This happened about 25 years ago, on one rainy evening, which pretty much changed my life. I was over at Amit's for a party. I have never been a party person. I dislike crowds and detest loud music. But I was still there, to greet Amit on his 25th birthday. I had had my Chevas Regal, a peg too many and I was out in the balcony to get that "fresh air" in. Parties can be claustrophobic, or that was the explanation I gave to get some space. I just wanted to be away from the crowd, especially with that extra drink.
Its funny how life changing events occur in one’s life mostly when one has had that extra drink. I was looking at the street below, the to and fro motion of cars' lights in the rain which was kinda psychedelic in itself and I was lost in transportation I think when I heard a female voice, that sweet voice that I have never been able to forget till date. I fell in love with Deepti at that instant and it has never changed ever since.
My life changed after that evening. Not just mine, ours. Deepti and me have been together ever since. We had decided to get married, but we faced the usual issues. First it was my mom, who thought living together before marriage was outrageous. Once she was convinced that there was a wedding on the cards, it was her Chennai bred tam bram dad who disapproved me because of my caste. But as time passed we stopped caring for others and slowly everyone started caring less. That’s the best thing about time. As it passes, people get busy and start caring less. And we never really got married per say, but as romantics would put it, we were married in our hearts.
Life has been wonderful ever since that rainy evening tho. Every day, I come back from work to find Deepti waiting for me with a bright smile on her face, irrespective of the time I walk in. I give her a gist of whatever happened in office and she has the patience to listen to anything I have to tell her. It doesn’t matter if I am talking about office politics and how that ridiculous Mr.Khanna became the Vice President ahead of me, or if I talk about the reason for profit in our company is directly dependent on the labor laws in the US.
Sundays are the best. I make it a point to wake up early on Sundays to cook breakfast. Once I am done, I bring out the morning news paper, and over a cup of coffee, I read it out to Deepti, carefully avoiding the crime and accident sections. She never reads the news paper herself, and I suspect that she does that because she hates hearing about accidents or crime. When my mom visits, she says I need to have a more social life, but I am mighty content with the life I have with Deepti.
Deepti died in a car crash about a year after I met her. All that is left of her is that beautiful photograph on the wall, always smiling. But then, I don’t miss her, because she is always there for me. Always there, to greet me with a smile everyday I come back home.
Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts
Friday, November 14, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Sunaina
Good morning sweetheart" Sunaina said "Wake up, its 8".
"ummm... 5 more mins please... am very sleepy" grumbled Aditya. It had been 5 years since they had been married. But for the first time, he was lying about it. Lying about being sleepy that is; because he had hardly slept all night. He just could not close his eyes. Every time he had tried closing his eyes, events of the previous evening flashed before him. It was breath taking. She was.
The bright sun light came in and pierced his eyes as Sunaina undid the curtains.
"Aarghh!! My head hurts. Let the curtains be su" he cried.
"Its time you woke up Adi. Its 8 and you have to get to work. And why wont the head hurt if you drink so much" she said without heeding to his request, opened the windows and headed into the shower.
Aditya opened his eyes, rubbed them red and walked towards the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. It was a bad hangover. As he looked back on yesterday, he felt guilty. It was a very usual thing for him to feel guilty after a bad drunk night. He had everytime, for over 8 years now, said the same thing the day after he got drunk. Promise the world he would never drink again. But today was different. He felt guilt alright. Of what had happened yesterday. Well, not quite what happened, because nothing had. Nothing quiet yet.
"Adi, could you please hand me my towel" cried Sunaina from the shower.
Ideally he would have retorted or may be even gone into the shower to embarrass her, but today he didn’t. He left his coffee cup on the TV, went to the bed room, handed her her towel, saw the pack of cigarettes next to his laptop. He picked it up, picked up the news paper and his coffee and headed to the balcony. As he sat down on the old cane chair in the balcony and lit his smoke, he thought back about what had happened yesterday. The memory was vague... but he felt guilty, even with the vague memory. “I should not have had that last drink” he heard himself saying. He should not have gone outside to attend Sunaina's call. Had he not, it would all have been the same. He knew he still loved Sunaina. How could he not? She was his blood and soul for the past 14 years, stood by him in his worst times. But it had all changed with that one extra drink and that one fateful phone call.
"Adi, there is hot water for you. If you are done with your newspaper, could you go to the shower honey? It’s late."
As he turned on the shower and the hot water hit his body, he felt grueling pain leaving his body. He knew how much Sunaina loved him. He loved her a lot too. And till yesterday, his love was not just a lot... it was pure and divine. That extra drink seemed to have ruined this love, or something like that, he was not too sure. It was not like he was cheating on her, at least not yet. But deep down inside he knew something had changed. He had to tell her. Breakfast was the perfect time he thought.
It was common practice between them that she helped him tie his tie every day. Today wasn’t any different, at least not for her. She came to the room, looked at his shirt and dug into the drawer to look for the matching tie. She picked up the grey blue one today. This was the one he had worn for their wedding reception at the Grand Ashok nearly 5 years ago. And Sunaina made it a point to pick that one up, at least once a week for the past 5 years as if to silently remind him of the bond they were in. He always never understood what her point was. Now he seemed to get it. He needed that reminder that he was married. Yesterday was a black mark in his love life. He had to tell her. He had to confess. He loved her.
