age, they began to laugh.
And as usual, like the boys of their age, they began to laugh.
The girl - for a split second - was silent, then smiled and yanked out her authorative manner yet again as: "Yes, definitely, I get your point,"she said with absolute control on her nerves, "Ya I know what you mean."
The laughter subsided into some silence and then I heard her proclaim that she always made a mess of sandwiches. To this, the boys demonstrated how chivalrous they were and kept saying that that particular sandwich was always like that.
"I know! This is the second time!"
"Well, it always is, which is why I never order."
"Haha!"
And a second later, the rockstar got up to go.
"Oh you're getting up to go?"
"Yes, what else is there to do now?"
"Yes right. Let's."
And so saying, they cleared the place of their plates and their noise and left.
I wish they could clear the rumble in my head as well.
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