My hatred for moustaches started the day I met the heavily moustached Bihari, challenging the poor harmless, charming girl in the three tire compartment of Jamshedpur Bombay train. With his pan coated teeth and bushy moustache he was holding a ticket telling the girl that he was the legal occupant of the seat 9.I put on my most dignified expression and requested him to show me the ticket, which he did reluctantly. His burly form did pose a sort of numbing effect, on the security aspects of my psyche, but the chance of coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress was worth the risk. I was also stumped when I saw the seat written in that ticket as 9.But I trusted the girl, with the shy smile, who was sitting there near the window. I asked her to show her ticket and found that her seat was also 9.I do not get confused so easily but in this case I sure was. Some sixth sense (which had become a very integral part of my personality) made me check the bogey no. Bingo! His compartment was ‘A1’, and he was now contesting the’ A2’ compartment seat. With a great effort which challenged both my Hindi speaking abilities and also the patience, I was able to convince him and even escorted him to the next compartment and helped him settle down.

Now I understand why in the good old days sir Lancelot and other knights of the round table were busy rescuing damsels in distress. All said and done the act pumps adrenalin into your system and lifts you up and elevates you to high levels of self satisfaction, pride, Chivalry and ego-boost .I was preening myself and preparing myself for the-grateful -thank-you’s coming my way when I found to my dismay that (when I came back) I saw the girl busy reading a book” Good earth” by pearl s Buck. I was very disappointed at one level but was quite curious to observe the matter of fact behaviour of this girl. She was not the one to be just impressed with acts of chivalry. I settled down in the seat opposite (my seat was 12).The book had a name written “Beena Panakal “in the usual hand writng you will find typcal of these convent educated girls. You know the round stuff almost like Malayalam script. ‘Sophia College: BA second year ‘was seen prominently on the cover.

She looked up suddenly and flashed a smile and said –‘Hi! You need not have taken the trouble. I could have handled it, this keeps happening in this train’ she added with a mischievous giggle’ I thought you were the TC .That is why I gave you the ticket.’

I was quite taken aback with her statement. To be seen as a TC when you are actually a management trainee (not yet joined)of western India vegetable products (now called Wipro) does not do any great boost to your self image but actually erodes it to an abysmal degree. But for the giggle and twinkle in her eyes ,I could probably have undergone one of the greatest defeatist moments of my life .I cannot say that I was not disappointed that my rescue act did not get the visibility that it rightfully deserved but I realised I have found a good friend.  Her attitude indicated that she was a strong person who respected herself and would equate with everyone... Her non awareness of the importance of IIM Ahmadabad and IIT combination, without any sense of awe for these, her total attitude of seeing me as just a good friend took my breath away and soon we were chatting like pals who have been staying as neighbours for many years. Both of us had the upper births. Till almost One o’clock in the night ,we were just talking about many things (till the sleeping neighbours indirectly and directly indicated to us that we should call it a day or the night as the case may be).

   For the first time I tasted mutton cutlet and found out that there is not much of a difference between mutton and veg cutlets. She had brought it from home. While I was talking about my brother, whose marriage I had attended and my reason for going to Bombay (to take up my first job with western India vegetable products), she was talking about her boyfriend... I was fascinated with her description of her boyfriend’s blue eyes. She was going gaga over that and I was listening to her with rapt attention with the right encouraging noises at the appropriate time... I told her about my deep concerns of getting married. My feelings that I don’t find it comfortable going and looking at a girl being paraded for selection. Somehow it was very demeaning to me. She laughed and said -Don t worry when you go for looking at a girl for marriage, call me, I will come and tell you whether she will be suitable for you. I was also feeling safe and relieved because she was already in love with someone else  With Beena I will not have the confusion of falling in love, marriage etc as any way I can not marry a Christian. I had found a great friend.

Working in Bombay was an ordeal. I was staying at Kanjurmarg Where only the slowest of the slow trains would stop and I had to go to VT and from there walk to Goga street for going to my office. New job did not give me any time to think and soon Beena’s meeting was forgotten. Till one day I was with premji (MD of my company) returning from his club and chanced to see the name of peddar road. It struck me that Sophia college hostel where Beena was put up was somewhere near peddar road. I said to myself I should meet her some time. The psyche of a young male without a girl friend is like a ship without a rudder. I told myself-‘I am in Bombay; I know a girl whom I can visit, what is stopping me?’

After office hours the next day, I took a bus and reached Nepean sea road .I had not much of a difficulty in locating the college. Strangest of the coincidences was that as I entered the gate I found her walking from her hostel towards the college gate with a friend. I could see her face lighting up and she literally jumped up couple of inches in the air. That was the time (I would realise much later) that I started falling in love with her. I was not aware of this at that time; but looking back, the happiness, the excitement, the feelings in her face were such that she was just waiting for me to come and visit her.  We went out to the Mahalakshmi  beach. We talked about her boy friend, his blue eyes, my mother, my brother, father, my job, her studies, her friends, time just flew by....  I remember the place she took me to where I had my first chicken roll (the roll is called Frankie I guess). If I remember correctly the name of the place was Waikiki.

We were sitting a little deeper near the sea. By evening the high tide started and we had to hurry up to the shore and .By the time we went back to her college it was 10.30. after that I caught a bus to VT and took a train and reached Naval dock yard colony in Kanjurmarg (I was staying with my uncle, and auntie ) it was almost 1.00.My auntie was an understanding lady. I let myself in with a key and ate the food she had kept and then went off to sleep without disturbing my auntie uncle or the kid. From then on almost every Saturday or Sunday we would meet and go out somewhere.

Once we were inside the Hanging gardens and we did not realise that the closing time was past   . The guards had closed the gate and locked up. We had to climb the gate to come out and one of the bystanders was making comments about Bharath Ki Nari and their courage! (courage of the Indian women)  

Other time I got caught in the torrential rain while coming back from her college. All trains had stopped and I had to spend the night in the train compartment.  The next day I had to walk up to my friend’s house in Nepean Sea road, stay there for another night before I could come home. My uncle and aunty, good souls they were, never questioned me anything about my timings or my girl friends or even my job.   Beena‘s friends had coined a poem on our love, I came to know about it later..Love is coming from Kanjurmarg to VT by slow train   VT to Napean sea road by bus and meeting your girl friend and spending the night on a train compartment; mind you at that time we were just friends...

I remember that evening as I was returning by a taxi from a meeting at a hotel and we were passing by Napean sea road when I saw a site which stirred me to the core. I saw Beena walking with a Saradar and they were going towards Chowpathy beach. I was a little high as I had taken two bottles of beer. A combination of feelings inundated me .Being let down, anger towards the Sardar, anger towards the boy friend with blue eyes, anger towards my mother for making me a Brahmin...,I was in a state of daze for almost three hours. I cursed all woman who take men for a ride and then ditch them.. That was when I realised that Beena was much more than a friend to me. I realised that I was madly in love with her.  

What happened subsequently in our relationship and how I won her over from the blue eyed boy and the six abs sardar is another story.please refer to my next blog 
http://dsampath.sulekha.com/blog/post/2008/01/after-falling-in-love-with-beena-how.htm