Disclaimer: all those who're expecting this piece to somehow relate Bombay with Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, please stop reading right now. You'll be irritated to the hilt by the time you reach end of line1 para1.

I saw a sardar today! I saw a sardar today!


Anyone acquainted long enough with my sophisticated tastes in men [that was NOT a pun, ok?] would not gasp at the prospect of me ogling at any male member of the clan. Especially the tall-slim-collar bone showing & veined armed versions. Actually only those. Oh! God bless them.

For a fat chunk of time that I stopped frequenting the King's Circle flat, it was the NSP of these Aryan descendants that I missed considerably [yes, yes, apart from you two Nishants]. The "Sindhi Colony" at Sion-Koliwada is one of the original resettlements of Sikh refugees from Partition, Sumit had told me [Sumit being a Surd himself - though a more hybrid one from Mulund].

In the hottest months of sultry-humid-bitchy Bombay, I've walked all the way from King's Circle station to Pushpak just to catch a glimpse of the eye-candy. Earlier, the day's exhaustion would make me beg NiNa to gimme a ride home. But ever since the first sighting, this ornithology enthusiast became more enthusiastic! *wink wink* I would walk even when I was chumming! Really but, isn't to see something nice [ok not exactly "thing" in this case], when you're feeling like shit, therapeutic?

I've never spotted such strapping young Surd lads even on my trips to Delhi. Perhaps cuz I'd found a part-Surd of my own. Who knew... This bunch was groomed. Neel once jibed me, "how" do I see anything behind that thick "outgrowth"? These chaps were so clean and always well turned out. Such beautiful features: sharp eyes, the quintessential "aquiline" nose, full jaws... even their religious markers are appealing - the kirpaan, the tightly twisted turban [ha ha, just produced a tongue twister! – I know I know – PU shut up]…

That apart, for a city whose population threatens to spill out into its creeks, turbaned Sikhs are hard to come by. A community held in high regard for its physical strength and business acumen and ridiculed at for their imagined inanities, has been unduly discriminated against on the basis of their appearance. Like a lot of Jews who are abandoning their peyots to fit in with natives in foreign societies, more and more Sikhs are abandoning their turbans and beards to reveal their chiseled faces. A people we’ve often dismissed upon as the hairy funny men might just steal your chance of making it to the college sweetheart’s notice. With looks to kill for, and an acute sense of protecting their women, the laughed-at will emerge hero. A tall, broad chested, suited Surd at work or clad in casuals at a pub or disc is such an answered prayer… sigh…

No comments: