Shopping for pants

I was wandering with S at the Ansal Plaza. Loitering (in this `first' mall that we ever went to) is all we ever do here. Usually, that is. We had just had huge burgers at McDonald's and were feeling mighty pleased with ourselves. And so we went about gazing at windows of Lacoste, UC of Benetton's, Music World, Marks and Spencer and Planet Sports. S decided we should go CD hunting in Music World. So I followed him inside, and after a while he turned up raving about a combo CD he had found with Zeher and Dhoom songs. I picked up a Kaagaz Ke Phool vcd but kept it back after remembering the chaotic state of my home presently and the fact that my vcd player was in one home and my tv in another. Now, I was left feeling distinctly left out of this very rare shopping outing. I believe this low feeling is what gave me the idea to shop for a pair of pants as we passed by Shopper's Stop. That and the fact that the time was ripe to put my first five-year-plan about procuring much needed trousers into action.

So I dragged S with me, who could not believe I was willing to go shop of my own free will. After passing through sections selling watches, perfumes, cosmetics, belts, luggage we managed to clamber out of the first floor to the second. Now, as S has reminded me a hundred times, that the second floor is the ladies section, but my suicidal tendencies tend to drag me to that door, every time I climb those stairs. S, being the good friend that he is, managed to guide me to the third floor and we landed in a brightly lit hall, lined on both sides with stacks and stacks of denim pants.

I took a minute to breathe in the choices: Lee, Levi's, Wrangler, Pepe and perhaps a few more. A goofy looking chap with a huge grin turned up like djinn, "What are you looking for sir?" "Ah! well... I am just... browsing." He was suitably impressed with my answer and left me to my own designs. I saw straight, loose, bootcut, low waist, super low waist. S stood smiling, while I was trying to make up my mind about which of these made the most sense. A low waist was not a good idea. I have a bad habit of forgetting to put on my belt. That's when the low waist tends to go super low and whatever that ad on the tele shows (with the svelte examination invigilator checking for chits of paper in all the right places), I not a very have-it-so-flaunt-it kind of guy (primarily because I am not so sure of the have-it part). The chart showing the ladies fits had an ultra low too, and as I was checking out the model on the poster, the wide-grin-guy passed me giving me a even wider grin! Eeeks!

I quickly rectified my posture to a more dignified stand, and asked "Where can I see corduroys?" "Here sir, and here and there." "Thank you." S decided to intervene, "Abe tu kar kya raha hai?" I explained to him I had just remembered that I desperately needed a pair of black corduroys. "Excuse me, I want black corduroys, do you have those?" "Sirji, black...emmm." He made an expression which seemed to suggest I had just asked him the whereabouts of the treasure of the Templars. "Here sirji, this is it." With the enthusiasm of a greyhound returning a ball I had asked him to fetch, he handed me a Lee. I promptly unfolded the thing, and headed toward the changing rooms. There I saw a lady banging on the door of a changing room shouting "Does it fit? Show me!" I found the room which was farthest away from her and started... well... trying on. And what do I find? The very-eager-to-help chap had handed me a waist 28! Now, I am no in shape to compete in the Gladrags Manhunt, so I promptly went out and handed it back. S was fuming by now. It was already over an hour since I had started... browsing!

After much searching, I unearthed a Levi's corduroy in khaki. It was the perfect size, and when I tried it on, it felt just right. So I asked S, "How does this look?" "Hmmm theek hai. Will go with any dark t-shirt" Just to torture him a little, I randomly picked up another pair of washed out black jeans and asked "This or that." S gave me the most murderous of looks. I decided not to tempt fate any further and promptly walked off to the payment counter. Finally I came out of the store, the proud owner of a pair of khaki corduroys. I treated S to chocolate chip ice cream just to calm his nerves a little bit, and to complete this harrowing albeit perfect shopping experience.

And now for the next five years, shopping for pants goes right to the bottom of the todo list!