An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 31

Yah! Yah! I finally made it. I am a UBC Champion. I registered in the nick of time for the challenge and the thought of making a novella, with Orkut as the backdrop flashed at the back of the mind. It was my way way to pay tribute to Orkut, my first love, who will soon be history. I was apprehensive since doing 31 chapters on 31 Days for a novella was quite a task. I know, the novella is not best seller stuffs but at least a start. It's fraught with mistakes and grammar confusion. Still, I am happy to live up to the challenge. My first ever novella, spanning over 31 days, on the blog.

Today is the final Day, Day 31: The novella 'An Orkut Love Story' is linked to Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014

An Orkut Love Story:

CHAPTER 31:

We’ve been drinking inside Uncle Vijay’s room and he faked fever to Swagata, oblivious of the happening inside the room. The clock struck midnight. Vijay uncle dumps me out of his room filled with cigarette smell and out pouring of alcohol.

I traipse towards Swagata’s room, holding a candle in my hand and slowly open the door. It’s dark inside. I can sense she is fast asleep, curled on the bed. I can’t help feeling the frantic heart-beat..dil dhadakne do! (Let the heart beat). After all, we will see each other after ages. Not in my wildest fantasy, I would imagine we would meet like that. 

‘You are what fairy tales princesses are made of’

‘You sleep like a cute baby’

 ‘Your angelic smile makes me want to fall in love over and over again with you’

‘Independent, incurable romantic who can feel the beauty and pain of love’

‘Your belief in our love makes you the most beautiful person on earth’

‘I promise to love you forever, take you to the gates of heaven’

‘I shall hold your hands till old age, narrate our love stories to our grand-children’

‘My love for you is like the vast ocean, Swagata De’

I hear someone making a slight movement on the bed, trying to slowly push out of the bed. I hold the candle right in front of her face.

“You?!” She is bewildered. “Shit! I got so scared, thinking a thief erupted inside the room or some ghost is lurking around.

I smile. “If you reject my proposal, I will turn into a lovable ghost and haunt you forever.”

“But! How you got inside the room? Did you climb? Has anybody seen you?,” She asks with a frightened face.

I put my finger on her lip. “Don’t say anything. Vijay told me everything and he took me here. Swagata, I love you. Will you marry me?,” I propose.

“Aisa koi propose karta hai kya (This is how someone proposes),” she asks with a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know any other way. Don’t worry about Tarun. Vijay told me everything.”

“Yeah, such a big asshole. It’s Vijay uncle, by the way.”

“Arre yaar! I recited a poem for you. A gift for you.” I give her the CD.”

“Wow! I can’t believe it. You are proposing to me with a CD of Amitabh Bachchan holding a gun in Ek Ajnabee. You are mad. It seems that I must teach you romance.”

Swagata opens the CD box and a red rose falls on her feet. She reads the note inside, ‘Listen to song no.3.’

She puts the CD in the lap top. The romantic song starts playing, ‘Tere liye Mere Sanson mujhe tum se pyar hai.’ She hugs me, her hands pressed on her face and tears rolling down on her cheek. “I love you too, Mr Karan. Will you marry me?”

I bend on my knee to kiss her hand, “I do, Swagata. I promise to love you, forever.”

Swagata face beams. “Hey! Let’s go on Orkut and flirt shamelessly like in the old days.”

It was my turn to protest, “Swagata, not now.”

She makes a face. “Please, please, please,” She pleads. “One last time, baby.”

We log in to see a message flashing, ‘We regret to inform you that Orkut is now closed.’

We made faces. Uncle Vijay joins us, singing, ‘Le Jayenge Le Jayenge, Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge.’ The three of us tightly embrace each other.

GOA

The calm water and gentle breeze flutter our hair as we walk, hand in hand at Palolem Beach, Goa. It’s midnight. Not a soul could be spotted on the beach. There is a sense of serenity as timid waves swoosh during the night and we steal innocent kiss, leisurely plodding our steps on the sand. It’s a beautiful and silent night.

We walk back to our shack. “Coffee, I ask?”

Swagata teases me, “Dunno, whether I should try your coffee.”

“Try me out, baby. I mean my coffee.”

“You are very metro-sexual,” she gets naughty, running her fingers on my chest.

“I am only sexual.”

We kiss each other and make intimate love. We are a newly engaged couple, dying to get married in three months here at Palolem Beach and planning for a huge red-designed Orkut logo.

The End.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 30

Day 30: This post is written as a novella, 'An Orkut Love Story' for the prompt, Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 30:

September 30, 2014

I walk inside the boisterous café Leopold, swarmed by the typical South Mumbai crowd, hip n hop local and foreign alike. I scout for Vijay Uncle but there is no sign of him. I settle at the right corner, close to the entrance door, facing the horde of hawkers selling fake branded stuffs. I order a King Fisher Strong beer and lit a cigarette.

A tall, bespectacled man in his 40s, wearing Dolce and Gabbana tee and Blue Denims, approaches me, ‘Karan?” I nod. He offers me a tight handshake, introducing himself as ‘Vijay.’ I was expecting to meet an old man, nearing 60 plus but Vijay uncle tells me that he is the younger brother of Swagata’s Mum. We order a huge beer pitcher and it didn’t take long for our conversation to veer towards Swagata.

He opens his laptop and asks, “Log on your Orkut account. Remember, today is September 30. It’s the last day to hang on Orkut and tomorrow, it will be buried in history.” He eyes me, “Okay, transfer your precious document to Google drive. I already saved Swagata’s stuffs on Orkut. Both of you have made history by falling in love on Orkut and high time to take things to the next level.  Make it a symbolic Orkut love story.”

“But, Vijay, Swagata is engaged to Tarun,” I protest. 

                                      

“We called off the engagement. This idiot was two-timing her with other women. But, listen, it’s quite a story,” Vijay Uncle pats me on the back.

“Tarun is obsessed with him own image and nurture the false impression that he can buy Swagata’s love by the power of money. You know what asshole was doing? If Swagata stops at the mall to gush about a sexy dress, Tarun would force her to accept it as gift. If she needs to go somewhere, he would order a brand new car that would land at her door step. The ass was forcing gifts down her throat. Once, they were on a date and Swagata was telling that she is planning to get herself a new I-phone, well, you can take a guess. Designer shoes, expensive watches and air tickets would land at her door steps.