"There you go" Su said. Then taking a few steps away from and looking at him from head to toe, she went on "Smart as usual" she said, moved closer to him, pecked him on his lips, said "I love you", and walked towards the kitchen to set the table for breakfast. This was painful. His guilt just increased a hundred fold. Of course she loved him. He loved her too. He thought of how Sunaina would react when he confessed. She would not like it. It would break her. But he had to tell her. He could not live knowing that Sunaina was kept in darkness.
He silently sat on the table reading his newspaper. He was more covering his face than reading it. He didn’t know or where to start but she deserved to know the truth. He brought down the news paper and looked at her. She was flicking the remote control and trying to eat her sandwich at the same time. Just as he looked at her, she looked at him and smiled, and put the strand of hair behind her ear. She always looked prettier when her curled hair fell over her forehead. The bright red bindi, subtle eye liner and lip stick made her look gorgeous, especially today in her white salvar suit he had bought for her for their anniversary last month. She had cried when he had gifted her the suit and the diamond ring she always wanted. She had said "I cant believe you love me so much" and had wept like a baby, hugging him tight.
"Sunaina" he called out, meekly. He never called her by her name since they had met in a NCC camp about 14 years ago.
"What happened adi?" she asked, turning off the telivision. He knew she knew something was wrong.
"I have to tell you something" he said, avoiding making eye contact.
"Whats it adi? Whats bothering you?" she said moving closer to him, kneeling down and resting her elbows on his thighs. She gripped his left hand tight. He could sense the sweat, but he was not sure if it was hers or his.
"Remember when you called yesterday night when I came out of the pub to talk to you?"
"Yes. What about it adi" she said. She sounded worried.
"Do you also remember I hung up suddenly and said I would call you back but I didn’t?"
"Clearly!" She stood up. The smile on her face had suddenly disappeared.
"Thats when I fell in love su... Again" he paused, waiting for her to react. She didn’t say a word.
He contintued. "That’s when I fell in love again su. You know I love you dearly. But this time I feel my love is stronger. I want you to know about this first. I have fallen in love with a Yamaha FZ16. Would you buy it for me?"
"ummm... 5 more mins please... am very sleepy" grumbled Aditya. It had been 5 years since they had been married. But for the first time, he was lying about it. Lying about being sleepy that is; because he had hardly slept all night. He just could not close his eyes. Every time he had tried closing his eyes, events of the previous evening flashed before him. It was breath taking. She was.
The bright sun light came in and pierced his eyes as Sunaina undid the curtains.
"Aarghh!! My head hurts. Let the curtains be su" he cried.
"Its time you woke up Adi. Its 8 and you have to get to work. And why wont the head hurt if you drink so much" she said without heeding to his request, opened the windows and headed into the shower.
Aditya opened his eyes, rubbed them red and walked towards the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. It was a bad hangover. As he looked back on yesterday, he felt guilty. It was a very usual thing for him to feel guilty after a bad drunk night. He had everytime, for over 8 years now, said the same thing the day after he got drunk. Promise the world he would never drink again. But today was different. He felt guilt alright. Of what had happened yesterday. Well, not quite what happened, because nothing had. Nothing quiet yet.
"Adi, could you please hand me my towel" cried Sunaina from the shower.
Ideally he would have retorted or may be even gone into the shower to embarrass her, but today he didn’t. He left his coffee cup on the TV, went to the bed room, handed her her towel, saw the pack of cigarettes next to his laptop. He picked it up, picked up the news paper and his coffee and headed to the balcony. As he sat down on the old cane chair in the balcony and lit his smoke, he thought back about what had happened yesterday. The memory was vague... but he felt guilty, even with the vague memory. “I should not have had that last drink” he heard himself saying. He should not have gone outside to attend Sunaina's call. Had he not, it would all have been the same. He knew he still loved Sunaina. How could he not? She was his blood and soul for the past 14 years, stood by him in his worst times. But it had all changed with that one extra drink and that one fateful phone call.
"Adi, there is hot water for you. If you are done with your newspaper, could you go to the shower honey? It’s late."
As he turned on the shower and the hot water hit his body, he felt grueling pain leaving his body. He knew how much Sunaina loved him. He loved her a lot too. And till yesterday, his love was not just a lot... it was pure and divine. That extra drink seemed to have ruined this love, or something like that, he was not too sure. It was not like he was cheating on her, at least not yet. But deep down inside he knew something had changed. He had to tell her. Breakfast was the perfect time he thought.
It was common practice between them that she helped him tie his tie every day. Today wasn’t any different, at least not for her. She came to the room, looked at his shirt and dug into the drawer to look for the matching tie. She picked up the grey blue one today. This was the one he had worn for their wedding reception at the Grand Ashok nearly 5 years ago. And Sunaina made it a point to pick that one up, at least once a week for the past 5 years as if to silently remind him of the bond they were in. He always never understood what her point was. Now he seemed to get it. He needed that reminder that he was married. Yesterday was a black mark in his love life. He had to tell her. He had to confess. He loved her.
"There you go" Su said. Then taking a few steps away from and looking at him from head to toe, she went on "Smart as usual" she said, moved closer to him, pecked him on his lips, said "I love you", and walked towards the kitchen to set the table for breakfast. This was painful. His guilt just increased a hundred fold. Of course she loved him. He loved her too. He thought of how Sunaina would react when he confessed. She would not like it. It would break her. But he had to tell her. He could not live knowing that Sunaina was kept in darkness.
