The Yarn Factory

Embarrassments happen to me on an hourly basis. When embarrassments happen in the company of strangers, in most cases, you could attempt to save face by putting on a nonchalant expression as if to say “This is no big embarrassment, I infact intended it this way”, whereas there is no scope for such maneuvering when embarrassments happen in the company of friends and family. Could embarrassing situations turn out to be potentially dangerous? They could, as I found out on a family outing.

My sister visits us from the US every year, and when she does, we hit our familiar sightseeing circuits in Bangalore like Lalbagh, Bannerghatta National Park, etc. Nowadays, we choose destinations based on my niece’s age and choices. This year’s demand was to see Bannerghatta, so that was where we went to. There is a general perception in my family that I am very careless (not entirely uncalled for, in my opinion, but which I nevertheless, for ego-sake, fight tooth and nail). Simple incidents like dropping a pencil are enough to trigger this off (“You are very kher-less”, Dad thunders. “Tch-tch”, mother goes. Sis giggles in a way that only gals can, ripping off the shreds of self-respect that I am clinging to). This trip was a spectacular demonstration of my carelessness, and provided much mirth to everybody involved, except me and the other party involved.

Strolling around the park, the other men-folk had their hands full carrying essential items like bags of chips, biscuits, “etc”. The girl-folk ran off to point out the animals and giggle some more. The women-folk were engrossed in issues of their own. So the niece was left in my care, and we strolled around contentedly, hand-in-hand. I am usually a quiet person, and so is the three-year-old left in my care. So we strolled around the animal cages, just watching the animals and birds, not talking much. She would sometimes run ahead for a closer look at the animals, then come back, take my hand, and off we would go. Over time, unbeknownst to any of us, my niece and I were separated from the group.

A little while later, I grew conscious of many people watching us as we strolled through the exhibits. The holiday crowd was most families around Bangalore. Women briefly glanced at us before averting their eyes, while the men looked at us with a snigger. I sniggered back, wondering what was wrong in walking a three-year-old kid around animal cages. The sniggers and averted eyes followed us around. At long last, I saw our group at a distance, and hurried us along towards the family.

They were grinning too. Hey wait a minute, who was that holding on to my sister’s hand? Was that my niece?? I turned to my left side to see who was holding on to my hand, and horror of horrors, it was a girl of seventeen-eighteenish!! It all came flooding to me in a minute – I had taken some random person’s hand and strolled on, without realizing that I had separated from my niece. The kid had found her way back to her mom, while I cavorted through the zoo with a stranger on my arm. What’s worse, the girl realized what had happened only when I jerked my arm away in shock and confusion. Instant reaction – she started weeping. It fell to my mom and sis to comfort her, while dad had to calm down her livid father who had arrived at the scene.

And I stood there red-faced, unable to say a word. And just as things were calming down, I heard a lady whisper to her friend “The boy and girl are lovers. They came to the park to roam in each others’ company, and now their parents have caught them together”. Oh no, the ignominy. I am careless.