Few girls walk inside Leopold. Vijay winks at me, “Hot chicks, na. Dude! That’s the perk of being a bachelor at 40.” He gulps his beer. “I am very close to my niece. I know her too well to say that she cannot live without you. Tarun was suffocating her with his obsession. I knew, right in the beginning, that something was not normal and got some men to follow this fool. He was playing the same game with not one but several girls. We caught him red handed.”

 “This bastard is so shameless that she asked Swagata to give back all his gifts. I slapped him..bloody chutiya,” Vijay uncle suddenly became all charged.

Tomorrow is Sunday and Swagata will be home all night. We will sneak inside the house and, at midnight, you just pop inside the room to surprise her on Orkut’s last day. It’s time to fall in love all over again. We clink glasses and drink merrily.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 29

Today is Day 29: This post, part of the novella 'An Orkut Love Story' is written as part of the prompt Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014

CHAPTER 29:

I just discovered how blessed I am to have a criminal streak. Perhaps, I should join the underworld in Mumbai since I’ve been spending sleepless nights conspiring to kill Tarun. Khallas! Alcohol is doing the trick in my obsession to plot my love rival’s death. What if I give Supari (contract) to someone to gun him down or mow him, disguised in a road rage? Right now, I am seriously considering to start a network of small time goons, gangster and the underworld. Ahem! Ahem! Chota Shakeel and Dawood (Under world King Pins) are rotting in jail. Woe betide me! I could have kidnapped Tarun so that I elope with Swagata. Shit man! Whatta weird thoughts crossing my mind! Blame it on alcohol.

THREE YEARS LATER

I logged on Orkut out of sheer boredom, only to realize I de-activated my account ages ago. I re-activate, going through my old profile pics and checking my scraps which is now vintage stuffs. The last scrap showing was sent by Swagata, ages ago. It tempted me to check her profile only to see her in solo. It seems she deleted her engagement pictures with Tarun for more privacy. Or, perhaps, I am the reason. May be, she finds me repulsive. Okay! Let bygones be bygones. After all, I have a life on Facebook.

2014:

I receive an e-mail from Google: After ten years of sparking conversations and forging connections, we have decided it's time for us to start saying goodbye to Orkut. We will shut down Orkut on September 30, 2014. You can export your profile data, community posts and photos usingGoogle Takeout (available until September 2016). We are preserving an archive of all public communities, which will be available online starting September 30, 2014.

I can’t help but feel a moment of sadness. After all, Orkut was the place I found love and met Swagata where we flirted shamelessly, baby-ing each other, exchanging, silly lovey-dovey notes and making dirty jokes. We were all over the place that once Kushal scrapped us with, ‘Get a room, guys.’ I log off. No point in delving over things that was never meant to be.

I dunno why I am hitting a high emotional chord today and constantly logging on long forgotten sites to relive painful memories. The fingers are behaving topsy-turvy today, hits the button of Yahoo! Mail! I stumble upon a couple of e-mails bearing the id of a certain Vijay Singhania. “Hi Karan, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since a long time. I am Vijay, Swagata’s uncle.  I want to meet you and perhaps you may not be aware that Swagata has shifted back to Mumbai. Hope you will reply to my mail. You can call me on 989016xxxx.”

I thought of deleting the e-mail but, on second thought, I replied. “Thanks Vijay Uncle. I have moved on ...” We exchanged few e-mails and it seems like Vijay uncle is as stubborn as her niece, hell-bent to coax me into giving my phone number.

In the flick of second, another e-mail flashes, “Dude! We must meet this week in Mumbai over beer. I know for sure that you still love Swagata and before you chuck me out, let me tell you that my niece is my life. I can’t bear to see her unhappy. How can both of you live such a sad existence? C’mon! Guys, face it. 

Swagata told me everything about you. I’ve held her in my arms when my sister and brother brought her from the hospital for the first time. One thing I know for sure: It’s in her genes to keep things for herself, taking a long time to pay heed to her inner feelings. But, she has a heart capable of loving selflessly. You know a bit, like me. After all, it runs in the family. You know, we are so bad at expressing love coz it hurts our ego.”

Finally, I relented. Vijay uncle calls, “Dude! Ready to bond over beer at Leopold on Saturday at 2 p.m. We can sit together to admire the chicks in Mini-skirts.” I chortle, “Cool, Uncle.”

“No ‘uncle me’, buddy. I hate formalities. See you at 2 and chill. I am not planning to murder you.”

I smile. Vijay uncle is quite energetic on phone and his voice is full of enthusiasm. I am apprehensive, though. After all, I am meeting the uncle of Swagata and hope he is not some boring old man who wants to settle scores with me. Get ready boy for some drama, may be, pound of fist landing on my face. I just hope he is not related to Muhammad Ali.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 28

Day 28: This chapter for 'An Orkut Love Story' is written as part of the prompt Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014

CHAPTER 28:

“I don’t know what you think about me? Trust me, it is as tough for me as it is for you to let go,” Swagata’s voice chokes with emotion.

She is on the verge of crying for the past one hour, finally broke down to tears and we avoided eye contact with each other during our conversation. “You must be thinking that I am a weak person. Perhaps, you are right. I don’t have the strength to say no to my parents and go through the whole shit.”

I nod in approval. I don’t think that I nurture any strength to make her see reason to carry on with this long distance relationship. I observe, “There is no point discussing things that are not meant to be.”

She bobs her head, “You were drunk yesterday. I know you are nursing your wounds. Love is a complex emotion where we miraculously grow attached to someone. I know, we don’t need any reason to love. It just happens. As they say, there is a reason for every pain caused by the heart and it’s better to lose in love than never having loved at all.”

“Let’s grow in love rather than feel rejected by this devil called heart break,” Swagata tries to console me. “It will take us a while to get out of it but we will, if we go with the flow. I believe that someone, may be a greater power or guardian angel, is watching over us and will lift us, only if we allow it. Love comes in different forms.”

“Guess, you are right, Swagata. One should always go with the flow in this journey called life. After all, we are all seekers. This is what Paulo Coelho tells,” I try to ease the tension.

We hug and kiss. Perhaps, it’s destiny’s last kiss.