He silently sat on the table reading his newspaper. He was more covering his face than reading it. He didn’t know or where to start but she deserved to know the truth. He brought down the news paper and looked at her. She was flicking the remote control and trying to eat her sandwich at the same time. Just as he looked at her, she looked at him and smiled, and put the strand of hair behind her ear. She always looked prettier when her curled hair fell over her forehead. The bright red bindi, subtle eye liner and lip stick made her look gorgeous, especially today in her white salvar suit he had bought for her for their anniversary last month. She had cried when he had gifted her the suit and the diamond ring she always wanted. She had said "I cant believe you love me so much" and had wept like a baby, hugging him tight.
"Sunaina" he called out, meekly. He never called her by her name since they had met in a NCC camp about 14 years ago.
"What happened adi?" she asked, turning off the telivision. He knew she knew something was wrong.
"I have to tell you something" he said, avoiding making eye contact.
"Whats it adi? Whats bothering you?" she said moving closer to him, kneeling down and resting her elbows on his thighs. She gripped his left hand tight. He could sense the sweat, but he was not sure if it was hers or his.
"Remember when you called yesterday night when I came out of the pub to talk to you?"
"Yes. What about it adi" she said. She sounded worried.
"Do you also remember I hung up suddenly and said I would call you back but I didn’t?"
"Clearly!" She stood up. The smile on her face had suddenly disappeared.
"Thats when I fell in love su... Again" he paused, waiting for her to react. She didn’t say a word.
He contintued. "That’s when I fell in love again su. You know I love you dearly. But this time I feel my love is stronger. I want you to know about this first. I have fallen in love with a Yamaha FZ16. Would you buy it for me?"
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Pooja
"Why are you angry pooja?" I asked in a very low, squeaky voice. The voice was low and squeaky more because it had been about 15 mins since she had gotten into the car and we had hardly spoken. Suddenly, saying one complete sentence resulted in that low squeaky tone.
"I am not angry" she retorted, not taking her eyes off the road which was flooded with cars and bikes and people.
"Why aren't you even looking at me?"
"Just leave me alone for a while. I don’t feel like talking now"
As I drove on in the thick traffic and the treacherous rain, I glanced at her. Pooja. She looked divine. I could see the spark in her eyes as the blinding headlights from ahead flashed into my car. I could see that her hair was kinda wet as she was trying to wipe away the trickling drops of rain off her cheeks and her neck. The piercing on her nose made her look amazingly hot as opposed to seductively cheap which usually a nose ring does to a woman. The cutest part was her foot wear. It was one of those semi high healed slip-ons with a cute flower on each.
"Kuch khaogi?" I said in my broken Hindi.
"Your hindi sounds pathetic" she said
"I am sorry. Do you want to get something to eat?" I said, sheeply
"Its close to midnight. What do you mean get something to eat?" she replied angrily
"What are you pissed for?" I shouted. I was getting irritated with this kind of behavior. Never before had anyone spoken to me like this.
"Ill be alright. Give me some time... I feel like drinking coffee" she said after a pause
"At this hour? Don’t you want to go home?"
"We will go home if you want to go home. Can we have coffee there?"
"No"
"Ok"
There was another long space of silence inside the car. Just the stereo playing Clapton.
... she puts on her makeup,
and brushes her long long hair
and then she asks me,
do I look alright?
And I say darling,
you look Wonderful tonight...
The silence was too penetrating. The rain had died down and so had the traffic. It was just the cool wind that was gushing into the half rolled windows. I HAD to break the silence. I HAD to say something.
"I know a place where we get coffee at this hour" I said, again in that squeaky voice of mine
"I thought you wanted to go home" she said
".. and I thought you wanted a coffee"
"I would love it" she said with a hint of a smile, her first of that evening
"Its about a couple of hours drive but I am sure you will get coffee there"
"Are you sure? Don’t you want to get home?" she asked
"Its coffee you want, coffee you will get"
I turned around and directed the the car to head towards the coffee shop that was a few miles outside city limits wondering if there would be another innings of silence. It was quiet cold now and we could see the moon on the left corner of the wind shield. As I put the car on overdrive the silence was broken. This time it was the sweet voice of pooja
"Can I borrow a smoke?"
"Sure" I said trying to fish the pack from my jeans pocket
"You drive very fast" she said as she she took a drag , “I like it"
That did it. I don’t seem to remember how the next 2 something hours passed as we headed to the coffee place. It was one of the best conversations I have ever had. She asked me about me, my parents, my work, my friends everything. She wanted to know everything. It really didn’t matter to her that I was either saying half truth or lying entirely. She seemed genuinely interested in knowing about me. After our coffee, we took a small walk on the high way. She held on to my arm as the cool wind blew at us. We smoked a couple of cigarettes. She spoke about her. The caffeine seemed to have woken up a monster in her. She spoke of the moon. She told me a hundred stories of her childhood and how she and her sisters and her brothers used to irritate their mother and how her father would come home drunk and beat the boys and how she ran away from her home with just a bag containing a pair of clothes and a few rotis her mother had made for the trip and how she missed her family. I am not sure but I guess I caught her with a tear in her eye. When I enquired, she just warded it off by saying that it was getting too cold and we better head to the car.
The drive back was even better. There was silence this time too. But this time it was different. She held on to my hand as I drove back. In a while I could see that she was fast asleep, like a baby, her hands tightly clasping mine. She looked adorable. We had almost reached the outskirts of the city and the day seemed to be breaking as well. The moon was long gone. In a few minutes, the sun would be shining bright on this part of earth.
