Date fate!

By Ayesha R. Rafiq

Hey Guys! Hot date tonight? Wondering what to wear and what perfume she might like? Have you figured out a place to take her yet, somewhere that won't bust your next two months' pocket money? Hmm, wonder if loud and crowded are her style or quiet and slow. Gosh, it must be so nerve-wracking.

After months of flirting and trying oh so hard to act like friends, while all the time passing hints during your late night 'friendly' chats on the phone, you don't want to blow things on your very first date.

But...do you ever wonder, however hard you try, what break down 'she' gives all her vulture-like, sorry, eager friends. How she interpreted what you thought was a very interesting discussion on your past love life? Did she like the king prawns you ordered especially for her, over which you had to slip the waiter your imitation Pierre Cardin wristwatch when you couldn't quite meet the bill?

Well guys, read for the first time an almost totally candid account of what we talk about after a date with the male of the species. And take heed, this is not for the faint hearted.

She has just got back after her date. It's ten o'clock at night, and all you want to do is dream about every single second of the date. She runs to the phone and calls her best friend. During the conversation every single detail from your nose hair to your table manners will be scrutinised in detail.

Gayathri, a 21-year-old with a somewhat interesting sense of humour says, 'What do I discuss about a guy after a date? Oh, my God! Everything!' She giggles. Pretty much a wrap up of the wringer the date is put through. And if it survives the first conversation, then things are looking good.

The conversation usually starts off with 'Well, how did it go?' Then the usual 'So did he try to smooch you? No? Good for him. He held hands with you? How romantic! Where did you guys go? Oh, no, not there. But it's so crowded and full of weird people.' That's definitely a minus point for him.

After the mundane details are established, things get more personal. 'He picked his nose when he thought you weren't looking? Ew, drop him, drop him. How gross. He wore what? Kurta? Yes, yes, yes, now there's a man with taste. And Burberry's? Hmm, so did he smell good enough to eat or what?' Snicker, snicker. 'Yeah, he does have a gorgeous bum, doesn't he? And his hands, oh, I would die to hold them. They're so strong and masculine. Did I ever tell you that Nihal doesn't have a single hair on his hands. I'm sure he shaves it all off. Yuck. He smokes? That's ten minus points there. Do you know that Sashi, Varuni's boyfriend spends half his salary on cigarettes? Talk about a loser. He didn't shave? The man does not care for you. What kind of gross guy would take you out for a date and not shave?'

This is a conversation the Mirror Magazine put together after talking to several young female of the species, who by the way, are supposed to be deadlier than the male. Due to space constraints however, we cannot reproduce a full conversation, which could last anything from one to two hours.

But rest assured, some of the other main details of conversation will be, 'What did he order for you, did he pull out your chair for you to sit, did he pay for the meal, did he give you any chocolates or flowers when you met him, is his car clean, had he polished his shoes, had he combed his hair extra nice, etc., etc., etc.' And rest assured, if the answers to these questions are no, then you'll have a hard time getting another date with her.

And guys, if you're thinking it can't be that bad, trust me, it's worse.

007 on campus

Ever since word got around about this column, I seem to have earned the reputation of an undercover agent. Well, almost. Many of my friends think twice about what they say to me, fearing I would turn around and report them. The most innocent of questions are suspected as having an ulterior motive. I find this discretion rather amusing. At times, it's absolutely annoying. Human behaviour makes fascinating study, only it has to be spontaneous.

My strong hostility towards machismo often puts me at loggerheads with my male friends. Whatever the subject of discussion, it inevitably leads to one thing: men versus women. Third party intervention is always welcome when the argument becomes heated and insults are traded, with neither side willing to give up. I just don't get it. Do men really think they run the universe? Bah.

Sometimes I wonder if we have things too easy. Just the other day I saw this cobbler at campus, a wisp of a man, having lunch. He'd been there all along, yet something about him made me take a close look for the first time.

He was bent double over his lunch, his fragile frame propped up on one elbow. Slowly munching on his food, he looked as if he was in a trance. A pained expression gloomed his face. We university students rave and rant about the slightest injustice. But that poor soul seated there on the pavement baking in the sun tries to make ends meet without a mumble of protest. I didn't know whether to feel sorry for him or for ourselves.

With the exam just a hop, skip and jump away, everybody seems to be in a frenzy. It's one mad rush to catch up on missed lectures, read piles of books and notes, do reference, write term papers...One cannot get enough of those 24 hours. The workload to be finished fray the tempers; the deadlines to be met set the teeth on edge. The last-minute people find themselves in the soup. Overwhelming is the temptation to cut corners, but then nobody gets away with a shoddy job.

Even in the midst of this hysteria, there are those who find the time for a little bit of fun. A newly-crowned Romeo is often an easy target. The congratulations come in the form of a bucketful of water. Dripping from head to toe, the poor fellow just has to grin and bear it while his chums have a whale of a time at his cost. The moral is keep your business under wraps and spare yourself a lot of embarrassment.

University life is not just plain sailing. One has to forgo many a pleasure, especially when it comes to food. More often than not a Chinese roll or a bun with a cup of hot plain tea makes their staple diet. Those who bring food from home readily share it with their less fortunate pals. They may be poles apart in terms of ideas and opinions, background and social status, but that sense of camaraderie is what makes them one big happy family.

Less than three months ago I would not have thought it possible. It's amazing how certain things grow on us. On my first day at university, I was in a daze, feeling like a fish out of water. So were most of us for that matter. Now almost at the end of our first semester, I loathe to stay home on study leave. Did somebody say man is a social animal?

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