The other day A and I were discussing the very controversial topic of Divider Skirts. Ahem.
The first time I had mentioned it was to my dad, at age 15. It was one of those "I need to get new uniform because I have grown taller" moments. My dad was very bothered at the rate I was growing tall. He was bothered due to economical reasons, of course. So it was time. He had to take me to store to buy me a new uniform. That meant two sets - one green in color and another a white one. White, because, that's what we wore on Saturdays, you know, for doing all that morning drill stuff? Anyway. This time, however, it had to be a divider skirt, not the normal one. So when he took me to the local garment retailer, I said,"Umm, this time I need a divider skirt".
I heard my dad squeal, not in delight, but in disgust.
He looked straight in my eye and said, "And WTF is a divider skirt?"
How uncouth and un-gentlemanly of him.
"Divider skirt, that which divides like a trouser", I said
"So you mean long bermudas", he said
F***
He chuckled and said to the sales guy over the counter, "Some divider skirt, kathe yaaro..." (which in the local slang means - Some divider skirt, my friend)
The sales guy nodded like he knew what I was talking. He brought two or three of them. Of course, my dad asked him to stop bullshitting and get the cheapest one available but also the most durable. To which, I seemed to have told him that the most durable wasn't necessarily going to be the cheapest anyway, because of obvious macro economics laws. And he very unabashedly asked me to stop bullshitting him.
Now our very serious sales guy added an extra 20 Indian rupees to the most awesome divider skirt he fished out for us. Of course, that didn't please daddy dearest.
Dad: Woh last time, two sau ka liye the.. (The last time I purchased it was 200 Indian rupees)
Sales guy: Woh, do saal pehle ka tha saab. Abhi rate-aa bad gaye (It was 2 years ago, the rates have increased now)
Dad: Zamaane se aarum yahan pe. Tumhaare saab aur hum ek ich school mein padthe the (I have been a long time customer here. Your owner and I went to the same school)
Sales guy: Maaloom saab, vo-ich bees daala main. Nahi tho vo assi ka padtha, divider skirt (I know, that's why I charged only 20 against 80 rupees for a divider skirt)
Dad: Ek beech ki seelaayi ke liye assi lethe? Kya zamaana aa gaya. Apne zamaane mein hum usse bermuda bola karthe the (For a sewing in between, you demand 80 rupees? In our times, we used to call such a thing as a bermuda)
Meanwhile, lots of chuckles were exchanged between men in the store
Me: This is so disgraceful. I won't take anything less than a divider skirt.
Still heard chuckles from men.
Me: But Mrs. Bhaskar Rao will not let me do drill if I don't have a divider skirt
Dad: Does she wear one?
Me: No she wears a saree
Dad: There is no divider saree?
Me: I need a divider skirt. Now.
Dad: Fine.
Looks at the sales guy and says something and finalizes it for the same rate as the original non-divider skirt
The ride back home on my dad's TVS moped was spent listening to him grumbling about the divider skirt. And if you knew my dad even remotely, this went on for some time from grumbling to humor to crass jokes on how divider skirts could actually empower women.
That night ended on a note.
Dad: Tell Mrs. Bhaskar Rao, I am getting her a divider skirt on her birthday.
The first time I had mentioned it was to my dad, at age 15. It was one of those "I need to get new uniform because I have grown taller" moments. My dad was very bothered at the rate I was growing tall. He was bothered due to economical reasons, of course. So it was time. He had to take me to store to buy me a new uniform. That meant two sets - one green in color and another a white one. White, because, that's what we wore on Saturdays, you know, for doing all that morning drill stuff? Anyway. This time, however, it had to be a divider skirt, not the normal one. So when he took me to the local garment retailer, I said,"Umm, this time I need a divider skirt".
I heard my dad squeal, not in delight, but in disgust.
He looked straight in my eye and said, "And WTF is a divider skirt?"
How uncouth and un-gentlemanly of him.
"Divider skirt, that which divides like a trouser", I said
"So you mean long bermudas", he said
F***
He chuckled and said to the sales guy over the counter, "Some divider skirt, kathe yaaro..." (which in the local slang means - Some divider skirt, my friend)
The sales guy nodded like he knew what I was talking. He brought two or three of them. Of course, my dad asked him to stop bullshitting and get the cheapest one available but also the most durable. To which, I seemed to have told him that the most durable wasn't necessarily going to be the cheapest anyway, because of obvious macro economics laws. And he very unabashedly asked me to stop bullshitting him.
Now our very serious sales guy added an extra 20 Indian rupees to the most awesome divider skirt he fished out for us. Of course, that didn't please daddy dearest.
Dad: Woh last time, two sau ka liye the.. (The last time I purchased it was 200 Indian rupees)
Sales guy: Woh, do saal pehle ka tha saab. Abhi rate-aa bad gaye (It was 2 years ago, the rates have increased now)
Dad: Zamaane se aarum yahan pe. Tumhaare saab aur hum ek ich school mein padthe the (I have been a long time customer here. Your owner and I went to the same school)
Sales guy: Maaloom saab, vo-ich bees daala main. Nahi tho vo assi ka padtha, divider skirt (I know, that's why I charged only 20 against 80 rupees for a divider skirt)
Dad: Ek beech ki seelaayi ke liye assi lethe? Kya zamaana aa gaya. Apne zamaane mein hum usse bermuda bola karthe the (For a sewing in between, you demand 80 rupees? In our times, we used to call such a thing as a bermuda)
Meanwhile, lots of chuckles were exchanged between men in the store
Me: This is so disgraceful. I won't take anything less than a divider skirt.
Still heard chuckles from men.
Me: But Mrs. Bhaskar Rao will not let me do drill if I don't have a divider skirt
Dad: Does she wear one?
Me: No she wears a saree
Dad: There is no divider saree?
Me: I need a divider skirt. Now.
Dad: Fine.
Looks at the sales guy and says something and finalizes it for the same rate as the original non-divider skirt
The ride back home on my dad's TVS moped was spent listening to him grumbling about the divider skirt. And if you knew my dad even remotely, this went on for some time from grumbling to humor to crass jokes on how divider skirts could actually empower women.
That night ended on a note.
Dad: Tell Mrs. Bhaskar Rao, I am getting her a divider skirt on her birthday.
3 comments:
haha.. i like the hyderabadi slang ;) n btw... i neva thought abt the idea of a divider saree :O ROFLMAO I hope Mrs. Bhaskar Rao is reading this.. :D
more lol stuff like this needs to be written !
Haha thanks =)
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