The greatest love story ever told

What will he wear tonight? He turns his wardrobe upside down. None of his clothes seem good enough for this special occasion. This night like no other… He has to be dressed right for it. Nothing but the best will do. He picks his beige shirt and lays it out on the bed. His movements are carefully calibrated. They have the grandeur of a man dressing for an emperor's coronation or a saint's canonization. He wavers between his blue shirt and the beige one for many agonizing moments. Beige looks good on him. This, he has learnt from first hand experience. Every time he wears beige to office, female colleagues shower him with compliments. He has calculated – based on empirical data – that he always gets an invite (or more) to office parties and weekend getaways on days he dresses in beige. Blue, on the other hand, isn't much good in moving him up the social ladder. It lags behind on the popularity charts.

Blue used to be his favourite colour. It reminds him of the ocean, of summer skies and school holidays he spent with his parents at quaint hill stations and sea side resorts. On the first day of their holiday, he would take off for a swim as soon as they had unpacked their suitcases. Bobbing up and down on the turquoise waters, he would watch fluffy clouds scurrying across bright blue skies. Drowning in the blue he forgot the monotony of school, meals that tasted like sawdust, served three times a day with clockwork precision. He inhaled the cool sea breeze as the waves rocked his body to their rhythm. Blue skies, blue seas, the promise of freedom, eternity...
He picks the beige shirt. His personal likes and dislikes are of no consequence. Its what the world thinks that counts. You have no choice in these matters. You wear what the world approves of. You say what the world wants to hear. You dress in the right clothes, you are in. You say the right words, doors that matter open magically before you. Everything – your wardrobe, your address, the car you drive, the cell phone you flaunt, the airline you fly – is passed through the scanner. One wrong choice, one uncool brand and you are a social pariah the next day. It's a tough game, so you play by the rules. Do whatever it takes to make your way in. And keep your place in the inner circle.
He finds a maroon silk tie to go with the shirt. A dash of colour to pep up the sedate beige. He wears the shirt, feels the freshly starched linen brush against his skin. Tie knotted neatly, he takes a peek at the mirror. He scrutinizes his reflection from every possible angle, tilts his face a bit to let the light accentuate his sharp cheekbones. His shirt is a snug fit, his trousers are ironed to perfection. Satisfied with the dress rehearsal, he heads for the shower. The imported marble floor gleams white, he steps into the shower cabinet and directs a jet of warm water on to his body. The bathroom made a massive dent in his pocket when he was setting up house. The budget the architect drew up for the bathroom could have fed a small country for a decade. The fat grand total at the bottom of the page set off his asthma and kept him hooked to his inhaler for about 15 minutes.
Jabbing the air with his manicured hands, the architect explained why what could be seen as an extravagance was in fact a basic necessity. "If your bathroom doesn't make a style statement," he cleared his throat. "I have to be frank…its all in the loo now. This is the space designed to impress your business associates, your clients. Your social circle's going to drool over it. You are going to love it" It didn't take much persuasion for him to cave in and give the go ahead.
Fresh from the shower, he wears the clothes he has meticulously laid out on the king size bed (Italian, imported, naturally). The house is quiet. The maid and the cook have left, the driver is on leave, down with the flu. He punches the sleek black remote control, sets the temperature for the air conditioner in the bed room. He leaves it on. The room must be cooled just right when he gets back. No point sweating it out. He walks past the giant LCD television screen in the living room, heads towards the front door. Burglar alarm set (state of the art, made in Germany, thank you very much), he steps out of the house. The car 's (Infiniti G 35 Sedan) idling in the garage, but it's just a couple of blocks and he decides he'll walk it for a change."
He finds a maroon silk tie to go with the shirt. A dash of colour to pep up the sedate beige. He wears the shirt, feels the freshly starched linen brush against his skin. Tie knotted neatly, he takes a peek at the mirror. He scrutinizes his reflection from every possible angle, tilts his face a bit to let the light accentuate his sharp cheekbones. His shirt is a snug fit, his trousers are ironed to perfection. Satisfied with the dress rehearsal, he heads for the shower.
The imported marble floor gleams white, he steps into the shower cabinet and directs a jet of warm water on to his body. The bathroom made a massive dent in his pocket when he was setting up house. The budget the architect drew up for the bathroom could have fed a small country for a decade. The fat grand total at the bottom of the page set off his asthma and kept him hooked to his inhaler for about 15 minutes.
Jabbing the air with his manicured hands, the architect explained why what could be seen as extravagance was in fact a basic necessity. "If your bathroom doesn't make a style statement," he cleared his throat. "I have to be frank…its all in the loo now. This is the space designed to impress your business associates, your clients. Your social circle's going to drool over it. You are going to love it"
It didn't take much persuasion for him to cave in and give the go ahead.
Fresh from the shower, he wears the clothes he has meticulously laid out on the king size bed (Italian, imported, naturally). The house is quiet. The maid and the cook have left, the driver is on leave, down with the flu.
He punches the sleek black remote control, sets the temperature for the air conditioner in the bed room. He leaves it on. The room must be cooled just right when he gets back. No point sweating it out. He walks past the giant LCD television screen in the living room, heads towards the front door. Burglar alarm set (state of the art, made in Germany, thank you very much), he steps out of the house. The car 's (Infiniti G 35 Sedan) idling in the garage, but it's just a couple of blocks and he decides he'll walk it for a change.
In the night sky, stars glint like shards of glass. A perfectly rounded full moon glides from behind a cloud. He doesn't waste his time admiring the moon and its extravagant beauty, he needs to get to his destination as fast as he can. Out of breath, his excited heart pounding like a drum, he turns the corner and walks into the neon lit brilliance of fifth avenue.
There is a huge crowd outside the tall glass windows of the store. Everybody is dressed for the occasion. Some have remembered to bring placards which welcome the new phone to the universe in bright, bold letters. He could have brought one too, but wearing his heart on his sleeve was never his style. He merges with the crowd and like devotees awaiting the messiah, they begin their vigil. Tomorrow, when the glass doors of the store slide open at daybreak, the new phone will be theirs. He will become one of the chosen few to own this mind blowing, sophisticated gadget. One wave of his credit card and the sleek phone will rest in the palm of his eager hand. To have and to hold. Till death or defunct batteries do us part. He wills his heart to be still. This night too must pass…
(PS: In June 2007, after months of hype, Apple released the iPhone in 164 retail stores across the United States. The gadget is a cell phone, iPod media player and wireless web device. Crowds reportedly held all night vigils outside stores in anticipation of the day the phone went on sale. Ripples of excitement permeated to all corners of the globe. The internet went berserk with bloggers who couldn't stop raving about the new gadget. They affectionately nicknamed it the 'Jesus phone' in view of the fact that it appears to be a miracle. Eager customers world wide are said to be waiting breathlessly for the company to release the phone in their countries. )