Six months later:

I started dating a couple of girls after Swagata moved to Hong Kong but I feel something was missing in my life. I feel so incomplete without ‘her.’ Occasionally, I gleaned through Swagata’s profile and almost got a heart attack when I saw her engagement pictures with Tarun. I de-activated my Orkut’s profile. 

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 27

Day 27: The post Chapter 27 for the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story' is written as part of the prompt ' Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 27

Life has stopped making sense for me. How I wished it was just a mindless joke made by Swagata to gauge my love! Life without Swagata is painful. I feel alone, walking for hours in the scorching sun from Marine Drive till Chowpatty Beach, jumping on the train to Dadar, waiting for long hours to get a darshan of Lord Ganesha at Siddhi Vinayak Temple.

It’s the first time in my life that I am offering prayers to Lord Ganesha, pleading for love. ‘I want Swagata back in my life. Dear Ganesha! I will host Puja in our house if you perform miracle by getting us married.’ I close my eyes and whisper my secret in the ear of Ganesha’s muse, the rat, “Please send Swagata back.

Please tell Ganesha, my dear friend.” I am amazed at my own twists and turns. Love does strange things to people, converting an orthodox atheist into a believer of God. An inner voice was telling me to pick myself up and start living life. Kushal was telling, ‘Dude! Chill! Start dating again. It’s the only way to forget Swagata. Stop sending her frantic sms-es or blank calls.’ This time Tania didn’t preach but only said, “Do what you feel is right for you and start living your life. But, one thing, you cannot blame her. Remember, she told you not to build expectations about the relationship.”

Perhaps, they were right. I should stop going on Orkut. Instead, I’ve been drinking almost every single day, listening to mushy songs and shedding bucket loads of tears. “I need to bury the whole thing and, I need to carry on with my life,” the inner voice reasoned. I face withdrawal symptom and cut myself completely from the whole world. I’ve stopped hanging out in college or café since I don’t want to answer questions about Swagata.

I am drunk and can barely move away from the bed, curling my head on the pillow. “Should I call her for the last time to wish her well on her way to Hong Kong,” I ask myself. The ego turns me down. “If she cannot think about you, why should you call? Let her be.” The phone is buzzing. My fingers fidget on the phone buttons to pick up the phone. Finally, I pick up the call.

I feel goose bumps running in my stomach. “Hi, how are you,”? Swagata hesitantly asks. I am having mixed feeling and try to speak in a normal tone, worried that my blurred tongue may arise suspicion that I am drunk.

“Hi, Swagata, I am fine,” I stammer. “Ok. You are drunk. Listen, I am leaving for Hong Kong in two days and wish that we part on a good note. I don’t want things to be awry between us and, if we ever meet again, we shouldn’t be awkward into each other’s company. Tomorrow, 5 pm, Barista, at Sivaji Dadar. You okay with that?” “Cool.” “Chalo, see you kal. Please take care of yourself.” “Hmm! Thanks for your concern,” I sarcastically remark. She hangs up.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 26

Today is Day 26. This chapter as part of the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story is written as part of the prompt, .Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

I've been running late for the challenge and trying to catch up with the latest posts to keep up with the challenge. Apologies for those hopping to read the latest. Guess, feeling the fatigue.

CHAPTER 26:

I landed in front of Swagata’s flat at 9 in the morning to surprise her with flowers, ‘I Love You’ card and huge packet of chocolate.  It is early morning. I waited for the past two hours for her to walk past the gate on her way to work and woo her with flowers.

A mixed feeling of worry and frantic heart-beat is enveloping my body right now.  I hate my sixth sense which always rings true and right now, it’s killing me.

I feel a lump in my heart when Swagata, dressed in red shirt and blue denim, popped out of nowhere like Cinderalla and her face showing a mild irritation. Her eyes caught my face and I smiled to her. She hastily approached me, clenched my fist and whispered, ““What are you doing here? Walk behind me till Infinity Mall.” I followed her order and after walking for five minutes in the scorching heat, we reached Infinity Mall.

She looks around before asking, “What were you doing in front of the gate?”

I am confused. “What do you mean and what’s wrong with you, yaa? I wanted to surprise you..”

She stole a quick glance at the flowers and chocolates. She exudes a hesitant smile, “Is it for me? Okay. I am taking it for the last time.”

“I need to tell you something important. It is about us. We are meeting for the last time since uncle and aunty saw us together last time, holding hands and kissing at Barista. As it is, my internship is getting over and you know very well that I am leaving for Hong-Kong in two weeks. I see no point for us to keep meeting in hiding and Dad knows about you.”

“What the fuck?” I am infuriated. “Why don’t you tell them about us? I can meet your uncle..”

She cuts me short. “Are you mad or what? I will get into trouble. O-k-a-y! Sorry for shouting. May be it’s my fault that I didn’t tell you that my parents are very conservative and they have found a guy for me in Delhi. I am getting married in a year.”

“I hope you understand. I mean to say, I will always cherish the time spent together and you have given me so much happiness,” her voice choking with emotion.

I was at a loss of words and in a spate of anger just shot, “If this is your decision, I cannot help it.”

Swagata gave me a tight hug and said, “Bye.” Tears rolled on her cheeks as she hopped in the rickshaw, “Bhaiya, Andheri Station jaldi.”

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 25

Day 25: This chapter for the novella,  'An Orkut Love Story' is written as part of the prompt Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 25:

The heavy rain and wind splattered on the verandah at CCD and I moved inside the AC room to save my steaming coffee from the prey of the water. The café wore a deserted look and I climbed upstairs to sit peacefully and hear the sound of rain water rattling on the roof.

I saw a girl almost on the verge of passing out and overheard her friend scolding her. “Koyal, you are sloshed and stop making a scene. How will you go home? Have some water na.” Koyal shouted, “Fuck you bitch. Leave me alone. I don’t want water and wanna puke. The friend was in a state of panic and looked around the café furtively and called out to me. “Hey, I am Sonali. Can you help to take her inside the washroom? ” We struggled to hold Koyal straight for a while and she finally throw out. Quite a scene it was! Finally, we were done after forcefully putting the bottle of Bisleri inside her mouth.

Sonali phone buzzed. “Haan, Mama, I am coming.” “Shit,” Sonali tells me. “It’s already 10 p.m and I gotta go home. Can you do me a favor? Please take her home at Churchgate.” I nodded. I almost dragged Koyal inside the taxi, pulling her with all my might and was physically depleted. I was getting irritated when she was twisting my hair lock. “Hey! You are cute. Kiss me and let’s date. I promise to love you,” She raucously declared.