She woke up suddenly as the breaks screeched. I had just avoided banging into a paper boy. "That was close" I thought as my eyes were blood shot with lack of sleep. I put my head out of the window and showered a few abuses. She was in a state of shock. She didn’t find it strange that she was holding on to my hand. I didn’t find it odd too. She found it odd that she was still in the car with me
"Where are we?" she asked sleepily
"We are almost back pooja"
"Oh! My God! Its late. I better be heading back" she said looking at her mobile phone
"Ill drop you back. Where shall I drop you off?" I offered
"Are you sure?" she said slowly but consciously taking her hands away from mine
"Yup sure. Where do you want me to.."
"Near any auto would be fine thank you"
"Are you sure?" I said
"Yes. The first one you can find"
"Fine" I said partly with shock and partly with anger. I thought the evening had gone perfectly fine. Things were just perfect. We had had a great time together. We had talked. And talked. And talked. And talked more. And now, suddenly she wanted to get out of the car and away from me. To this day I don’t know why she did that. I have never met her since. I hardly remember her face now.
"There is an auto" I had said
"Thank you" she said without even looking at me
"Here!" I said pulling out 6 fresh 500 rupee notes out of my wallet, "This is for you. I have already paid your boss."
"I cant take this" she said, this time looking into my eyes. "I didn’t do anything"
"That’s alright. I had a wonderful time" I said smiling.
There was another few seconds of silence. This time it seemed the longest. Then she kissed me gently, got off and closed the door behind her
"I thought this was not in the deal" I shouted as she crossed the almost empty road towards an auto. "No kissing on the lips is the only rule I was supposed to follow. Thats what your boss said"
"Good bye" she said, smiling and waving at me
"I am not angry" she retorted, not taking her eyes off the road which was flooded with cars and bikes and people.
"Why aren't you even looking at me?"
"Just leave me alone for a while. I don’t feel like talking now"
As I drove on in the thick traffic and the treacherous rain, I glanced at her. Pooja. She looked divine. I could see the spark in her eyes as the blinding headlights from ahead flashed into my car. I could see that her hair was kinda wet as she was trying to wipe away the trickling drops of rain off her cheeks and her neck. The piercing on her nose made her look amazingly hot as opposed to seductively cheap which usually a nose ring does to a woman. The cutest part was her foot wear. It was one of those semi high healed slip-ons with a cute flower on each.
"Kuch khaogi?" I said in my broken Hindi.
"Your hindi sounds pathetic" she said
"I am sorry. Do you want to get something to eat?" I said, sheeply
"Its close to midnight. What do you mean get something to eat?" she replied angrily
"What are you pissed for?" I shouted. I was getting irritated with this kind of behavior. Never before had anyone spoken to me like this.
"Ill be alright. Give me some time... I feel like drinking coffee" she said after a pause
"At this hour? Don’t you want to go home?"
"We will go home if you want to go home. Can we have coffee there?"
"No"
"Ok"
There was another long space of silence inside the car. Just the stereo playing Clapton.
... she puts on her makeup,
and brushes her long long hair
and then she asks me,
do I look alright?
And I say darling,
you look Wonderful tonight...
The silence was too penetrating. The rain had died down and so had the traffic. It was just the cool wind that was gushing into the half rolled windows. I HAD to break the silence. I HAD to say something.
"I know a place where we get coffee at this hour" I said, again in that squeaky voice of mine
"I thought you wanted to go home" she said
".. and I thought you wanted a coffee"
"I would love it" she said with a hint of a smile, her first of that evening
"Its about a couple of hours drive but I am sure you will get coffee there"
"Are you sure? Don’t you want to get home?" she asked
"Its coffee you want, coffee you will get"
I turned around and directed the the car to head towards the coffee shop that was a few miles outside city limits wondering if there would be another innings of silence. It was quiet cold now and we could see the moon on the left corner of the wind shield. As I put the car on overdrive the silence was broken. This time it was the sweet voice of pooja
"Can I borrow a smoke?"
"Sure" I said trying to fish the pack from my jeans pocket
"You drive very fast" she said as she she took a drag , “I like it"
That did it. I don’t seem to remember how the next 2 something hours passed as we headed to the coffee place. It was one of the best conversations I have ever had. She asked me about me, my parents, my work, my friends everything. She wanted to know everything. It really didn’t matter to her that I was either saying half truth or lying entirely. She seemed genuinely interested in knowing about me. After our coffee, we took a small walk on the high way. She held on to my arm as the cool wind blew at us. We smoked a couple of cigarettes. She spoke about her. The caffeine seemed to have woken up a monster in her. She spoke of the moon. She told me a hundred stories of her childhood and how she and her sisters and her brothers used to irritate their mother and how her father would come home drunk and beat the boys and how she ran away from her home with just a bag containing a pair of clothes and a few rotis her mother had made for the trip and how she missed her family. I am not sure but I guess I caught her with a tear in her eye. When I enquired, she just warded it off by saying that it was getting too cold and we better head to the car.
The drive back was even better. There was silence this time too. But this time it was different. She held on to my hand as I drove back. In a while I could see that she was fast asleep, like a baby, her hands tightly clasping mine. She looked adorable. We had almost reached the outskirts of the city and the day seemed to be breaking as well. The moon was long gone. In a few minutes, the sun would be shining bright on this part of earth.
