IT HAPPENED ONE FUNNY NIGHT

Is there anything more splendid than winning something without working hard, by just being yourself, by speaking your heart out and making everyone laugh. That is what happened in one of the beautiful September nights of 2007, the year I came to Delhi. I got into North East Student’s House for Women under Delhi University. It was not a hostel for me, it can be rightly called as 5 ***** Hotel. A single room of my own, a cute balcony, gym, study room, internet-surfing room, standard videshi bathroom, awesome mess hall, a television room which was more like a theatre.

As a fresher in the House, I was eager to make friends, but things did not go beyond ‘Hello’. Then came the Fresher’s Night of the House, and as an Ice breaker, there was this ‘Miss. Fresher Contest’, followed by a special dinner. I was under the impression that no participation in the contest meant no dinner, and for a foodie person like me, special dinners are something I could die for. The theme of the Night was ‘Super Model’, Heaven is the witness, I did not have anything that could make me looked like a super model. The night before the event, I borrowed fashionable earrings from a friend (who was my former college-mate), the shoes belonged to my mom which she insisted me to packed while coming from Nagaland, the black shirt and the pink top was stolen from my sister’s closet (till date she does not know it), and that pink fur like thing was given to me by my Punjabi Madam. In short, apart from my inners everything was borrowed or given or stolen. As the room became wide with beautiful girls, I wondered how much fun the interactive session would be. The laughter and the music roared, there was so much to be expected. I had no clue how many rounds the contest could have, in the first round I was asked who my favourite model was, and to it, I replied, “Naomi Campbell.” After all, she was the only model whose name I knew. Had they asked me why? Then I could have been in ‘I don’t know what to say’ situation. So, before they could ask me, I questioned, “Can I show you how she walks?” When they were fine with it, I showed the perfect caricature of how a model walks. They were more than pleased, they were amused. I was sure that I had entertained them enough, and that was why they selected me for the second round. The question of the second round was very cliché, “How do you define a woman of substance?” But I have decided that the answer should be something which was out of the box, I replied, “A woman of substance should be unpredictable like the weather of India(laughter  followed),  a woman of substance should pray, work, and play hard. A woman of substance should know how to tame her man ( in a sweet and ethical way though), a woman of substance should kiss herself in the mirror when she feels ugly. A woman of substance (I took a pause, SRK’S Chak De was a huge hit that year, so I added) should know  how to play the hockey of her life.” There was claps and laughter (I do not know which succeeded the other). The other contestants were equally good so there was a need for last round, I found myself standing in front of two very beautiful ladies, the final question was, “How do you identify yourself in a city like Delhi?” That was easy; I knew the answer before it was laid down, “Like every individual I am unique, this uniqueness gets more manifested when I am in a city like Delhi. This is my identity, this is my strength.” I heard the claps; I saw the appreciation in the eyes of everyone present in the hall. I won the title; I made friends and filled myself with so much of chicken that I had a tolerable loose motion the following day.

The succeeding year, it was Merenla Imsong, she is now extremely popular, who won this title and the crown.