We remained in touch after the incident and started dating after some time. Till today, I still can’t come to terms how I accepted her proposal. The first date was a mental torture and we hanged out at Fire N Ice in Lower Parel. She was already high on Vodka and shouted under my nose, “Hahaa!! I already downed six pegs of Vodka. Can you beat that? I didn’t know where to look.” She pushed me on the dance floor and I feel powerless, forcing my steps to match hers’ and her voice, worse than the blaringly loud music, roaring like a wounded tigress.

I was shocked to see the real Koyal, loud and crass, passing comments at every possible person and unfazed that they would hear her. She was over-dressed in a weird mini-skirt, adorned with a brown belt that made her a fashion disaster.

We reached early at the venue and something must have hit her in the head when she went on shouting in the ears of everyone as if some breaking news came on TV. “Hey! Look at this chick, she is wearing a blue skirt gifted by her boy- friend. Now, look there….haha..see this dude. Now, who wears Black shoes on Blue Jeans?” My face grew red with anger and didn’t know where to hide.

On the spur of the moment, I wanted to plaster something on her mouth or mix her drink with something so that she loses her voice. Koyal almost stomped on my feet in a tizzy of excitement, hell bent to damage my hearing power. “Getting bored, now. Let’s hook up somewhere in this corner,” as she pointed her finger towards the corridor, right outside the washroom. She forcefully takes me away from the dance floor and despite my protest, held to me tight and started kissing me. I felt molested for the first time in my life.

Once, we were driving at Bandra Bandstand and , somehow, I forget my driving license at home when a cop stopped us. The cop, asked in a fearful voice, ‘License.’ I was at a loss of words and almost begged him to let us off by forking out 200 bucks when Koyal shouted, “Only 200 bucks. You have 1000 bucks in your pocket. Give it to Sir.” What choice did I have? In the flick of seconds, my money was gone, owing to the genius mind of my girl-friend.

Swagata burst out laughing and rolled on the floor. “Oh my…holy fuck! What were you thinking when you started dating her?  Poor you! I pity you.” I felt like an idiot.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 24

Day 24: This post is written for the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story' as part of the prompt Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 24:

We watched Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na in the morning at Eros, Churchgate, holding hands, cuddling and stealing passionate kisses, hiding behind the veil of darkness, a privilege enjoyed in the theater.

We couldn’t leave each other’s hands and eyes. She leaned her head on my shoulder, as I run my fingers down on her hair and cheek, stroking her lips with my finger. Swagata smiles coyly and blushing, turning her face away, at times scolding me, ‘Let’s watch the film peacefully, na.’

Today, I saw a new Swagata, a sensitive girl who giggle at silly jokes cum japes and wiped her tears with the pink handkerchief and tissue papers. I smile, wondering, “She is so sensitive, something she keeps guarded to herself like a secret and pretends to be someone who can never be hurt by anything. I gotta win her heart and sweep her off the feet.” Often, she would pull my hair and I would stare openly at her, to see her tears. “I can’t help falling in love with her and even while in tears, she is beautiful like a beautiful angel. I don’t want this 'carpe diem' moment to die.”

In the evening, we spent the night together at Tushar and Tania’s flat, as they left for Goa in the morning. I am sitting on the bed, toggling with the house key, eagerly waiting for Swagata to get out of the shower. I can hear a cute voice singing, ‘Tip tip Barsa Pani’ as gentle drop of water falls.

She seductively walks inside the room, her luscious body wrapped in a white towel. Her eyes, red with passion, eyes me and biting her lips.

She smirks at me, “What are you looking at?”

“I am not admiring your hot body but a song is playing in my mind, Paani mein Nahake aur bhi Namkeen hogayi hai (You have become more savoury/sensual after getting inside the water).”

She blushes, “Oho!”

Swagata drops the towel and inches towards me, the collar of my shirt, running her finger on my face. I start kissing her, caressing her flawless body, running my hand on the upper part of her body. We made love that night. It is the most beautiful night which saw two become one. She finally said, “I love you.” I held her in my arms, “I love you, too.”

We are drunk on Vodka, her Apple flavored Smirnoff, perfect for the shared intimacy. She gleans, “Do you mind if I ask you something about your ex? Was she as good as me?”

This question struck me like a volcano and it was not the occasion to spoil our intimate moment. “Baby, you are the best. No, she cannot be as good as you. I hate thinking about her, her vision flashes back to the mind irritation and spurt of anger.”

She is adamant, “See, she is no longer with you and why get irritated over an in-existent relation. I want to know you better and you can ask me anything, about my ex-boyfriends and flings.”

I eye her, “Are you sure you won’t get jealous? Be ready to roll on the floor with laughter.”

She asks, “Do I look insecure?”

I hold her by the waist as we sit on the bed, ready to narrate her to my story with Koyal who made me lose my mental sanity.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 23

Day 23: The prompt for the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story' is written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 23:

“Why are you acting so weird?” Swagata furiously asks. She flings my cigarette pack on the table, “You don’t pick up calls, man and now, what’s the point, sitting here as if we are acting in a silent movie? Kuch toh Bol, at least, for fuck sake!”

“Hmm! I try to be normal at times. I was busy at Nani’s place meeting cousins and few of my friends in Pune,” I lie. “See at some point, we need our space in the relationship, na. I am sure you felt free during that time, meeting people and enjoying at the art gallery,” I try to shrug her doubt.

“All this is very good. But, it seems insensitive at times na,” She looks away. “And, your new normal is not funny at all.” I pretend not to hear.

She is fuming, “Are you really listening to what I am saying? You seem to be in another world and, I mean, I came to meet you, skipping, work and you!”

I cajole her, “Sorry! I was lost in some thoughts. What were you saying?”

“I don’t repeat myself,” She says with a forced smile.

“C’mon yaar, don’t act so pricey.”

“That I am,” she pulls the collar of her Salwar.

“Babe, don’t show attitude. You are trying to roll the collar as if you wearing a shirt,” I tease her.

“Fuck you. I told you, na. I don’t repeat myself.”

