An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 18

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

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.
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