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