I pretend to be scandalized, “WoW! Who are you not to repeat yourself? Amitabh Bachchan..hum jahan khade hai line wohi se shuru hota hai.”

She giggles, “Woohoo! Kya dialogue, Sirjee! You or me?”

“Of course, me. You don’t know how many girls run after me. Who will run after you? You are just pretending to be the female Amitabh Bachchan with aha..I don’t repeat myself..killer attitude and all!”

She hits me on my back. I shouted in the café, “Look, people! She is hitting on me.”

“Shut up! Please don’t embarrass me.”

“Aha, Madam is getting embarrassed. Wah! Kya baat hai. News of the Day: India Wants to Know.”

She chides me, “Stop being such a moron, yaa. I beg of you. But, I like you, my moron, a very cute one.” Swagata pinches my cheek.

The last time’s dejection has given way to love. I wonder how complex and confusing human emotions can be. Love is an oxymoron, don’t they say? At the rate things are going, looks like it’s a one-sided love story. “Shit man! I can’t believe that I am falling in love with her more and more every single day and this is not happening. It’s so shitty and don’t wanna it to screw my happiness like that. Another month and she’ll be gone. Somebody, please stop it. I am imploring the Gods, right now.

She caresses my face with her hand, “Baby, what are you thinking?”

“Random thoughts,” I wink.

“Acha! Let’s go for any movie, tomorrow and then I wanna spend the night with you.”

“Done,” I feel air lifted. We kissed like long lost lovers.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 22

Day 22: This prompt is written as part of Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 22:

This is the story of Hasee Sukhi Parivaar (Happy and smiling family). It is story of Rahul, creative director in an ad agency and Sunanda, managing a content website, based in Delhi. They have a doting and cute daughter who is pretty like a doll. They first met on Orkut, fell in love over Coffee at Taj Hotel Colaba and got hitched in Delhi. One thing is not sure who sent the friend request first and till date they keep fighting like cats and dogs with Pehle Aap syndrome, Kushal tells.

It’s like sending the tennis ball in each other’s court on who first sent the friend request. But, they met on Orkut, scrapped and love each other to no end. So, boy! Take heart and after all, your love story may not go Kaput just because it’s Orkut.

I ask, “Hell dude! Are you narrating me someone else love story to soothe my nerves or just doing time pass?

Kushal tells, “Nahin, bro. It’s a real love story and a match made in heaven. Both of them are very charming, funny people who always have a smile on their faces. Hua yeh as I am telling, someone sent someone a friend request but end up putting the blame on each other since it got to do with their sweet ego. It’s the only conflict that ever exist between the cuddling couple a bit like Jaipur se nikli gaadi pehle

Dilli challe halle…pehle aap pehle aap (The train slowly leaves Jaipur for Delhi). It’s You Not Me.”

Our Haasi Sukhi Parivaar fought with parents like hell to get married since Sunanda’s Dad is in the army and the moment she heard about Orkut love, he raised a storm in the house. Now, the next question is how he found out about the love story.

Sunanda wrote the name of Rahul in the bathroom, singing romantic songs on the top of her voice and would spend two hours day dreaming while the water tap would be running in. So, her army Dad wondered what’s his dear daughter is doing in the bathroom and he got the shock on his life when he saw a huge scribbling O for Orkut in Red and the name of Rahul decorating the walls. After all, why would a daughter do that?”

“Then?” I eagerly ask. I take a cigarette drag and ask, “So, her Dad found out?”

“Yeah. Both set of parents were dead against Orkut love but finally relented when Rahul and Sunanda threatened to run away..you see, no break up, nothing of that sort happened nor black magic by parents to stand on their way. It’s better to pack them away rather than facing the risk of seeing them elope coz khandaan ke naakh ka sawaal hai (bringing disrepute to the family honor.”

“You mean they never fight or what? Kya love story hai yaar..chutiya (Hindi cuss word) you wasted my time. At least agar dono mein fight hota (If they fought or broke up), at least I could have borrowed a cue to sort out things with Swagata, na!”What’s with the name, Hasee Sukhi Parivaar?

“Arre wohi nah, itna cute couple hai keep disagreeing with each other on who made the first Orkut move. Rahul refuses to accept till now that it was him who sent the famous friend request and first scrap while Sunanda shouts on every roof that it’s not her. But, they always kiss and make up. After fighting with each other over Orkut ka friend request, they click smiling pictures with each other and thus the name, Hasee Sukhi Parivar finds its way on Orkut.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 21

DAY 21: This prompt, 'An Orkut Love Story' is written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 21:

I am facing withdrawal symptom and gradually cutting myself from the world of Swagata. She called last night to fix a movie date and I lied to her, telling that I am going to meet my Nani (Grand-mother) in Pune since she is ill.

I lied because her last words of not expecting too much from each other came as a blow to me. Swagata’s words ratcheted up tension on my mind and suddenly, I feel insecure that we may not be, after all, made for each other.  I am spending the week end at Kushal and Tanya’s apartment, seeking solace in alcohol and getting drown in my own world. I was getting aloof.

“Hell, where are you, dude? I asked how Swagata is doing and you didn’t even reply. Are you alright?” Tania shouts, on the top her voice. I was shaken by the volume of her voice, shouting at me as I try to defend myself. “No! No! I am fine.” Sensing my discomfort, Tushar says, “Chill dude, I am sure something is wrong between you and Swagata. Tell us.” Tania adds, “See! We know something not right and we know you too well. So, stop putting a façade of I am cool type.”

I finally narrated the sobbing story when Swagata’s words pierced my heart like an arrow. “Loser,” Tania chides me. I look at her, shocked as Tushar intervenes, “Come on, Babe. Stop being so hard on him.”

“Obviously,” she curtly replies. “Swagata is practical. I mean, why take load at a fun relationship and screw your own life? Who gets married on Orkut? Dude! Enjoy your life, have fun and get laid. Don’t make it a shitty messy and as it is, she got her own life in Hong Kong.”

I am feeling dejected right now with strong words spelled out by one of the persons I call my own, Tania in a big city where many dread loneliness. Tushar made a large peg of whisky for me and out of the blue says, “Chalo, dude. Ignore her. I’ll tell you the love story of two of my friends who got hitched on Orkut.” The words left Tania fuming and protesting over Tushar’s ‘ignoring her’ kinda statement. She walks to her room.