She woke up suddenly as the breaks screeched. I had just avoided banging into a paper boy. "That was close" I thought as my eyes were blood shot with lack of sleep. I put my head out of the window and showered a few abuses. She was in a state of shock. She didn’t find it strange that she was holding on to my hand. I didn’t find it odd too. She found it odd that she was still in the car with me
"Where are we?" she asked sleepily
"We are almost back pooja"
"Oh! My God! Its late. I better be heading back" she said looking at her mobile phone
"Ill drop you back. Where shall I drop you off?" I offered
"Are you sure?" she said slowly but consciously taking her hands away from mine
"Yup sure. Where do you want me to.."
"Near any auto would be fine thank you"
"Are you sure?" I said
"Yes. The first one you can find"
"Fine" I said partly with shock and partly with anger. I thought the evening had gone perfectly fine. Things were just perfect. We had had a great time together. We had talked. And talked. And talked. And talked more. And now, suddenly she wanted to get out of the car and away from me. To this day I don’t know why she did that. I have never met her since. I hardly remember her face now.
"There is an auto" I had said
"Thank you" she said without even looking at me
"Here!" I said pulling out 6 fresh 500 rupee notes out of my wallet, "This is for you. I have already paid your boss."
"I cant take this" she said, this time looking into my eyes. "I didn’t do anything"
"That’s alright. I had a wonderful time" I said smiling.
There was another few seconds of silence. This time it seemed the longest. Then she kissed me gently, got off and closed the door behind her
"I thought this was not in the deal" I shouted as she crossed the almost empty road towards an auto. "No kissing on the lips is the only rule I was supposed to follow. Thats what your boss said"
"Good bye" she said, smiling and waving at me
Friday, February 25, 2005
Ek phool do maali
The following lines are purely fictitious and are not written with anyone dead or remotely alive in mind. Any resemblance to any person is absolutely a coincidence. Though these lines are not intended to cause any inconvenience to anyone, though if eventually something happens, it is regretted.
It was a strange kind of friendship we shared. Both of us in “love” as some would say with the same girl. Not only to make this complex story simple but also to emphasize on the first paragraph , I would not like to use names. I will henceforth for convenience be using pronouns. So the three most important people in the story will be “him” and “her” and “me”
As I told you, both of us were in love with “her”. For me it happened very much in a filmy istyle……. I was walking down the corridor in college and happened to bump into her. It’ll be nice if you could imagine this happening in super slow motion and since most of you are engineers I am sure its not difficult to imagine [imaginary numbers and all the crap related to them………c/o M1 M2 M3 M4 remember]. Her books fell off her hands and I bent down to pick them up for her and that’s when our eyes met and that one sight was enough to make me fall in love with her. It was not that we started staring at each other, it was more like a quick glance but that was enough to make me go crazy……. bonkers is the right word. Then what followed was the usual, sleepless nights, the sight of “her” in every female you come across and all, which I am sure all of you have experienced and if you haven’t, get a life bozo.
It was through a friend I came to know that I had competition in pursuit of what had now become my ultimate goal in life. The first thing that came out of my mouth when I heard this was …. “ I’ll kill that *** of a ***** ” though I regret having said that now. We happened to meet one day. Our first meeting was quiet an unpleasant one. He was with a group of friends, I was with mine and we exchanged angry stares at each other…… much like a bollywood film, only thing that prevented world war III was that we lacked was a few hockey sticks and a few cycle chains. But as time moved on…… as it was inevitable for us to meet each other since we were in the same college, we often met near the canteen. We started getting speaking to each other and in course of time had become real close friends. We started shareing our experiences with her. Now we started discussing “her” every time we met. The hatred never seemed to arise when we both talked. We seemed to be liking helping each other. Infact, between us we had so much information about her that we were in a position to write her biography [ which by the way we wanted to name as “Life of an Angel” cos both of us believed that she looked like Meg Ryan, the lead actress in a movie called “City of Angels”].
Both of us had even decided that we wouldn’t mind if she went for either of us but that’s where her choice ended………we didn’t want her to go for any one else. Not that either of us did a great deal of talking to her to let her know all this. And by now lot of people in college came to know about this and found it funny that both of us were friends. According to most of them, she wasn’t very good looking and they used a term which both of us refused to subscribe to. I thought that she was the cutest person in the world, and he said that anyone who was 10% as good looking as her was good enough for anyone.
Both of us had our own strong points and weak ones. He being a classmate of hers was a clear cut advantage for him. He had more chances of getting in touch with her. But I was a senior, and I have heard that girls like “men”. And on top of that I hadn’t had any other encounter with her except those glances at me [and now if I remember, I don’t think she even looked at me…….. I guess she abused me and went away]. But I knew a lot of her friends, which I thought was a way towards her [ and now if I look back…….i feel I shouldn’t have taken their help at all………. they in fact screwed up what ever that could have happened]
All of a sudden this story became very one sided. The two of them eventually ended up together but I would like to say that that happened only because of my absence. But from up here I feel happy for him cos I find her happy too. Up where you must be wondering………heaven I would like to say but hell it actually is. Damn the bike which led me to my death.
a. “love is not only blind, it is also deaf, dumb and stupid” great saying
b. “once you are dead, its difficult to see, of hear of speak” great saying
putting a and b together,
“fall in love and die” tejas krishnamoorthy
It was a strange kind of friendship we shared. Both of us in “love” as some would say with the same girl. Not only to make this complex story simple but also to emphasize on the first paragraph , I would not like to use names. I will henceforth for convenience be using pronouns. So the three most important people in the story will be “him” and “her” and “me”
As I told you, both of us were in love with “her”. For me it happened very much in a filmy istyle……. I was walking down the corridor in college and happened to bump into her. It’ll be nice if you could imagine this happening in super slow motion and since most of you are engineers I am sure its not difficult to imagine [imaginary numbers and all the crap related to them………c/o M1 M2 M3 M4 remember]. Her books fell off her hands and I bent down to pick them up for her and that’s when our eyes met and that one sight was enough to make me fall in love with her. It was not that we started staring at each other, it was more like a quick glance but that was enough to make me go crazy……. bonkers is the right word. Then what followed was the usual, sleepless nights, the sight of “her” in every female you come across and all, which I am sure all of you have experienced and if you haven’t, get a life bozo.
