Before you read this, read Part 3: A Canopy of a Trouble
Of the five buckets crammed with them, three were overcrowded with the short 'ladies' umbrellas and two were bursting with the long 'grandpapa' ones. The manly black ones had obviously packed up and left.
The ladies umbrellas seemed to have gotten drunk and run amuck in the colour department. Three shades of yellow had exploded very near to seven variations of thundering red. The resulting mess had splattered itself on a big blob of purple. Amidst all of this, a loud piercing electric blue decided to hold a metallic rock concert under a canopy of flourescent pink. And headbanging to its music were the trademark flowers from Yashraj films: bright yellows, bright oranges, and bright reds--all hankering for space on a sea of flourescent green. Evidently, the ladies in Pune let their colours do the talking, dancing, and what not.
The grandpapa umbrellas were no less of an oddity. The same colourful pandemonium repeated itself in the buckets holding them as well, but the noise was comparatively less. A few sported quiet riots and a couple of the others seemed educated in the art of subtlety. Amongst these I spotted a navy blue umbrella riddled with white and pale blue stars. Next to it was a black number. I picked that up and immediately put it back: It sported the 'Taj Hotels, Mumbai' logo, which was impressive, but the threads at its hem that threatened a 'wardrobe malfunction' took all my impressions away. I went back to the white and pale blue stars.
Its handle was nice - made of light brown wood. And its ribs used the same type of wood as well. As for its canopy, it did not exactly seem out of the world, but it did look as if it had robbed off a portion of the sky out of sheer desperation. Well, I was desperate too - for an umbrella of course. If I were to stick to the 'manly black' rule, I would never get one in a day.
But there still remained the question of the looks. You see, like it or not, not everyone here (in India) gives a damn for what the other is up to. And so, even if you as much as grow your hair a little longer, a dozen looks come your way. Now it's not really the looks that bother me, it's their time span. The last time I grew my hair in Mumbai, people made it a point to stare at me for 30 seconds before smirking, smiling, and going about their business. So, I knew that, in Pune, an innocent umbrella - with stars white and blue! - would guarantee all that and an audience amidst a traffic jam as well!
I know it's rather silly to think this way, but well, I had a cold. Silly things do take over rationale when my nose refuses to stop crying. Luckily, I did have some common sense left in the right side of my head. And this common sense of mine is quite a jolly good fellow. He brought it to my notice that - you know - what I do is my own bloody blasted business. And that minding people minding my business is akin to taking on some extra business. Now I do not, never will, and never shall work beyond business hours. And my own business itself is enough to deal with.
So, in the end, I did just what I was supposed to: I blew my nose into oblivion and bought the star-spangled canopy. The people, traffic, and everything in between can bloody well go get themselves one as well!
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