Tuesday, January 19, 2010


I’ve been in New York for a weekend and there are several little old ladies who live in my building, defying the stereotype that Manhattanites don’t know their neighbors. I’ve seen them curiously staring at me, I suspect because I have an international Indo-Persian-Greco-Dominican-Mediterranean look, I look everything but Indian. Upon hearing my accent, which sounds Midwest Valley Girl, they seem relived to realize I speak English, smoothly and fluently.

“Hello dear,” says little old lady number one. “Where are you from?”
“Minnesota,” I reply.
They both have this look like “oh dear, I hope she can handle the big city.” As if I have never been outside Minnesota in my entire life.
“Do you have a gate on your fire escape dear?” little old lady number two asks.
“No,” I reply. Mom thinks I am getting sundries from the bodega.
“Oh really? A single girl needs gates. Especially in this neighborhood, it is getting nicer but break-ins are on the rise. There is a locksmith on the main street. Youd should call him.”

At the bodega I ask about locksmiths and the cashier looks confused. I pay and don a Sherlock Holmes persona and walk up and down the street until I find the locksmith. I call him and he says he’ll be over tomorrow around 10:00 am does that work? I say sure and hope he is more agreeable than Time Warner Cable who is going to take two weeks to finish installing my cable and phone, despite the fact I needed high speed Internet yesterday.

That night Mom and I are exhausted and we crash out around nine p.m. I’m almost asleep when I hear noise, and bolt up in bed. It takes a few seconds, but I realize the printer has come. I throw back the covers and hurriedly turn it off, which interestingly enough has not woken my mother. Unlike the water that rattles through the radiator pipes at 6:00 and alerts Mom to the morning.

I crawl back into bed and stare at the printer. It is the size of a small space ship and has been nicknamed Rosie, as in the robot from the Jetsons. Yes, it is ridiculously huge to store in a Manhattan apartment but I need it for work. Just as I fall to sleep I remember that turning on the printer requires you to physically push a big one-inch sized button on the lower left side near the cord. I wonder if a ghost haunts my apartment. I don’t know if I am emotionally equipped to handle roaches and ghosts.

My last thought before falling asleep is, soon when all my windows have gates and I will live in my own prison, ironically, like they do in New Delhi.


Samosas for One said...

Maybe if you don't find a desi guy in NYC you should move to New Delhi. There are tons of desis there. :)

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Samosas for One ... Girl you DONT even know the HALF of it. My cousins have been pressing me to move to Bangalore for 1 year and really put the pressure on since Sept. I dont wanna go ... but the jobs are plentiful ... I just adjusted to NYC and thot of India makes me sad, making new friends, adjusting to a new time zone ... I dont know if I can do it ...

Samosas for One said...

Well NYC will always be here. Why not seriously consider going to Bangalore for a year? Live abroad, experience something different, and see...maybe he is there.

You haven't mentioned this so far on your blog so I'm wondering is there any biological clock type of concern in your life? I'm 100% not saying there should be. I was just wondering if children are something you want as I haven't read anything about that so I wasn't sure.

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Samosas for One ... yes NYC will always be there ... I dont know, I LOVE NYC, even on those days I curse my 4-floor walk up or the mean lady on the bus who doesnt think I understand English. I dont know, Bangalore is like Option D, and I am on Option B right now so we'll see.

And my clock was ticking so badly 3 years ago that it finally exploded this summer when I said, enough. I am not going to make myself crazy and marry for sake of procreation (how many more desis do we need?). This is one of the forgiveness things I spoke about in Post 1. I feel much happier now that I am not obsessed with marriage, men and mini me :)

Samosas for One said...

What was Option A?

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Samosas for One ... fall in love and get married to the desi raj of my dreams. Three years later, I have decided that it is time to change the course of my life. What is that saying? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? :)