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