It was through a friend I came to know that I had competition in pursuit of what had now become my ultimate goal in life. The first thing that came out of my mouth when I heard this was …. “ I’ll kill that *** of a ***** ” though I regret having said that now. We happened to meet one day. Our first meeting was quiet an unpleasant one. He was with a group of friends, I was with mine and we exchanged angry stares at each other…… much like a bollywood film, only thing that prevented world war III was that we lacked was a few hockey sticks and a few cycle chains. But as time moved on…… as it was inevitable for us to meet each other since we were in the same college, we often met near the canteen. We started getting speaking to each other and in course of time had become real close friends. We started shareing our experiences with her. Now we started discussing “her” every time we met. The hatred never seemed to arise when we both talked. We seemed to be liking helping each other. Infact, between us we had so much information about her that we were in a position to write her biography [ which by the way we wanted to name as “Life of an Angel” cos both of us believed that she looked like Meg Ryan, the lead actress in a movie called “City of Angels”].
Both of us had even decided that we wouldn’t mind if she went for either of us but that’s where her choice ended………we didn’t want her to go for any one else. Not that either of us did a great deal of talking to her to let her know all this. And by now lot of people in college came to know about this and found it funny that both of us were friends. According to most of them, she wasn’t very good looking and they used a term which both of us refused to subscribe to. I thought that she was the cutest person in the world, and he said that anyone who was 10% as good looking as her was good enough for anyone.
Both of us had our own strong points and weak ones. He being a classmate of hers was a clear cut advantage for him. He had more chances of getting in touch with her. But I was a senior, and I have heard that girls like “men”. And on top of that I hadn’t had any other encounter with her except those glances at me [and now if I remember, I don’t think she even looked at me…….. I guess she abused me and went away]. But I knew a lot of her friends, which I thought was a way towards her [ and now if I look back…….i feel I shouldn’t have taken their help at all………. they in fact screwed up what ever that could have happened]
All of a sudden this story became very one sided. The two of them eventually ended up together but I would like to say that that happened only because of my absence. But from up here I feel happy for him cos I find her happy too. Up where you must be wondering………heaven I would like to say but hell it actually is. Damn the bike which led me to my death.
a. “love is not only blind, it is also deaf, dumb and stupid” great saying
b. “once you are dead, its difficult to see, of hear of speak” great saying
putting a and b together,
“fall in love and die” tejas krishnamoorthy
The bike, the fem, the looser and me
65 cubic centimeters of engine capacity, full automatic transmission, 7 horses of brutal power, aerodynamic designed and tested for least air resistance, amazing looks, jet-black………..just the things, which could make a bike fanatic, go crazy. Though I was a person who could do anything for speed, it wasn’t the bike that impressed me. Or was it…..?
There is something fascinating about females and automobiles. I have always been impressed with girls driving or riding, cos these are among others considered a male’s tart according to me. I don’t know what makes me believe that males are born with the uncanny knack of driving, comes in the blood the time a man is born, and females are gods at subtle arts like cooking and cleaning……they are meant for gentle things and they are great at another art, the art of getting anything done by what are called “tears”. [ And guys who don’t know how to ride a bike or drive a car or look at a profession that keeps them in the kitchen, must look for a crash course in “The most painful ways of killing oneself”, a compilation of 5001 ways of killing self in the cruelest and painful ways]
So here was a bike every real guy would kill for, and I was some how not looking at the bike, it was the rider that impressed me. It was very unlike me to do such a thing….. I agree that girls, I used to look at, but given a choice between a gorgeous girl and a awesome automobile, it was the automobile for me. I couldn’t help it, I was a MAN. But there was something about this rider, something I had never seen in a girl, something I had never seen in a bike. I had fallen in love, and this time it wasn’t a Ferrari or a Hyabusa.[For the guys who haven’t heard these names, please work on the killing yourselves part, the world could do without guys like you]
She wasn’t the “ drop dead looks ” kind of a girl. She was no Jennifer Anniston nor was a Meg Ryan. Actually not many people agreed that she was good looking. Infact as far as I can remember, there was only one other guy who agreed with me. I could reveal his name but currently he is busy with a book called “The most painful ways of killing oneself”, apparently he didn’t satisfy one of the rules of being a Real Man. Anyway, both of us could go on about her and her looks and her attitude and her likes and her dislikes all day long. There was something that both of us had seen that the others hadn’t.