“Listen, if you really serious, you gotta woo Swagata and go easy on her. Haan, we will call them, ‘Hasee Sukhi Parivar’ who met and fell in love on Orkut. Today, they have a lovely son and both of them relentlessly argue on who sent a friend request first. So chill and enjoy the real story and enjoy your drink.”

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 20

Today is Day 20: This post, 'An Orkut Love Story' is linked to Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 20:

I was running late to meet Swagata who waited for almost 40 minutes at Mc Donald at Bandra. First, there was this mad traffic and when I reached Bandra, I hastily dropped in the café to check my Orkut scrap. I thought that I’ll just log in for five minutes but the stupid, slow net connection made me lose time.

“How come you are so late?” Swagata asks.

“I hopped on to check my Orkut. I was waiting to check a scrap from a friend about something but net connection was slow. Sorry, yaar,” I defend myself.

She shrugs, “That’s okay. But, dude, there is a life beyond Orkut and why can’t you live without it. We have all become narcissists in the making and internet has taken over our lives and we are all slaves. Our world revolves around Orkut. I, somehow, feel it’s a fad that will slowly disappear.”

I let it pass. I feel that Orkut can never disappear and wonder what will happen to the whole world who   are hooked to it. I didn’t continue the debate on the life span of Orkut.

We ordered Beef burgers and Strawberry milkshake. Swagata took a bite of the burger and says, “I wanted to tell you something in a very honest way. I mean, we are dating for fun and I am enjoying every moment spent together, right from the time we met on Orkut and hanging out together, kissing, holding hands and making love.”

“Yeah so?”

“Please, don’t take it badly,” She pleads.

I kept silent for a while, takes a sip of Strawberry milk shake as she fixes her gaze on me, waiting for a reaction.

I became restless. “I am listening Swagata.”

“You know anything can happen in a relationship. In three months, I’ll be back to Hong Kong and you will stay here in Mumbai. I don’t want to take load with this relationship. It’s just that this thing shouldn’t affect our lives and let’s be happy in enjoying each other’s company for the moment. I hate those intense stuffs in life and we shouldn’t build too much expectation about each other or spending the rest of our existence together like mushy romance shown in films.”

Swagata pumps in the bullet in my chest. “As it is, we will not be with each other forever and let’s make memories by giving each other space. I just want to be sure about things with you. Sorry, yaar if I am hurting you but it’s the truth.” She is feeling so guilty telling me this.

I chortle that it raised a few eye brows, turning around to look at us. “WoW! You are sounding like a tragedy Queen. Itni si baat (Such a small thing)! Why get into the serious love shuv, passionate affair to complicate our lives and after all, we are too young to let these things affect our career.”
She expressed relief, Thank God, a burden is lifted off my head and hugs me.

I concealed my true feeling inside. The truth is I am falling in love with Swagata every single day and just acted like the cool dude not to make her feel guilty about her words and to hide the feeling of being rejected. The day may come! I can’t help feeling dejected.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 19

Day 19: This post is written as part of the prompt, 'An Orkut Love Story' for Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 19:

The sky suddenly turns cloudy and drizzle precipitates the atmosphere. It’s God sent and help break our silence as we exchange romantic smiles, helping to destroy unhappiness caused by Phattu. We find ourselves playing footsie and holding hands at CCD, sea-facing at Chowpatty.

Swagata seductively removed her sandals, holding them in her right hand and forcefully drags me away from the boisterous coffee atmosphere. We cross the maddening traffic as she ran towards the beach, soaking her feet in the sand. We splash our feet in the cold water, holding hands and she leans her head towards me, giving me the expression, ‘I am so desirable.’

She plays with her curls, asking, “Kya karne ka Irada hai (What do you want to do?)”

“Let’s smooch.”

It brought a smile on her face. “Aha! You are in mood and it seems to be the best option in this lusty weather. We cannot do it in the cold water.”

“Yeps! As it is, we cannot sprint to the drug store to buy a pack of Moods condom and come back again to do it in full public glare.”

“Why?” She mischievously quizzes me. “You fear it may affect your endurance by running and comeback. Hey, I have an idea!”

“What?” I ask

“Why don’t you strip in the water? I can’t hold myself, right now and wanna see you naked. Worry not! No one, except me, will see you flaunting your ass..ets a la John Abraham in Dostana. For my eyes only.”

An old man whooshes past us and pretends to relish the cold water, horribly singing, ‘Thande Thande Paani Mein Nahana Chahiye, Gaana Aaye Na Aaye Gana Chahiya (Hindi song, one should bath in cold water, sing a song even if we don’t know singing). It didn’t take us long to figure out that he is a snoopy dirty-kinda-peeping-Tom trying to leer at Swagata and peeping at her bosom. She whispers into my ear, “Let’s teach old man a lesson.” I wink at her.

Let’s start: One, Two, Three, Four. We deck our heads inside the water, gaped for breath and yowled.  We hit the maximum volume as we pushes with all our might the energy level, “Ooh! Aaah! Ooh!! Ahh!” as Swagata faked a moan, almost jeering, “Oh! It’s so good, baby and want more, push push, Ooh!la!la!” I run out of breath, shouting, “Now, wait! I am so tired and ooh! la! La! Now, are you feeling it?” Swagata takes charge, “Ah! Ah! I want more.”

Poor old man! He grew shit scared and cruised his way outside the water with a horrified look on his face. I shout at his direction, “Oh! Dirty uncle! Wait! You have forgotten to pee in the sea.”

We broke into a hoot and ended up, sneezing badly inside the sea water which penetrated our nostrils. Oh! Lord! I feel I was dying in the obsession to teach the schmuck a lesson.

We walked back to CCD and before leaving for home, Swagata dons a serious look, “Tomorrow, I need to discuss something serious with you and we need to deal with it in a mature way.”

I anxiously ask, “What’s it’s all about?”

She is adamant, “Tomorrow. I don’t want to spoil the fun we just had.”

We kissed each other, our lips melting and our tongues swirling its way to heavenly passion.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 18

Day 18: This post is written as part of the prompt, Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 18:

Swagata is pissed off. Face palm seems to be my new avatar and I don’t know where to hide my face. Meet Mr Kabab Mein Haddi, my class mate Pradip aka Phattu. I dunno on what side of the bed I woke up this morning when I met Phattu who was after my life.

