A wicker basket shaped like an elephant…and other stories

So everyday that we go through Babulnath to get to work, there’s this wicker furniture shop that I see, which I would usually find repulsive. Except for, a wicker basket shaped like an elephant that sits outside woefully looking for a home. Ever since I saw this little basket creature I wanted to go over to this horrendous wicker shop and adopt him. Today I made the journey again, only this morning, he looked more sad than usual, and I decided that after work I would go and get him and bring him to a loving home. That was my plan.

I got to work bright and early and got on with some editing that Ekta needed help with. It was a piece on how to look five years younger. It was a pretty standard job that took me less than an hour and the day was starting off well. Nandini came to the office and gave me my next task. She forwarded me all the fan mail for the magazine and asked me to select, then edit the letters that we had been sent. And I needed to. The writing and wording of some of the worse letters made them almost impossible to read. It took three of us; me, Ekta and Meghna to decipher some of the text. The best letter, (and highlight of I think nearly everyone in the office’s day) was one from someone who could not string together a sentence without a metaphor or a simile. They began by telling us how they thought of our magazine as their deodorant. We’re not sure whether they meant that every morning they want to wipe our magazine on their pits, or that our magazine is just as essential, as a beauty product such as deodrant. This did not stop us finding it hilarious. They went on to describe how our magazine was…wait for it, farm fresh. Farm fresh? We laughed so hard we almost cried.

The day went by in a blur of business and we cut ourselves a break when we went for lunch. My favourite dinner was there today, whole boiled eggs floating in curry. I am obviously being sarcastic. That is my least favourite of all the things they serve, which I’m sure my Dad understands, being the world’s biggest hater of most eggy produce. I settled for dal, chapatti and rice. The safe option. During dinner me and the girls had a chat about all the stuff that we want to fit in before I go. It seems so sad that this is my last week, I really wish it wasn’t. Even the editor said she wished I wasn’t leaving, which is what you want to hear when you’ve been working for someone as hard as I have.

After lunch I got assigned an awesome yet stressy task which is ongoing. Some of the girls are doing a product shoot for Zara, Diesel and Vero Moda tomorrow, as they are all stores which have just come to India. I’m writing up a three page article about the opening of these new stores, and had to contact the PR agencies which handle all the catalogue photos and press releases. Thankfully the ladies I emailed were really lovely and are in the process of sending me the high resolution images that I requested from them, and the answers to some questions about their respective brands. I got to look first hand at some new Diesel products that came into the office and choose which ones I wanted to feature which was so cool! Once the shoot is over tomorrow, the girls will also have loads of images for me so I can choose which pieces from which stores I want to write about. So exciting, but also, so much of it is my responsibility it’s a little scary. Ah well, more bylines for me!

At around five we went up to the cafeteria for chai and kachori. Kachori is like a veggie burger with pastry round it that has been deep fried with loads of spices on top. You eat it with your hands and dip it in imly chutney, which is like a spicier, tangier version of mango chutney. I need imly chutney and kachori when I get back to the U.K or I’ll have withdrawal symptoms. I also need to find an Indian that does good vada and sambar. I’ll be on the lookout in Fal.

I finished work just before seven and made my way in a cab to the elephant basket shop. There was the sad little elephant that I have come to love, and the greedy fatso in the shop wanted over Rs 3000 for him! No way I’m paying 3000 bucks! I’m going to take bartering master Indrakshi with me after work tomorrow. That elephant will be mine. Mine I tell you!

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