When she sat on her bike, Man, could she make it fly? She would release the throttle and her bike would zip past. And I, being a male chauvinist couldn’t imagine my bike being any less then hers. I had to buy a better bike…….something that could at least save my face in front of her. Actually I got a new bike, 134.7cc, 12 horses, 4 speed manual transmission, jet black…….but it was no match for hers. The only thing in my bike, which could get as close to hers was the colour. Now everyone knew that I had got the bike for her. Though it was true, I always disagreed with them. I didn’t want anyone to think of me as one of those guys who do everything for girls. It was not good, for, I had built an image of being anti love, anti female and anti god. Now it was god alone who could save me from all of this. Irony L
All the attitude I had about life, was out of the window. She made me realize a lot of things. It was not that I had a number of baseless conversations in the millions of coffee bars and restaurants spending my money for me to attain the nirvana. Infact I hadn’t even spoken to her. [The “me not speaking to her” holds good as on the day this matter was written. For updates, contact can be made with the author]. It was just the sight of her that made me more literate, not a b c literate, but life literate. Her one glance was enough for me to write a “bhagavd gita”. Not that I didn’t want to speak to her. I would say that an opportunity had not come up but it actually is that I hadn’t been able to muster the courage to go and have my first words with her, the words which would make my life worth while.
Well, all stories have to end….generally all stories have a fairy tail ending. Well that’s not true in my life, it never has been. I was good, but never the best, in anything….sports, intelligence, riding, studies [ please note that I have mentioned studies because though not very logical, the world demands you to do extremely well academically. Its okay if you mug up the stuff and throw up all the crap in the three hour testing space the people have designed]. It was the same case with her. I don’t know how he made it work but the guy whose name I refused to mention earlier, the guy working on the book, ended up with her. Well that also brought an end to our acquaintance. I could not be nice to a man who stole my life….. my love. And I am hoping that the don’t live happily “ever after”. If I cant be happy, no one should be….it’s a dog eat dog world. Well I deserve it though, remember I am not the best.
There is something fascinating about females and automobiles. I have always been impressed with girls driving or riding, cos these are among others considered a male’s tart according to me. I don’t know what makes me believe that males are born with the uncanny knack of driving, comes in the blood the time a man is born, and females are gods at subtle arts like cooking and cleaning……they are meant for gentle things and they are great at another art, the art of getting anything done by what are called “tears”. [ And guys who don’t know how to ride a bike or drive a car or look at a profession that keeps them in the kitchen, must look for a crash course in “The most painful ways of killing oneself”, a compilation of 5001 ways of killing self in the cruelest and painful ways]
So here was a bike every real guy would kill for, and I was some how not looking at the bike, it was the rider that impressed me. It was very unlike me to do such a thing….. I agree that girls, I used to look at, but given a choice between a gorgeous girl and a awesome automobile, it was the automobile for me. I couldn’t help it, I was a MAN. But there was something about this rider, something I had never seen in a girl, something I had never seen in a bike. I had fallen in love, and this time it wasn’t a Ferrari or a Hyabusa.[For the guys who haven’t heard these names, please work on the killing yourselves part, the world could do without guys like you]
She wasn’t the “ drop dead looks ” kind of a girl. She was no Jennifer Anniston nor was a Meg Ryan. Actually not many people agreed that she was good looking. Infact as far as I can remember, there was only one other guy who agreed with me. I could reveal his name but currently he is busy with a book called “The most painful ways of killing oneself”, apparently he didn’t satisfy one of the rules of being a Real Man. Anyway, both of us could go on about her and her looks and her attitude and her likes and her dislikes all day long. There was something that both of us had seen that the others hadn’t.
When she sat on her bike, Man, could she make it fly? She would release the throttle and her bike would zip past. And I, being a male chauvinist couldn’t imagine my bike being any less then hers. I had to buy a better bike…….something that could at least save my face in front of her. Actually I got a new bike, 134.7cc, 12 horses, 4 speed manual transmission, jet black…….but it was no match for hers. The only thing in my bike, which could get as close to hers was the colour. Now everyone knew that I had got the bike for her. Though it was true, I always disagreed with them. I didn’t want anyone to think of me as one of those guys who do everything for girls. It was not good, for, I had built an image of being anti love, anti female and anti god. Now it was god alone who could save me from all of this. Irony L
All the attitude I had about life, was out of the window. She made me realize a lot of things. It was not that I had a number of baseless conversations in the millions of coffee bars and restaurants spending my money for me to attain the nirvana. Infact I hadn’t even spoken to her. [The “me not speaking to her” holds good as on the day this matter was written. For updates, contact can be made with the author]. It was just the sight of her that made me more literate, not a b c literate, but life literate. Her one glance was enough for me to write a “bhagavd gita”. Not that I didn’t want to speak to her. I would say that an opportunity had not come up but it actually is that I hadn’t been able to muster the courage to go and have my first words with her, the words which would make my life worth while.
Well, all stories have to end….generally all stories have a fairy tail ending. Well that’s not true in my life, it never has been. I was good, but never the best, in anything….sports, intelligence, riding, studies [ please note that I have mentioned studies because though not very logical, the world demands you to do extremely well academically. Its okay if you mug up the stuff and throw up all the crap in the three hour testing space the people have designed]. It was the same case with her. I don’t know how he made it work but the guy whose name I refused to mention earlier, the guy working on the book, ended up with her. Well that also brought an end to our acquaintance. I could not be nice to a man who stole my life….. my love. And I am hoping that the don’t live happily “ever after”. If I cant be happy, no one should be….it’s a dog eat dog world. Well I deserve it though, remember I am not the best.
