Item Number: Puurrrr to meet you

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Puurrrr to meet you

The other day, while waiting at the Vet, the lady sitting next to me was making rude noises. Only after they got really loud, she signaled to a little pink polka dotted rimmed cage and her belled creature purred inside. ‘She’s not been feeling too well’ she sympathetically cooed towards the mammal.

I’m not a cat person, but a soul in distress deserves a minute. Turning right at me, the lady then said ‘Say hello to Madame Bouvier Roffiania’ almost demanding that I pay my respect to her majesty.

I said hello and then introduced her to Rig Vinay Pratap Sigh, my squirrel.

It aint surprising when they say ‘Dogs have owners but Cats….they have staff’

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About Me

Ok, so I’m 5ft 9, about 139 pounds, big greenish brown eyes, long curvy lashes, a curvier body, soft curly hair and an electrifying smile. This impression exists in my head…and now in yours.

It’s not because what I look like makes me uneasy, but this is the number that I’d like to turn up in, someday.

Hence, the ‘Item Number’. A lot many maybe familiar with the term and all that it implies but for the ignorant read on…

I’ve always associated myself with the term ‘Item Number’ which however until recently was a phrase loosely used in Bollywood to describe a filler, a foreplay before the formidable act, a thesaurus for sleazy dance, an excuse for skin show (not always attractive).

All that is now the past. With cinemas growing sensibilities, the stigma attached to the phrase no longer exists and in fact, is now glorified by a list of A grade celebrities gracing the screen with their special performance, adding glam value to an otherwise submissive script.

However in spite of the recent but growing respect, the meaning of the phrase ‘Item Number’ has never changed for me. An item number is an exhibit out of the ordinary plot line, sometimes provocative yet necessary, it sometimes lends itself to the situation but other times it’s forced. It’s long enough to make you smile, but short enough leaving you longing for more. Sometimes special. Sometimes over the top. But never subtle.

I believe, if we search deep inside, we all yearn to be an item number (yes even you!)

It’s the longing to be special. To be provocative. To be able to tease ones boundaries. To be different. To be the one. To make people sit up and notice.

If only for an hour, if only for a minute or even a second.

When you hear the crowds cheer (even if it’s just in your head), respond to every appreciative/envious glare with a radiating smile from within, when you know the stars are shinning in this moment, only to make you look brighter, and you almost throw your hands up to the universe miming a big ‘Thank You’ that’s when you know you’re an Item Number.