Kishore Singh: The Priceless Girlfriends' Club

Being the only hack in the neighbourhood, I was called to draft the manifesto of the “Rs 500-crore Girlfriends’ Club” (5 CGC, in short) as an honourary exceptional member — the membership otherwise restricted to married women who, I was asked by Sarla to state as point number one, “must always look glamorous”.

The preliminary meeting of 5 CGC had just been called to order, but Sarla’s suggestion almost aborted it. Madhvi, who’d come in her designer tracks, immediately summoned her personal maid to fetch her a dress and matching heels. Padmini insisted on getting her hair done before the meeting could proceed further, and Shanta contended that club meetings should have stylists and pedicurists in attendance. When I suggested the need for an agenda, Sarla pointed out that as an honourary exceptional member, while I could see, I should not speak, and especially not when the founding members were in discussion.

As the meeting progressed, I was told to make note that 5 CGC was not to be a mere kitty club “like Chanda’s”, which seemed to devote considerable attention to the goings-on in the lives of mothers- and daughters-in-law, but would address serious issues. Such as? A period of silence, followed by Padmini’s proposition, quickly seconded by Madhvi, that a photograph of Sunanda Pushkar be brought to each meeting by the honourary exceptional member as the inspiration that led to the club being mooted in the first place.

Shanta said members may want to emulate Pushkar as the driving force behind 5 CGC. “You mean, for being a feisty, independent woman?” I asked. “Feisty-sheisty,” Sarla glowered, “I want to invite her hairstylist to demonstrate how she gets her curls.” Padma said she knew someone who could get them a reference to the source for her sarees. “Don’t forget her blouse tailor,” sighed my wife, who is forever tracking blouse tailors across the NCR — with mixed results. “What we need are diamonds,” proposed Sarla, a cacophony of voices directing me to make note of the need for an increase in their allowances for the expense entailed in cloning their inspiration’s jewellery.

A motion was proposed that 5 CGC’s next meeting be an “annual” one. “Er, but…” I began to voice my objection, when Shanta, who seconded it, said it would help to launch the club on a national scale, for which, of course, a chief guest would be required. “Sunanda Pushkar?” I hazarded. “You silly man,” jibed Madhvi, “what would we want her for? A better idea would be to get Narendra Modi to preside.” “But he might insult you,” I suggested. “All the better,” tittered Sarla, “though I hope he won’t call us Rs 1,000-crore girlfriends, because then we’d have to change the name of the club.”

“If Modi says no,” Padma continued, “we could always ask Shashi Tharoor to be chief guest.” “His UN experience makes him a good choice,” I concurred. “His defence of his wife is what makes him the perfect choice,” snapped Chanda, “he could recite poetry to us.” “He could tell our husbands we are priceless,” agreed Madhvi.

It is now my duty as honourary exalted member to register the “Priceless Girlfriends’ Club”, formerly known as the “Rs 500-crore Girlfriends’ Club” which, when I informed their husbands of the development, was met with the lament that they stood to lose a lot of money on their “priceless wives”, thanks to the shenanigans of politicians in high office.