Of Devils and Details...

The Devil is in detail, they say. I say, not always! Most of the times, it's the little things that matter. For example, a pinch of cardamom in that tea makes all the difference. From being just tea, it becomes Tea. Or, a little chip in your nail-polish can ruin your whole impression! I always pay attention to details. It is those little details that make a pleasing whole. But remember, it can work both ways.

This one time, I was in Bangalore (which is one of my favourite cities, by the way) and was visiting a famous temple. We had to stand in a queue for a really long time. As it is my favourite past time, I began observing other people. What they were wearing, how they were dressed...etc. I like to make guesses about their background, personality & nature. I'm not bragging, but I am right most of the times. Anyway, I noticed this guy, a village guy, must be around 18, wearing shabby but not unclean clothes, standing in the queue. His hair was weired, he was not shaved...normally, no one would ever give him a second look. Being inside the temple, we all had to remove shoes outside the temple premises. When I saw his feet, I was surprised. They were extremely clean! He had clean toes, no signs of hangnails, nails neatly clipped & the skin of the feet was moisturised. That's when I decided he must be a guy from a village (obviously) but he must be rich & must never have done any outdoor-type work.

To quote another incident, I was at my Dad's resort having a cup of tea with my sister. My Dad was sitting just across the room with a person who was giving him a presentation quite enthusiastically. I mean literally, the guy was bouncing in his seat. I saw that the guy was wearing a white shirt with the top button undone, grey trousers, & a grey jacket. He was wearing brown crocodile scaled shoes. I thought, Aahaa! gotcha! You are not what you try to portray my dear friend! I could even get a sneak peak at his white *gasp* socks!

So I texted my Dad & asked if I could come over. He said yes, and me and my sister Pester joined them. My Uncle M was listening to the guy, mesmerised. My Dad was looking interested. And I was trying not to count his 37 mistakes in every sentence he spoke. Later he even gave my Dad a presentation on the some lame dances he had arranged for some "yelite" (that's the way he pronounced elite) clients. The presentation was fantastic. They had this whole Arabian theme with - hear this - balle dancing (pleeese do not make me explain that it was belly dancing)!! I have never practiced so much self control! Pester was sitting a little behind the group and was shaking suspiciously. I willed myself not to look at her, or I would be in splits!

After the 'meeting', I just said to my Dad, "No way, you've got to be kidding me! You are not thinking of hiring him?!?!" My Uncle M butted in, "No, no, he's too pro-Islam...won't do for our clients...didn't you see his emphasis on Arabian theme?"

That's when I lost it and laughed my ass off!! :-)