The story of one particular four lettered word which has captured all life forms alike (No, I am not talking about the F-word here, but then which could also fit the bill if you think) is amazing. A few posts before this one, right here (read it if you haven’t already)I had mentioned about one of my classmates in the programme, a comrade from Belgrade, Serbia.
So the tough talking, straightforward guy who has seen much of life thanks to the erstwhile Yugoslavian era always has a story or two to tell us. And almost all of them mostly end with, “fuck these Americans!” The ring masters that they have been have managed to tear apart the Balkans and much of the republic of erstwhile is slowly coming over the damage of war and bloodshed. Hearing his tales, one feels his hatred is justified in more ways than one.
So me and this man got talking about life apart from wars and political carnage. And as soon as the topic of relationships and love hit the forefront, he had a story there too. But unlike the others, where the narration is quite raw and unemotional laced with concern, he was a picture of emotion and it was showing up on his face black and blue.And then he went pink, when prodded further and our lunch served as a perfect occasion for another wonderful piece.
And when the tables turned, it was time for me to spill my side of the story. And what did I have to say? Nothing. And as is with the westerners, the curiosity to know why/why not was evident. Funny though I ended up telling a very cliched remark, but on an afterthought praised myself for my poise in handling it. For if you asked me, I sense the europeans are running on a shortage crisis when it comes to women. Everyone I have met till today are in a relationship from age 16-17, some with the same guy, some different (ranging from 2 to half a dozen in some cases). And that is when I understand the difference in mentality.
A country of billion would have several fish in the pond and so we can wait. Much to my surprise, he bought that counter quite well.