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College, confusion and romance - Part I
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 Tonight, I decided to chill. In Californian plain-speak this meant I was planning to meet up with my friend Sandra at the bowling alley. A few of us usually met once a week after a hectic Monday to Friday at college. It was chance to take a breather from the dusty shelves of the libraries and boring mundane world of studies.
The group of girls I was meeting tonight are a fun lot, but we sort of stick out in more ways than one. Some might say we're ethically enhanced. In other words we are all from visible minorities with the exception of my only "American" friend Sandra.
There's Malti, a scholarly type, who could never think of getting married. She's working on her thesis for her doctorate in philosophy and believes that men should be considered a standby and not a source of enjoyment. You know the type, the ultimate super kid, the one that made an effort to join each and every association, and always had to check her schedule to fit you in. She's the one every Indian boy's mother would wish her son would bump into in the library or something.
She's the type that's just as comfortable playing on the College volleyball team as she is frying samosas for her family. She's perfect.
Fatima, another friend, was from a conservative and yet modern Muslim Californian family. She wore a scarf (Hermes), and designer jeans which contrasted obviously with her runners. She enjoyed bowling and would come with us to the pub where all the college students frequented on weekends. She was well liked, but she only drank soft drinks out of respect for her religion.
She believed in woman's rights, but like all of us she knew for many of us the world was dictated by men.
My MP3 player was crooning Celine Dion's ,'I'm Alive'..." and I was jolted into the present. I realized I was late so I rushed to get ready.
The others, Tina and Payal, were a lot like me. Tina was still uncertain what she wanted to be "when she grows up". Like me. I still wasn't sure. Tina was also finishing her degree in a general arts program which according to most Indians was a "barely anything" program. Unlike me she was proceeding to India in the summer to find a "suitable boy" from a respectable, educated family that was looking as the ad said, "for a nice homely girl with a wheatish complexion and who was at least a B.A."
But I promise you the boy that met Tina would certainly be floored she certainly had spinned a few heads in our College and to call her a stunner would be an understatement. She was something!
Tonight, tonight, well tonight...
We might, no we we're planning to hopefully meet some boys. Well not exactly some boys, but a particular boy. His name was Rahul Khanna. And for lack of a better description he was a dream. But I dare not say anything out loud. Knowing my Mother before I even say, "Hi!" She would probably have us doing the sath pheras and feeding us mithai. I could just imagine her oozing with joy as Rahul and I took our marital vows.
Yikes... Now I am beginning to sound like her. I hadn't even left for the bowling alley, or met Rahul with the exception of the debate team on Wednesdays, the hallway after lunch on Thursdays, and in the Canteen where I purposely walked to the back of the line pretending to forget to pick up some jello.
Rahul was just that and much much more. What can you say about Rahul Khanna? He had all the nerds looking up to him, and all the jocks hi-fiving him. He was all that plus much much more. At least in my eyes. One slight small oversight in this daydream equation. He was also dating my best friend or rather my best Indian friend, Payal.
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