Phattu was on my trail and didn’t leave me at all. He clumsily gamboled around me, “Hi bro, where are you going?” The stupid guy that I am told him that I am going to meet my girl-friend. Phattu shamelessly tells, “Chal, dude, I am going to come with you to see your girl-friend.” I rebuked him, “Arre! What will you do there?”

Dumbo insisted, “Arre! Chill! Jan Pehchan karo (Give an introduction). I am not going to steal her right under your nose, though I am desirable. But, I have ethics, you know.”

“Yeah, asshole, I wanna kick you in your crotch,” I wanted to tell him.

This guy is such a pain in the ass and he bored me to death in the rickshaw till we reached Barista at Andheri. I introduced Phattu to Swagata and ordered coffee for the three of us. The chatter box that Swagata is began talking to Phattu.

“So, Pradip do you have a girl friend?”

Pradip flashed his teeth like Dracula, “Nah! I don’t. It’s difficult to find good and homely girls, nowadays.”

Swagata was taken aback and grins, “Oh O-k-a-y.”

This idiot was hell bent to screw my life in a flash of seconds. “Actually, I want a girl who will stay at home and will cook food for me and my parents. I hate to be married to a girl who party, have boy- friend, smoke, drink and work outside. This is not tolerated in my family.”

I whistled and looked around since I lacked the balls to face Swagata at this moment. She sneered at Phattu and was boiling with rage. Thankfully, Mr Boring had to go to Bandra to meet someone and I exuded relief. Lil’ did I know that I will face the rage of my sweet girl-friend turned devil.

Swagata is flabbergasted and asks, “Now where has your brainless sorta friend gone?”

I try to lighten up the mood, “He has gone to Bandra to meet Sandra.”

She chuckles, “Now! This is not funny, you know. All men are the same. Bloody patriarchal mindset and they’ll bag the Oscar if there is one for stupidity and patriarchal ego.”

“Arre! What did I do?”

She cranks up, “As it is, it’s your breed na, you are a bloody man. Same shit mentality. You guys would date or sleep with hot women, wearing mini-skirts and partying hard, drinking and smoking, but when it comes to getting married, you will settle for domesticated ones who will always tom to your parents.”

“Babe, chill,” I touch her hand.

“I dare you,” She angrily brandishes her middle finger and moves her hand away from me.

I open the cigarette box in frustration, removed the flap and lit one stick. “Arre! Why are you taking out your anger on me? It’s not even my fault.”

“Of course! These are the types of perverts you roam around in Mumbai. People like him don’t need a wife but a servant to serve his frail ball,” She fumes.

“So much anger? Let’s go inside, there is AC to cool your heels.”

“Anger? You men must realize that the soft women that we are can turn into Kali (Fierce Hindu Goddess meaning death and destruction) and it takes is flick of seconds to set those bloody, cheap perverts right. Phattu Saala (skulk).”

I burst out laughing.

“Why are you laughing?”

I choke, “Because everyone in college calls Pradip ‘Phattu’. It’s his nickname.”

Finally, Swagata smiles. My cute girl friend is back to her usual self.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 17

Day 17: This post is written for the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story' for the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

CHAPTER 17

The furious sea waves hit the rocks at Marine Drive. We walk, hand in hand, by the sea feeling the outburst of waves and enjoying the rain drops falling on our faces. It’s been three weeks that we first in Mumbai and we stole moments of togetherness, roaming the streets of South Mumbai.

The burst of wind shakes our body, propelling Swagata to hold up tightly to my arms and it brought a smile to my face. She made faces, “Why are you smiling?” I naughtily remarks, “I thank the wind for bringing you closer to me and wish that the fury of the season is invoked every single day.”

“Haha! So Phunny. Don’t come to close for comfort or try to be over romantic, Mister,” She sarcastically says.

“See, who is speaking.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, right,” I emulate her cute facial expression, faking anger and irritation.

She slapped me on my hand.

“Ouch.”

“You stop pretending. You are not hurt.”

“Yeah, you are an artist who is stamping a slap on my hand. How about designing your artistic creation on my lip?”

“Art is not about intimacy and something felt by the aesthetic senses. Haha! dream on. It shall never happen.”

I tease her, “That’s the problem with art people. They think too highly of themselves and, may be, too passionate to draw inspiration. I am your muse and surprised you are looking beyond horizons that will make you sketch designs.”

“You don’t understand the complexity of art on canvas. It’s a vision beyond intimacy. Gosh! Scary what you think of art and your breed will destroy art. Spare me, please,” She folds her hands doing a Namaste.

I draw her towards me and we hold each other, looking into each other’s eyes before passionately kissing in the rain. We are completely drenched and couldn’t care less about the world. We are in love.

We hailed a cab and as the driver zooms past Marine Drive in the pool of water, Swagata rests her head on my shoulder as I gently caress her hand and stroking her lips with a feather lying on the back seat.

In the evening, she sends an sms, “It’s one of the most wonderful evening spent together and the memory of monsoon will stay forever with me. Btw, great news. Looking forward to spend three months with you. Guess what? My internship with the Jehangir Art Gallery has been accepted. Details tomorrow. I am having dinner with uncle and aunty. Love, Xoxo.

I can’t contain my excitement and finally, she is staying longer than her one month stint in Mumbai. It’s the best ever monsoon. Love you Mumbai. I did a jig in the house, singing loudly, ‘Aaj Mausam Bada Beimaan Hai, Bada Shaitaan Hai (It’s a naughty and devilish weather today).

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 16

Day 16: I am linking this post in the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story' as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014

Chapter 16:

The coffee shop, Barista, at Chowpatthy opposite the beach is teeming with the average college crowd and cuddling couples whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears. As I plod my steps, I almost hit a nervous break-down, looking around furtively and walking out to light a cigarette. Smoking helps to beat the stress when I meet someone in anticipation and I can feel my heart beat, ‘Oh! Swagata! What to do? Shake hands, giving a peck on her cheek or just a hi….

The phone is buzzing and Swagata’s number flashed, “Have you reached? I am sitting inside, wearing blue jeans and pink tee.” I scampered my way inside and my heart went amok with excitement when I saw a cute girl, playing with her hair falling on the face and toggling with cellphone. She looks like a dream beautifully weaved like perfect snow and sent on earth to dangerously flirt with the hearts of wandering souls like me. I wonder, ‘Where on earth they make such beautiful woman?”

