Fast forward a couple of years and I moved to Gurgaon after being handpicked from the mass recruitment conducted at my college by an MNC. I stayed in Sushant Lok and met Rubal. Rubal was the owner of a small brassiere shop in the dilapidated shopping complex. Coincidentally, the shop had no changing rooms, could fit a maximum of 3 people but despite of that, I WAS NOT BUYING MY BRAS OFF THE ROAD!
On another tangent, seriously, what is wrong with you people? Can’t you build a “Sulabh changing room?”
Coming back from the moon and into this writeup, Rubal(who coincidentally shares the same name as my younger brother. Coincidence?) was a free spirited jolly golly woman who “finally” knew the product that she was selling. Her personalized advises were enlightening, funny and actually useful. She defied all the self-schooling that I had done in the bra department and taught me life lessons that I will carry to my grave. She talked about elasticity , cup size, durability and longevity like a scientist and I could ask her whatever I wanted without being judged. Well, to come to think of it, I could have asked Bhaiyaji from “She”also anything, but I feared my mommy dearest. Not because she was scary. It was because she had the capability to recite the anecdote to “Pallavi didi ki mummy”[Pallavi’s mom] who is our neighbor’s neighbor, and I had no patience to deal with that.
Rubal(again the shopkeeper and not my brother because it would be weird otherwise) taught me “the stuff” and I went an extra mile and categorized the whole institution of bras into 4 major categories. Boys and girls, watch and learn: