The green-eyed monster

The green eyed monster

Have you ever been jealous?

My little cousin claims she is all green when it comes to a certain pretty girl in school. The pretty girl – and there is an unmistakable scowl underlining the adjective – features in all the ‘crush lists’ that ‘slam books’ contain. This girlie is incidentally the History teacher’s pet as well, and the apple of the eyes of grand old Maths Sir.

Neighbours in my lane are jealous of the corner skyscraper that claims all the water. The inhabitants call it their ‘official mansion’ but for the rest it is a water-sucking tyrant. The neighbours are also jealous of the houses that boast of more than four water tanks and whose members do not have to lose their sleep over the precious liquid in Delhi’s detestable summer months.

The other day I read about a love-inspired-killing. The usual I-killed-her-because- I-loved-her-but-she-loved-another rigmarole. It seems our killer was jealous. Of the other man in his beloved’s life. Love is a passionate feeling, he claimed during the investigation. Sigh. I keep telling people that they undermine the detrimental consequences of dear Mr. Varma’s movies.

Jealousy is the new urban emotion. It helps earn that higher salary, that bigger apartment, that better-bred doggie. My mind was no less than a melting pot for all things urbane as I stood on the road, waiting for an auto rickshaw. That was however, before I stepped into an err, melting pit. Full of brown, slimy keechad, in all likelihood diluted with a mish mash of other sordid liquids. A trio of rickshaws drove past me, too high and mighty to stop at my feet. The clouds overhead darkened; the pillars around the Metro station started leaking from all around their circumference.

As I stood in the rain, getting wetter by the minute, anticipating an elusive fragrance of onion crispies in the air, another rickshaw swept past. A snobbish female sat inside, immaculately dressed and without a hint of the filthiness of rain. I am sure she had steaming hot pakore waiting for her at home.

I have never been more jealous.

* picture from

33 thoughts on “The green-eyed monster

  1. Pingback: Ten things that 2011 taught me… « Saddi Delhi

  2. How I love to get wet in the rains and soak in the smell of wet earth!! Frankly I wont even care about giving a second glance to an immaculately dressed snobbish girl passing by. Does she even realize the fun she is missing out on? So c’mon go ahead get wet and then treat yourself to a plate ful of pakodas and a hot cuppa tea. Did that make you feel better? 🙂

    • The smell of wet earth eludes me Deeps. 😦 All I get on the street is a mix of smells from God knows what sources. Yes, that lovely wet earth smell does come to me once in a while, say when I am out in my balcony or by the window… 🙂
      But yes, this did make me feel better. I am reminded of the brighter side of rains which the green-eyed monster had hidden from view. Thank you! 😀

  3. I loved the ending .. YEah i know along with pakora’s a hot cup of tea of coffee tooo… Even I am jealous now

    I am also jealous of a lot of things 😦

  4. Yes, now I am jealous of your effortless, refined writing. 😀 With me, it’s a toned down version of longing. I wallow in self pity and then finally manage to convince myself to be happy with what I have. 😀 Wonderful post, Debo, as always.

    • Oh you are just being generous Ajay… 😀 But longing is great in its own definition – it helps us scale newer heights, as my Art teacher in school was fond of saying.
      Glad you enjoyed the post. Made me smile, as always. 🙂

  5. Awwww… poor you….. 😉 Yeah..jealousy is the new urban emotion. I was jealous of my friend because the clarity of his cable connection was much better than mine 😦 😦
    I am sure the snobbish lady would have been jealous of all the car owners whizzing past her. Its an unending chain.

    • Eww. An unclear cable connection sucks. Ask me, I am the one who has to hit and trial a solution every time the set top box errs during grandpa’s very absorbed Balika Vadhu telecast. 😦

      Yeah, it sure is an unending chain. I wonder when those endorsed detachment and satisfaction solutions will actually be applied.

  6. Wonderful post…to talk about jelousy in a fun way.

    For me, seeing people gets scholarship abroad makes me jelous. I have tried 3 times and always failed 😦
    I am tired of trying now, and some conditions won’t allow me to search for an opportunity to see the world for now.

    • I know that feeling Novroz. Don’t give up trying though – what do they say, its the darkest hour before dawn. I hope something works out very soon. 😀

      Glad you liked the post. 🙂

  7. Fabulous ! I can relate to every word you said including the wait for rickshaw in monsoon season and plate of steaming hot samosas…

    and for jealousy…often I turn green when I see people go ga-ga over a dslr food photos and am still struggling to shoot with my P&S..hoping this one will turn out good 😦

    • A plate of steaming hot samosas sounds delicious Sukanya… why am I so hungry lately??

      Aww… I hope you get to do that very soon. Your food photos are delicious and I am sure will only get better with time. 🙂

    • That’s really tragic about your sandals Jyoti. I try my best to avoid all those pretty, strappy sandals in the monsoons.
      Ha ha… that is very understandable a feeling. I am sure you are not alone. 😀

      • yeah, I avoid wearing them on the rain soaked roads too. But yesterday, I ended up being where I had no plans of going when I stepped out of my home. I guess it was destiny. Their end had come, and it forced me to go where there demise was written 😦

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