Disc it is!
We had gone to a Disc. The days of seventies where you went to a Disco were over. There were no pubs or retro bars. There were five star hotels which had discs with fancy names. He was there in a plain beige shirt and worn out jeans. A cool dude in the days when all men wore black or black. He was wheatish, super fit and clean. Most men that time had this funny unkempt look about them.I liked that in books but in real life, clean men were what I liked. We all girls were so happy dancing.
Music was our cocktail. You could only afford one thing in those days. So you either paid the entrance to a Disc or you paid for your drink. Letting someone else pay for your drink was a complete No No. One learnt to protect themselves in a city even when no real protection was required. We always stuck to our gang of girls. French fries were eaten as hostelites were always hungry post dinner. If a man rather a boy approached you, you were cocooned by your girlfriends. No chance of anyone getting fresh. The DJ was a friend. The table was always the first from the dance floor so you could see all moves that were happenning on and off the floor. The dark or dimly lit corners of the Disc were not for us.
He came to talk to all of us. He did not single any one girl out. His clothes had set him apart also his clean move. He danced with all six of us. He chatted and no wise cracks. He did not have any cheap friends. He was liked by all. He did not offer to pay for anything. In fact he had the post midnight coffee which we all split for. In those days, how we split thirty four Rupees I dont know. He said he will call on monday. This was saturday night. I was very excited. Rushed with a friend to buy a new faded jeans just like his and teamed it with a bright red shirt. I shampooed my hair on sunday for his call on monday. His name was Eustace. Had never even heard such a tough name before. I was pretty sure he was going to come to see me on monday evening. What he did for a living, we never understood or cared. Monday the lectures were a breeze. I was waiting for the evening. The evening came and went. All of us waited in anticipation of his arrival. All somehow dressed in a not so obvious way. The call never came. We all did not have his number. Later a friend told me that he had called one of the other girls to say he wont be coming. On saturday night, he had mentione to five out of the six girls that he will come to see her as he would like to know her better. Each friend kept this conversation away from the others. I was too excited to be quiet about it. I had shared my joy with all of them and all who cared to listen.
I was stunned to hear that he had called one of us and he had said the same to the other five of us. Friends who never told me about it even while I was swooning over him. I felt betrayed.
Did I say I liked clean men?
Music was our cocktail. You could only afford one thing in those days. So you either paid the entrance to a Disc or you paid for your drink. Letting someone else pay for your drink was a complete No No. One learnt to protect themselves in a city even when no real protection was required. We always stuck to our gang of girls. French fries were eaten as hostelites were always hungry post dinner. If a man rather a boy approached you, you were cocooned by your girlfriends. No chance of anyone getting fresh. The DJ was a friend. The table was always the first from the dance floor so you could see all moves that were happenning on and off the floor. The dark or dimly lit corners of the Disc were not for us.
He came to talk to all of us. He did not single any one girl out. His clothes had set him apart also his clean move. He danced with all six of us. He chatted and no wise cracks. He did not have any cheap friends. He was liked by all. He did not offer to pay for anything. In fact he had the post midnight coffee which we all split for. In those days, how we split thirty four Rupees I dont know. He said he will call on monday. This was saturday night. I was very excited. Rushed with a friend to buy a new faded jeans just like his and teamed it with a bright red shirt. I shampooed my hair on sunday for his call on monday. His name was Eustace. Had never even heard such a tough name before. I was pretty sure he was going to come to see me on monday evening. What he did for a living, we never understood or cared. Monday the lectures were a breeze. I was waiting for the evening. The evening came and went. All of us waited in anticipation of his arrival. All somehow dressed in a not so obvious way. The call never came. We all did not have his number. Later a friend told me that he had called one of the other girls to say he wont be coming. On saturday night, he had mentione to five out of the six girls that he will come to see her as he would like to know her better. Each friend kept this conversation away from the others. I was too excited to be quiet about it. I had shared my joy with all of them and all who cared to listen.
I was stunned to hear that he had called one of us and he had said the same to the other five of us. Friends who never told me about it even while I was swooning over him. I felt betrayed.
Did I say I liked clean men?
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