NOT A TRUE STORY
I was an engineering student at last. Having worked so hard for my board exams, it was such a great feeling when the hard work had paid off. And entering an under graduate college is such a great feeling. There is that feeling of “nothing can beat you”. But in my case, this feeling was short lived. I cannot believe that I had changed so drastically and that too for a girl.
I was like any other teenager, with the same old problems like pimples and shortage of allowance and two absolutely unreasonable people in life called “parents”. I used to consider the feminine gender as the worthless half of earth, the root cause of all problems and as a metal fanatic, considered pop equivalent to “nursery rhymes” and Ferrari the only car worth my amazing driving skills. I was leading a normal life when out of the blue, this happened.
Like always, I was “chilling out” with the usual “gang” of friends in the canteen when I saw her. She was the most beautiful girl I had seen. Absolutely my type, tall and absolutely gorgeous. She had such beautiful eyes, that she must have stolen millions of hearts like mine [I could go on and on about her other features, but its not nice mentioning about her nose and all that…..it sounds really weird]. She came in with some of her friends, had a coke or something [ I don’t know exactly cos I could not take my eyes of her eyes] and left, it all took some 5 minutes and this was enough for me to fall for her and those 5 minutes seemed like eternity to me. As she left, she took along with her, my heart….. I had fallen in love with her.[from hear on I will refer to her as “my babe” to make things easier]
Then what followed was absolutely normal, sleepless nights and loss of appetite and direct impact on the internal marks. I had to tell somebody about it and so confessed it to a friend of mine. He happened to give me this amazing advice -to go talk to her and tell her how I felt [ like I hadn’t thought about it] but it seemed an Herculean task to make that journey to my babe and to talk to her. By now it was certain that I couldn’t live without her and I had to do something about it. This is when it stuck to me that if I wanted things to progress, I had got to get in touch to one of her friends. I had heard form one of my friends that to impress a girl, you had to impress her friend first. And this helped me to get to know lots about her. Now I started listening to the corrs and westlife and bryan adams and now even metallica was noise to me. I was totally lost and all I did was to think about my babe all the time, in class, at home, while studying and in everything I did. I had dreamt of us getting married and living together in a small cozy house close to a beach and had gone to an extent of thinking of names for our kids. All this about a girl whom I hadn’t even spoken to. My desperation resulted in her friend setting us up and seeing that we met. She asked me to meet my babe near ******** at 5 in the evening. I was there about 2.45 and had planned a lot for her. I had picked up the greatest bunch of white roses [ white cos I had come to know that she adored white roses] I had seen and I had rehearsed the words I was going to speak to her tonnes of times. But those words weren’t fated to be heard by her. I was never able to speak to her ever. Fate it seems always comes with a sense of irony.
It struck me as if a million spears were trying to stuff their way into my heart. It seemed to be the end of the world for me. Everything has been still for me since then. The last I heard of her was that she had met with an accident on her way to meet me and was killed………… I wish this was not a true story……
I was like any other teenager, with the same old problems like pimples and shortage of allowance and two absolutely unreasonable people in life called “parents”. I used to consider the feminine gender as the worthless half of earth, the root cause of all problems and as a metal fanatic, considered pop equivalent to “nursery rhymes” and Ferrari the only car worth my amazing driving skills. I was leading a normal life when out of the blue, this happened.
Like always, I was “chilling out” with the usual “gang” of friends in the canteen when I saw her. She was the most beautiful girl I had seen. Absolutely my type, tall and absolutely gorgeous. She had such beautiful eyes, that she must have stolen millions of hearts like mine [I could go on and on about her other features, but its not nice mentioning about her nose and all that…..it sounds really weird]. She came in with some of her friends, had a coke or something [ I don’t know exactly cos I could not take my eyes of her eyes] and left, it all took some 5 minutes and this was enough for me to fall for her and those 5 minutes seemed like eternity to me. As she left, she took along with her, my heart….. I had fallen in love with her.[from hear on I will refer to her as “my babe” to make things easier]
Then what followed was absolutely normal, sleepless nights and loss of appetite and direct impact on the internal marks. I had to tell somebody about it and so confessed it to a friend of mine. He happened to give me this amazing advice -to go talk to her and tell her how I felt [ like I hadn’t thought about it] but it seemed an Herculean task to make that journey to my babe and to talk to her. By now it was certain that I couldn’t live without her and I had to do something about it. This is when it stuck to me that if I wanted things to progress, I had got to get in touch to one of her friends. I had heard form one of my friends that to impress a girl, you had to impress her friend first. And this helped me to get to know lots about her. Now I started listening to the corrs and westlife and bryan adams and now even metallica was noise to me. I was totally lost and all I did was to think about my babe all the time, in class, at home, while studying and in everything I did. I had dreamt of us getting married and living together in a small cozy house close to a beach and had gone to an extent of thinking of names for our kids. All this about a girl whom I hadn’t even spoken to. My desperation resulted in her friend setting us up and seeing that we met. She asked me to meet my babe near ******** at 5 in the evening. I was there about 2.45 and had planned a lot for her. I had picked up the greatest bunch of white roses [ white cos I had come to know that she adored white roses] I had seen and I had rehearsed the words I was going to speak to her tonnes of times. But those words weren’t fated to be heard by her. I was never able to speak to her ever. Fate it seems always comes with a sense of irony.
It struck me as if a million spears were trying to stuff their way into my heart. It seemed to be the end of the world for me. Everything has been still for me since then. The last I heard of her was that she had met with an accident on her way to meet me and was killed………… I wish this was not a true story……
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