Conversation with a pimp

Hi all, sorry for the delay. The net in my house is down and so I have to come to dad's office and pursue this blogging hobby. One strange thing I have noticed about my reader count. It seems to spike whenever I write a new blog. Now if I was a very popular blogger, this would have been an easily understood trend. One or two people checking, then news spreading out, and count spiking whenever there is something new to offer.

But being a struggling blogger(an analogy for struggling actor, as opposed to star-son) its a little hard to imagine how this goes on. Obviously news doesn't float around that there's a new post but that my fans check regularly. Also once a post is read, I don't expect people to refresh 10-15 times, meaning that each person reading equates to one addition to the count. Now the only explanation I can think of, is that every time someone finds a new post, he/she looks around here and there, and in turn increases the count. But even this sounds silly because what newer things can you find on a blog than a new post. If anyone has anything to say to this do comment.

IMP NOTE: In case after reading the entire post, I hurt or misguide anyone please don't consider me to be an ass on the pretext of this incident (... if you though so before, I have no problem) I wasn't drunk when I did this, and it was just for a some adventure, as I was a little bored that nothign interesting had happenned. The story has been extremely exaggerated, and just to reiterate I am still the nice, sweet, smiling Arjun that you all know and love, just a little more adventurous.

Coming back to the point. Yes.... ROADTRIP. As I said before, and if I didn't let me say now, about a dozen of my friends, wingies at some point of my BITSian life, and who had been to Goa for PS-1 and who obviously hadn't had enough of this place, despite my terrible hostship during their stay(I was never with them, which in a way was good, because after their time here, they know more about Goa than I do... woh kehte hain na, ghar ki murgu daal barabar) felt that they needed to return despite the short span of holidays. And December being the peak tourist season, the incentive was more the stuff on the beaches, than the beaches themselves. Running, sun bathing, playing and moving freely on the beaches, as nature meant them to be. :)

The first day was a roadtrip, and just that. People from PS-1 will realize how silly the route was that we took, but this was because it was meant to be a roadtrip and nothing more. So we went to Panaji from Margao, shifted to our rooms, and came back all the way to Palolem and biked our way back.

At the end, the bikers.. that is me, Karan, Raghav, Manav and Karthik had our pelvic regions screaming for rest, but we went on. The weather was great, the roads even better and with the wind blowing and natural scenic sights left and right what more could you ask for. Most of the time we went through places where there was just the green of trees, brown of hills and blue of the sky all around us, and not having to deal with the usual rain water pelting downfrom above, was just what we needed to put the accelerators on full throttle and just sway to the curvy roads.

We reached Palolem, walked and talked for some time, and came back to Colva(near Margao) for dinner. the dinner was great, and what happenned afterwards even better.

After dinner, when we were walking back to our bikes, I noticed a slip of paper tucked near the handle bar of one bike. What I saw shocked, surprised, roflmaod and gagged me. Shocked because it had never occurred to me that we decent looking 20 somethings looked like that sort of people, surprised because the slip proved that we looked otherwise, roflmao and shocked(for e-illiteates rolling on the floor laughing my ass off) because the whole thing was too good and funny to be true. This is the second type of incident that I spoke of im my previous blog. Now I still have the slip tucked inside mywallet for proof. Let me type it out for you. On one side was"Waiter" and on the other, "Priya Madam, All Girls, and a phone number"

We all looked at each other, we had here an opportunity to make this day truly memorable. Needless to say, though we would state otherwise, at one point of time we were hesitant. But I was determined to make the most out of this opportunity. Also we had plenty of phones that wouldn't be of any use later, so Barun handed me his phone and I volunteered. I dialled the number and waited for the ringing. The call was busy. A few wanted to back out, but I said let's try again and this time it rang. If we had thought this through, probably the idea would have sounded really stupid and I would've cut the phone now. But being so spontaneous, we went through with it.

Don't ask me how but from what I heard, I could tell that this was a young teenage girl, with a dark complexion and black uncaring and staring eyes, wearing a yellow salwar with a green dupatta, with two pony tails with red ribbons on them. This is the mental picture I had of this girl, more from the image that Hindi movies have given me than from a proper knowledge of things.

Me: Hello, actually hum 13 log hain, Punjab se, Goa aaye hain. Humein yeh number mila and...(I just let my voice trail, this wouldn't even out me in a bad light in case it was a wrong number and also the point was conveyed to the right number.)

Girl: Abhi Priya madam hain nahin. Main aapko rates bata deti hoon. (Now by now I had figured out the first point, and the second confirmed our suspicion)

Me: Haan, to batao.

Now she asked me a whole lot of questions, which were mainly to confirm my authenticity as a potential customer and that I wasn't a police officer or any threat. It was easy to dodge them. So basically we were a group of 13 people, students form a college in Punjab, Punjabis by origin(mu indi is really that good you know :) ) come to Goa for two weeks for... ahem fun. We were staying in Mapusa and had come to Colva for dinner, when we received this note from a waiter of XXX hotel.(hehehe... did you think I'd tell you that too. We had two bikes and a car.

Girl: Theek hai(with a satisfied sigh) so rates hain. indian ka do hazaar aur foreign ka teen.

Me: Foreign mein kya kya hai?

Girl: Indonesian, Nepali... and a few more random countries.

Me: AIDS WAIDS ka koi certificate hai kya.

Girl: (Now this is a prize winning line) Agar darte ho, to karte kyon ho. itna hi dar hai, to mummy papa se bolkar shaadi karlo. itna risk to lena hi padega.

I was shocked at what she had said. Obviously she was hardened by life and didn't hesitate from showing it. She didn't try to woo me or try to impress me with cheezy lines. She bluntly stated the facts and the risks. While most advertisements and publicity material today, try to get the customer on their side, hiding even the smallest of risks, she was candid about such a big one.

I stammered and stumbled, I had no answer to this.

By now I knew that I had been found. I just murmured a few things, said that I would call back and put down the phone.

We later joked about the whole episode over ice-cream, and I returned home with an experience to blog about and a new found respect for the oldest profession in the world.

PS: If you want the number, send me an e-mail request along with an essay stating why I should give you the number and why I am the best blogger to have ever roamed the earth :)