Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The Mad Birthday Party Dash - all for naught!

'I want to come look at the paintings in an hour', said the man on the phone, mentioning Mrs. Mewawala, one of Tara's key buyers as his friend. 'I fly back to the States tonight and I want to pick up a couple of pieces before I leave.'

'Sure', groaned Tara, glancing at her watch. She had promised Ro to take him to a birthday party. She needed to leave now to pick him up for the party. What with Gul away on travel, Tara was manning the gallery alone and Gul would go into an apoplectic fit if she heard that Tara had closed shop on a prospective client for an afternoon with sugar-high rapscallions.

Instead Tara phoned June, begging her to pick up Ro, guiltily explained the new arrangement to her five year old, and waited for the unknown art lover to arrive.

A broken-toothed lad in a sharp suit arrived an hour later, pledging support to the world of art, something he 'casually picked up' on journeys around the world on business. He toured the hall, admiring the works by the young Baroda school artists, and suddenly went into a lengthy quiz on returns on investment and art portfolios.

Tara sighed. ROI on art, a flaky concept at best was a total black box when considering a young unknown artist. Like betting your dosh on a lottery. Chances are pretty slim. The minute the man started speaking ROI and debating merits of Indonesian painters versus Indian painters, Tara knew it was a lost cause.

The clock on the wall suggested the party must have started. Time to cut the idle dialogue short. Tara hurriedly ended the conversation and madly dashed to her car. By the time she reached the party, after endless twists and turns along clogged lanes, the party was ending. Ro was still mad- that child held onto grudges! A promise broken, and for naught!

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Fascinated by Fascinators

'What the heck's a fascinator?', Tara mulled when she first heard the word fascinator.

Fascinating as the word seemed, it could mean anything. Like in Legal-ese, there could be the Fascinator and Fascinatee, opening up an entirely new dimension of human relationships. It could be a nouveau combo of fascist terminator, like a Chechen or Serbian fascinator.

Maddy came to the rescue again, showing Tara an ad e-tailing the eponymous items. Mini tiaras concocted out of scraps of lace, feathers, sequins, and flowers.

'What's this- Princess Di meets grunge look?', Tara queried.

'Oh you American philistine!' Maddy shook her head. 'It's the Princess Di at Ascot look! What you need to wear at the races!'

Tara shook her head in amusement. She hardly found occasions to doll up in her Indian finery in India. But when it came to the Rock Star look, the Grunge look, the Halloween look, and now even a Racing Day look, she suddenly had options!

The inner shopaholic took over. 'That tiger moth one!' she exclaimed. 'It will be perfect for my beige dress. Or perhaps...', she mused,'that amazing purple one.'

Maddy nodded at the image of a cascading confection of tulle, feathers, and Swarovski. 'I adore that purple one. I could buy a dress to match that fascinator.'

'Fascinating', giggled Tara.