I just did what I thought of doing two days back. I was sitting with Hugzy at Mithas, eating the ever famous grilled cheese sandwich, and we, for some odd reason, were discussing “love”. Love as in Love love. We ended up talking about the ever gallant Knight In Shining Armour (God save the poor bloke!) and the respective Damsel In Distress.

“You know the Perfect Guy, Anya, is different for every person,” Hugzy said with a aura of profound wisdom.
I nodded, munching chips.
“Like you obviously think that your Perfect Guy would be someone who’s,” Hugzy told me, “a gentleman.”
“Mr. Darcy,” I summed it up in two words.
“Yes, but Anya,” Hugzy, not quite liking Mr. Darcy as much as I do (being an ardent admirer of Rhett Butler), said, “but you just say that because you have not met any like Mr. Darcy. What if you do find the gentleman and he is just the way Darcy is and you don’t like him.”
“He’ll be exactly like Darcy?” I asked. “Even in looks?”
Hugzy nodded.
“Then I will like him,” I prophesised.
Hugzy looked at me the way she always does when I go about with my stubbornness.
“But you know what?” Hugzy said, swallowing a mouthful of sandwich, “The guy would jut be an ordinary guy.”
“NO!” I cried. How can Mr. Darcy be ordinary??
“Arrey, listen na,” Hugzy said, “he would. Not to you. But to others he would.”
Hugzy really does start on in Russian at times.
“Like you might be someone’s Perfect Girl,” she said.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, the ever optimistic one.
“You are intelligent,” Hugzy enlightened me.
“No, I’m not,” said The Modest Anya.
“Yes you are,” Hugzy said. “Shut up. Yes, so you’re intelligent--”
“And even if I am,” I interrupted her, “that so doesn’t help, my friend. Men like Bimbos. They are allergic to intelligent women.”
“I said there could be one exception na!” Hugzy cried. “That’s what I’m saying. Listen. There could be this one guy who likes intelligent girls, who are, you know, bookish--”
“I’m not a nerd.”
“No,” Hugzy waved her hand, not even listening to me. “Bookish, and you know, witty and great sense of humour--”
“Do you have a crush on me?” I joked.
“Some men like that. But that’s my point. You wouldn’t know. Cause you don’t see yourself as perfect. But you could be someone else’s perfect.”

So today, I did what I thought I would do to my story when Hugzy was playing the Wise One. My character, Nicole has been in love with the Delhi based Lawyer, Malcolm for a while. And he is her perfect. The gentleman. But now she’s going through a rough time. She has started seeing cracks in her highly Romanticised love for Malcolm.

The Perfect Guy she had in mind turns out to be a very nice guy. Way beyond her league. But not her Perfect Guy. He has always been Divine in her eyes, with no flaws. The Divine. But does she go out with someone that Divine?

Nicole, the poor girl, realizes that she’s happier with a little less perfect guy. The one with flaws. I said flaws, not major defects!! She is a very confused 27 year old tonight. Help her.