I was made aware of two facts of life over this weekend.
Fact 1: If there is a poem that makes no sense, lie like hell to girls.
Fact 2: You can be ice cool when your car is being "stolen". Again, a girl was involved.
Dear Diary, I went to this show at York university over the weekend. It had suddenly become the hottest ticket in town, with every young Bengali in T-dot (and even from remote outposts such as Hamilton) rumored to be attending. In that show, there was this cultural part - a poem/dance/song combo.
The 'story' of the poem was this. Three girls are singing near the river. Apparently in Bangladesh it's customary to sing and dance when you are a female, bathing in public near a river. Three princes appear to see them, and propose on the spot. Each prince promise their respective beauties lots of gold, silver, land, slaves and palaces. Each of the village belles refuse their advances because the princes only love their beauty, which is fleeting.
Guess which half of the audience was in awe of the piece. Not just awe, gushing admiration for the moral of the story (which is?). "Finding lessons" in the skit about the "metaphors of life".
And now guess which half of the audience was bored to death during this piece.
At this point, if a girl asks you what did you think of the poem/dance, what should you say?
Wrong answer: WTF was all that?
Fact 1.1. If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, then the way to a girl's heart is plain out lying.
Right answer: "You have to feeeeel the anguish of the girl's last song" or "how the poem above underlined the social contrast between the poet's perspective of royal lust and regal love".
As for the rest of the York show, man, they have some serious talent on that campus. UofT still rocks though (I have to say that, I am biased towards the institution that tortured me for four years). But York, good, keep it up. It's good to see kids do well nowadays.
Now for Fact 2. When my car got "stolen". And I was Mr Ice-cool.
Dear Diary, I am at this friend's place in the village. Otherwise known as Brampton. It's a guy's night out. I had taken my laptop there to copy some of his DVDs. I was surfing the net. Suddenly, a girl friend came online. Dear diary, please note the space between "girl" and "friend". We were just chatting casually about movies, of all topics.
Suddenly, one of my 'friends' came rushing into the room.
"Mezba, your car's missing! It's not on the driveway!"
And in his hand was the club I use to lock my steering wheel with.
Oh great! Since this friend was usually the stoic serious type, I started to inwardly panic. Second, my keys were in my pocket. So they could not be playing a prank.
But, to the outside world, I was cool. All I said was, "OK, gimme a few minutes."
After all, I was chatting to a lady. And you just don't disappear like that. So I continued to chat. She talked some more, and then I told her I will be right back. A full five minutes later, I turned to my incredulous friends.
"Holy f*** it didn't work." One of them said. The others started to bicker as to whose bad acting gave it away. And the mystery of the club? Well it wasn't mine to begin with, just another one in the house with the same colour.
All in all, a great weekend.
Here are a few pictures of the York show.
Students form the Bangladesh flag.
Heaven and Hell co-host the show.
Singers dance to a poem that is sung.
Tags: York BSF Ekka Dokka