Age Old Problem

“Music and Lyrics”… “Provoked”… “A Good German”… “Metro”… These are all movies that I had trouble seeing. Why? Because I am all of SIX months less than 18 years old.

Most NORMAL people get away with it by throwing a very believable temper tantrum. I showed an ID card with my year of birth on it… Yes I know – the sheer stupidity of it all sickens me. But I can’t lie to save my life! So I showed them. Luckily there was a very sweet chubby old guy security guard there who I flashed a little smile at. He let me in with a roll of his eyes that said Oh all right!! Yay!

My friend of course couldn’t try that immediately after me… So…
“Oh God… Not this again! You cannot seriously expect me to believe that I don’t look over 18 to you. Come on don’t waste my time – my movie is about to start!” When my friend tried that, the security lady looked most flustered and did the whole I’m-so-sorry-ma’am-of-course-of-course routine and let her in.

Huh. That was SO cool…! So I tried it the next time! “Don’t I LOOK 18 to you?! Oh please don’t start this now… I don’t have the time for this. Just let me through!” The security lady looked completely unflustered. Even with her thick accent, she had me! “Wokay I believe ma… But I need see ID first.”

Wha…?? What did I do differently? Do I just give off an immature VIBE?! I have a feeling it isn’t going to be very different in six months! Maybe it will be once I’m wearing thick glasses, have grey hair, and am walking in with my grand-daughter.

Smile Ok Please!

Visiting the Mehrangarh Fort while holiday-ing in Jodhpur was the best part of our 6 day holiday there. The building began in 1459, making it one of the oldest buildings I have ever visited. Built on a hill, we could see a gorgeous view of Jodhpur city from the hill. The walls of every house in the old city are painted in a bright shade of blue. While this is done for the most unromantic reason thinkable – to keep away mosquitoes – I couldn’t help but notice what a truly romantic view it was.

But more than the static piece of history that was the building, it was the people of Jodhpur that stood out in our memories. The people who spend their days within the high walls of the fort seem to live in a separate realm all together. I remember three particularly clearly.

One man sat in a depression in the wall, at the far end of a large square in the fort. He wore a large orange turban, and sat on a frayed and graying matress, which I suspected was once white in colour. He sat with one leg crossed and the other propped up supporting an extended arm. I found myself thinking that this man's great-great-grandfather probably didn't look very different from the way he looked just then.

At the door of one of the rooms we were about to enter, a man sat perched cross-legged on a high stool. He looked so picturesque – in his maroon turban, graying dhoti and long upturned moustache and large beard to match. Perhaps it was the sun, but he watched us unsmiling, his eyebrows drawn close together. Oblivious to it all, my dad ushered my brother towards him. “Let’s take a photograph!” he said. By hindsight, my wariness was uncalled for, but it was difficult to be completely comfortable with a man of his appearance putting an arm around my 12 year old brother. My brother hesitated. The man got off his stool and walked towards him. He flashed a beatific smile and said “aaja bachha, darta kyun hai??” Surprised and amused, we took the shot, and it made a lovely picture!

Just as we were leaving, my mother turned to him and said “Wah…aapki muchch tho bahut hi badhiya hai!” He went back to his stool twirling the ends of his moustache, and we went on our way – changed expressions on all our faces. He showed off his pearly whites as we walked away; I think we made his day as much as he made ours!

As we left the fort, just at the final turn of the path, a man sat singing with a large drum. He wore clothes similar to the first two men we saw, but looked considerably younger. He sang with his eyes closed, and only the drum as accompaniment. We asked him to sing for us again, and he was thrilled that someone was interested! It bothered me that so few bothered to stop to listen to him. No mikes, no added reverb, no studio fine tuning. He didn’t need any of it! His voice was so rustic – the kind that holds up a culture. With memories to last a lifetime, I left the Mehrangarh Fort with tears in my eyes.