Perhaps an arranged marriage isn't such a bad route

Due to CPHI, visiting my grandparents and seeing Harsha in Dubai, I essentially haven’t gone out in Hyderabad in about 6 weeks. I picked my triumphant return to Hyderabad nightlife by going out on a dry weekend (we have state elections on Monday, so apparently no alcohol for 2 days…don’t ask me for the logic, I don’t quite understand it) Although bars don't serve, everyone has their own stock so basically, this weekend is all house parties.

Going out was basically a complete fluke. This morning I woke up and when I called for the cook to make my breakfast, I noticed there was toast and a cold omelet on the table, already waiting for me. I was a bit irritated but didn’t think too much of it. Around 5 PM my aunt calls me to tell me the cook is in the hospital with a case of chikungunya. Since she’s unavailable, I was told I need to fend for myself over the next few days if I want to eat.

When I got home, I quickly reminded Harsha that we needed to order food. He suggested Shikar, a local Mexican place…which I shot down since we get food from there all the time. Before I know it, I’m at Hard Rock Cafe for dinner with Harsha, my other cousin Pragnya and our friend Varun. After dinner, Harsha bails and I decide to go out with Varun and his girlfriend. Due to their social obligations, we need to hit 3 parties in 4 hours across town.

The first party had no exceptional stories. After 2 hours, we headed to party #2 at the Marriot. Some 25 year old girl rented out the Presidential Suite and we partied for a bit. As we were walking back to the car, Varun’s girlfriend and I had the following conversation (verbatim)…

Girlfriend: That was a fun party

Me: Yeah, totally. The one girl in the dress was really pretty

Girlfriend: Yeah she was. We’re having dinner on Monday, you should come. However, she’s single though.

Me: Uh, "single though”? I think we’ve got a slight disconnect with our intentions.

Shortly after, we headed to party #3, which happened to be about 1 mile from my house. After meeting the birthday boy, who was an unzipped jump suit, I headed inside for a drink. I was introduced to a trio of girls and I immediately realized they weren’t locals since they had American accents. I found out 2 of the 3 were from SoCal and I quickly mentioned I lived in San Francisco. I inquired what they were doing in India and all 3 responded they’re in medical school. A few mins later, I somehow ended up cornering one girl. While I’d like to give myself some credit for this smooth move, I’ll chalk it up to luck.

We start talking and the convo goes as follows:

Me: Did you ever live in India?”
Girl: Yeah, grew up in this small town in A.P.
Me: Oh yeah? Same here, where in A.P.

Girl: You wouldn’t know it, the town is small, a place called Guntur
Me: No way, I was born in Guntur, lived there for 5 years (all true by the way)
Girl: You’re lying, where in Gutur?
Me: (this is where I froze up, despite being in Guntur 2 weeks ago, I forgot our neighborhood so I do the next best thing, I give a landmark where my dad lives, which unfortunately is across town) “Uh, do you know where Vijayatalkes is? I live around there”
Girl: Oh okay, I know where that is but I live on chandramouli nagar
Me: You’re kidding me, that’s where I was born, I’m from there (this is the absolute truth)

Sadly, not knowing the name of the neighborhood you were born greatly diminishes your credibility especially when there are only 3 houses on the street. I tried to redeem myself by naming landmarks but she was not impressed by my knowledge of knowing where the post office and grocery store were.

She gave me a chance but the conversation got uglier (i.e. I made fun of her Telugu accent, which is highly ironic) and the night ended with her saying “wow, you’re really good at digging yourself in a hole, I’m kind of curious how you’ll dig yourself out of this”

To make a long story shot...Different city, no strike that…different country, same story/ending