She saw me and waved, flashing her teeth and I almost stumbled on a chair, tripping my way towards her, taking along a middle aged man, on our way down. The timely reflex saved both of us to crash on the floor. The man sniggers at me as my sorry is met with a forced smile, “That’s okay, young man.”

I take a seat and offer a handshake to her, dying to caress the palm of her flawless skin. What she just did, took me by surprised? She thrusts her slim body over the table to plant a peck on my cheek. “H-e-y,” I stammered. Sensing my nervousness, Swagata pricks the skin on my palm. “Easy,dude. How do I look? ,” She asks with a sensual smile.

I regained my composure, “Aha! Pink. How was your flight?”

“I like to wear pink once-in-a while for a change. Flight was good but tiring. Can’t sleep during flights..in fact, hate them.”

“Hmm!” I am at a loss of words and fidgeting with the menu card. We sat in silence for five long minutes, I am feeling suffocated and she pretends to play with her hair plait. “So,” she says, breaking the ice. “Say something, na. Why so silent?”

We started speaking about our respective lives in Mumbai and Hong Kong, family life, friends, silly jokes and excruciating heat in the city.

“Any girl-friend?,” She asks.

I smile, “I am dating someone and she is sitting right in front of me.”

“Oh! Are we dating? Really?,” She innocently asks.

I blush, “Yeah! Of course.”

We turn our faces away, to avoid seeing into each other’s gaze. I peep at her from the right corner of the eye to steal a moment at her sparkling face.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 15

Day 15: This post is written for the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story' as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

Chapter 15:   

                                            

“Swa… I mean who? Oh! Shit! F*** me..Swagata…U in Mumbai? Why? I mean when?” I stammer.

“I just landed and thought of giving you a call. But, looks like you are sloshed. Your voice is broken….”

“I mean, out of excitement. I didn’t expect a call, so soon.”

“Everything happens so swiftly. I told you na, I love surprising you.”

“Ya! That’s why you didn’t tell me anything,” I try sounding cheerful.

“Kya pata you may just land at the airport to receive me with flowers and chocolates,” She teases me.

“Why would I do that? What makes you think so?”

“Obviously, I know you. I could make out how you were planning to meet me in Mumbai. Finally, I am here. After going through scraps and sms-es, I could decode that I may not be free from a surprise. By the way, Mister have you forgotten what you told me?”

“What?” I became curious.

Images coruscated in my mind during our lengthy conversation past midnight when I almost passed out at Tushar and Tania’s apartment. The latter chided me, “Dude! You are drunk and stop behaving abnormally.” It’s always been like that with me. When I get high on alcohol, I just pick up the phone to buzz Swagata, confessing my love and singing mushy romantic songs.

“Hello! Babe..when you coming to Mumbai..please tell na,” I slurred.

“Are you drunk? Why should I tell you?” She broke into a cackle of laughter.

“Yes! I am drunk on your scent, Baby. Gimme some dash of honey and lime mixed with your beauty,” I suddenly crank up my tone, speaking as if I am bursting into laughter and tears.

“Stop Baby me, will you?”

“Oh! Baby!”

“What? Argghhhh,” She was losing her patience.

“When you come to Mumbai, I will welcome you with drums and flowers at the airport. When are you cominggggggggggg?” I speak-in-a singing tone that would scare Shreya Ghosal to death.

“Arre! Are you mad or what? Uncle and aunty will pick me up and f they see you, they will screw me. You don’t need to know. Now, just shut up.”

“Hello!!! Knock knock, kahan khoye hai Sir-jee,” Swagata ruthlessly breaks the flash back of images that was playing just now.

“No, No, nothing,” I defend myself.

“Going to sleep now..I haven’t been able to sleep during the flight…..listen, will message you, we gotta meet in a day or two. Yeah, I can’t wait..kisses.”

“Love you too, muah muah.”

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 14

Day 14: This post for the novella 'An Orkut Love Story' is written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014. 

Chapter 14:

Swagata is coming to Mumbai! WoW! I tell her, it should make front news on Times of India and the glossies. Arnab would be saying, “When! India Wants to Know!

Madam slams me, telling that I have become a maven of sorts making lame jokes that doesn’t make her laugh. “Your jokes compete with each other in a rat race of sorts so that which one takes the pie for the most horrible tag.”

I dunno whether her home coming should make me happy or sad, the heart is not beating at pulsating rate. “Any time. Take a guess, if you wanna,” she laughs on the phone. I am befuddled and it is sending me into a sort of hibernation after losing battle striving to convince her to announce the big date. I am done with coaxing her and going into a state of hyper activity cum anxiety. Finally, I accept defeat and abandon, after trying all form of tricks in the book-cutting her phone and telling that I am not gonna speak to her ever again.

“Hello! It’s girls who try those tricks. You will not be able to hoodwink me into letting the cat out of the bag. What do you understand when I say it’s a surprise.”

WoW! What a way to surprise someone, I mean not just any Tom, Dick or Harry, but the man she spends her nights with..doesn’t matter if it’s on sms, phone or Orkut. I believe I am her boyfriend. Weird surprise. I am so done with the excitement and let her come when she feels like. “After all, you are not the Queen of England?, I tell her.

“And, you are Prince Harry.”

“Ok, if you don’t wanna. Kaun rok raha hai (Who is stopping you?). As it is Mumbai doesn’t belong to my Dad or forefathers.

“O-K-A-Y!!! You are pissed off…listen! I will come anytime during this month. Surpriseeeee,” She blushes as if reciting some poem.

“Ok! That I got it… the surprise thingy.”

I am getting addicted to the FIFA Game on computer and been deprived of sleep for the past three weeks,  furiously hitting on the key board to score goals. The addiction has been a boon: I am in a state of decoupling with Swagata and enjoying my personal space, playing games. I have shunned lovey-dovey sms-es, flirting on phone and posting scraps on each other’s Orkut wall.

The phone is buzzing and 10 missed calls are flashed from an unknown Mumbai number. I pick it up and an unknown female voice coyly says, “Hi.” I gently reply, “May I know whose that?”

“What a loser you are? Swagata!!! I’m in the city.”