I am a twenties-something techie and have been wearing down the computers at India's Silicon Valley, Bangalore, for the last two years. Entering the corporate world was so much fun and so unexpectedly different. The neckties I had bought still hang in my cupboard, and the suits are getting positively weary of hanging around and not getting worn. At work the "Sirs" and "Ma'ams" that punctuated my sentences in college are positively abhorred. And it's sacrilege to insist on using them!

Anyway, living in such a laidback atmosphere had definitely erased from my mind all the norms of dating and now it looked as if I was going to get a refresher course, and a pretty hot one at that.

I was meeting Priya for lunch. Priya was an ex-colleague and I guess she had worked in the same 'laidback' atmosphere, but what I hadn't reckoned with was what M&B could do to a woman's mind.

But why blame M&B? I was late and definitely at fault. I was late by exactly two minutes and deserved to be incinerated by her flashing eyes.

"Where have you been, John?" she snapped. "I have been standing here for five minutes and I have already turned down two passes and nearly slapped one guy!"

I gulped. Getting slapped by Priya must definitely be an exciting prospect for some guys, if their intention in life is making physical contact with her. But there are better, more agreeable ways to make that dream come true.

I SWEPT these thoughts from my mind and concentrated on those fiery eyes. I put on my best Tom Cruise smile and muttered, "Bangalore traffic!" And then with a murmur, "But you are looking lovely, simply divine!"

I don't know if the smile worked or the words, or if she was simply tired of standing around, but she swept past me like the Amazon and I caught a whiff of De Givenchy. This girl really knew her perfumes!

"So, where are we going?" she asked, in a considerably placated tone. The chill in her voice was definitely less and I began to hope that I might even survive the afternoon. I caught up with her and mentioned a restaurant that had just opened. She brightened. "Good," she said. "Where is it?"

"Just nearby," I motioned with my hand. "Just around the corner."

We started walking. The sun was hot and looking at her butter-cream complexion, I began to wonder if she was going to melt. The corner came and went and we continued walking. After five minutes of this, Priya was definitely acquiring a healthy tan and I was beginning to feel distinctly uneasy as I saw a drop of perspiration trickle down her lovely neck.

"Where is it, John?" she asked.

"It was definitely around the corner," I said. "At least that's what the newspaper said."

She looked at me and I could swear those almond eyes were becoming chilly again. "You mean you didn't check up? How could you, John? They print anything these days!"

And then, as they say, saved by the bell! I was saved by the gong. A large brass gong hung over a door and a brightly painted sign proclaimed that it was indeed The Gong. The doorman beamed. Priya ignored him, I smiled and we both walked in.

THE CAPTAIN hurried over and put up his hand. "Just a moment, Siree," he wheezed. "We are full, half-an-hour waiting, Siree."

I looked at him, then at Priya, who was regarding the ceiling rather stonily.

I turned on the captain in desperation. "Come on, my man, my friend is not feeling too well," I whispered. "We need a place to sit."

"Of course, Siree, half-an..."

Before he could complete his sentence, I shook hands with him and expertly palmed him a C note. Five minutes later, we were both seated in one of the dark corners of the brightly lit room. The bad part, however, was that the AC vent was focussed on Priya's face and if I did not act fast enough, she would soon be frozen.

I acted fast. I swapped places with her.

Things were better now. I was getting frozen, but we were both seated.

After much squinting at the menu in the dim light with Metallica murmuring Nothing Else Matters, I left the ordering to Priya.

After some time the waiter sidled up and Priya ordered something. He looked at me. "I'll have the same," I said and away he went.

I began studying Priya's eyes. There was something intoxicating about them. She looked up and caught me at it. I smiled. She smiled back. A million bulbs flickered and our corner lit up for a brief moment.

"What do you think you are doing, John?" she said.

"I am trying not to drown," I muttered.

"Smooth talker," she ventured.

I smiled again and the conversation drifted into safer areas.

AFTER about half-an-hour the waiter swung by and deposited two plates of greenish stuff on the table. I was appalled. "What's this?" I screeched. He beamed and announced with great pomp: "Caster-riole de malise."

"Sounds like a disease," I remarked unkindly. He beamed and marched off. I cast a glance towards Priya who was daintily moving the 'malaise' into her mouth. I shuddered and followed suit.

Twenty minutes went by, twenty minutes in which I continued to grow hungrier by the minute. I cast surreptitious glances at Priya, who seemed to be making good progress. "Hmm, the food is good here, John," she said. I heard my stomach rumble and agreed with her.

I had the stomach to disagree, but not the heart. Metallica had started on Unforgiven and I was feeling rather mutinous.

We finished, I paid the tab and tipped the waiter heavily. Priya seemed to like the place and I had to maintain good PR with the staff if I was to be assured of a table again. It didn't matter if I starved every time we ate here.

We walked out into the hot sunshine. Priya had thawed sufficiently not to notice it. We walked back on M G Road and entered Plaza. Captain Corelli's Mandolin was being screened and I fervently hoped that Nicolas Cage knew his music.

The ticket attendant smiled. Come to think of it, a lot of people smiled at me that day. Perhaps it had something to do with the 5'7" beauty by my side, but I did not mind.

I smiled back and collected the stubs. The usher led us to our seats. The screen flickered and some scenes began to move. I sighed and settled down in my seat. The scent of jasmine was in the air and I strongly suspected that it had something to do with Priya's hair. I moved further down into the chair and made myself more comfortable, and before the shells and bombs began to rain I was asleep and dreaming of the romance of the Mediterranean.

PRIYA was shaking me by the shoulder. I returned to Bangalore, blinked, and realised that people were moving out of the theatre. The movie was over. I staggered to my feet and glanced at Priya, expecting her to be upset, but she was strangely calm.

We walked out into the dusky evening, down M G Road among the milling crowd, and headed towards where Priya had parked her Scooty.

As we approached it, I was thinking how to apologise for having fallen asleep on a date when her words pre-empted me. "So John, that was lovely," she said.

"What was ... lovely?" I asked, preparing myself for a verbal diatribe.

"The movie."

"Well, Priya," I said with a deep breath, "I am sorry I did not see it, I fell asleep."

"I know," she said. "That's why we have to see it again, next week."

Her eyes were dancing as she smiled and started the Scooty. With a backward glance, she sped off and I was left mulling over the evening in the midst of the crowd.

It had been a fascinating evening, no doubt. I had been with one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen and ... I had fallen asleep. But then she had mentioned something about next week and so perhaps I had done something right.

I started walking back to my bike. At the back of my mind there was something about the norms of dating...

John Page finally did get to see Captain Corelli's Mandolin.

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