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.”

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 13

Day 13: This post is written as part of the novella, 'An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 13' for the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

Chapter 13:

“So you think you can win my heart by sending Paulo Coelho’s quotes?” Swagata asks.

“Hmm! When someone has already given me her pink shaped heart, I’ll just sit and hold her heart in my hand,” I flirt.

“Yuck!!!! Pink shaped heart, that’s so cheesy, dude, think of a better line. Be more creative with your kiddish pick-up lines, One, Four, Three and all,” She sounds horrified.

“Waise bhi! Someone sent me ‘Brida’ all the way from Hong Kong. What do I make of it?” I quiz her.

She tries to change the conversation, “Ok, enough of quotes. I am demanding a creative and romantic proposal that will charm me.”

I try to act funny, “Girls are made that way only. What??? You expect me to ask you on phone?”

“Yeah, you better do that.”

“Hmm. There is a cute girl whose picture I once saw on Orkut and she tormented me to death, feeling there is a connection between us. I happily hummed mushy songs by the beach and on the highways. People thought I escaped from the mental asylum. Every day, she walks into my dreams to give me sleepless night, coyly whispers sweet nothings in my ears. I realize it’s not a dream when she makes cute faces on scraps, playing crush games, teases and seduces me on phone. I am longing to hold her in my arms, cuddling and kissing her. Please tell her how much I feel for her.”

“Not bad, Mr Karan. I’ll see if I have time to tell her. You are going a bit too fast on phone, cuddling, kissing and all. She hopes that you will be as brave and daring when they meet in Amchi Mumbai.”

“So, she wanna puts me to test?”

“I think she will and already has..to make you propose her in front of every ne. That’s your punishment for coming up with lame pick-up lines, On, Four, Three.”

“Kiss her lips for me.”

“Naughty boy.”

Swagata smooches the phone.

“Happy?”

“I want more…I am getting wild right now.”

“Go to hell.”

She hangs up. 

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 12

Today is Day 12 for the novella 'An Orkut Love Story': This post is written as part of  Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

Chapter 12

I couldn’t sleep throughout the night and whiling my time away burning the midnight oil playing the game of flame.

Karan

Swagata

Flame= marriage.

I leaped with joy, jumping on the bed to do a somersault of sort that the bed almost cracked. Finally, I dozed off at 6 a.m, relieved that sleep is slowly engulfing me in its arms. I am woken up by the screeching bell which enraged me. It seems the universe is conspiring to give me a headache and deprive me of my baby sleep. I jumped out of the bed to open the door, ready to pounce on the moron who was hell bent to destroy my peace.

A short fellow sporting a Hitler type moustache and wearing Khaki is smiling at me. “Parcel Sir, sign Kijiye (A parcel for you, please sign). I am curious and wondering who would send me a parcel, thinking must be some prank of my old chums. I borrow the post man’s Reynold pen to sign my name.

I hastily open the thick envelope to find myself holding a book, ‘Brida’ Paulo Coelho, sent across the seas all the way from Hong Kong.  I wonder, ‘Oh! Brida is her way of surprising me. I flip open the first page and my eyes is is struck by a note written in pink. “Hope Brida will stay with you forever. It will remind you of me at every moment in life. We may not be always together but I want to tell you that every time I read your Orkut scrap, it makes me smile and my heart goes dhak dhak (my heart beats faster). Our relationship is beautiful and pray it blooms like the red rose…will meet in Mumbai soon.”

‘Love, hugs and kisses..Xoxo Swagata.’

I send her an sms, “1 4 3….Thank you for the surprise...” Swagata replies with a smiley, “Ya! Brida is the surprise you got it..btw, what the numerical supposed to mean?”

“Depends what you make of it.”

“In case, you are proposing, it’s a very lame way of doing since it was a stupid game we played in school.”

Swagata didn’t reply back and I waited for an hour but still there was no sign of her. Was she pissed off with the 1, 4, 3 which means I Love You. I rack my brain to wake up the genius in me. Come on! Be creative. Pull up a master piece, I tell myself.

I type, “3 reasons a girl stops texting back

1.      You said something that pissed her off.

2.      You started to get boring.

3.      You just fell asleep.

Her message flashes in no time with a smile and a “muah. May be all three of them! By the way, what were you doing all this time? Hitting your head with a bottle of alcohol to crack Da Vinci Code.”

I text back, “I was listening to a soft and romantic song.”

“Which one?”

“I can’t stop loving you….,” I hastily put the CD in the MP3 at high decibel level.

“Aha! No need to impress me and trying to act romantic, lover boy. I still wanna know what One, Four, Three means and it’s in your interest not to play game with me.

I flip through the pages of The Alchemist, struggling to keep the handset stuck between my right cheek and ear, desperately hunting for quotes.  Finally, I find it. “One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.”

“That’s it?”

“This is what we call love. When you are loved, you can do anything in creation. When you are loved, there's no need at all to understand what's happening, because everything happens within you.” 

“Well, that’s your definition of love?” Are you scared to open your heart, dude?”

Chapter 11: An Orkut Love Story

Day 11: Today's post is written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014. 

                        

CHAPTER 11

The conversations were getting too much intimate and personal which raised glares of our common friends, making it a scrap fest that we are seeing each other. It was time to give Orkut a break and shift to Yahoo Chat and sms-es for privacy.

We wanted to give each other space and to be far away from preening eyes. After all, what if things didn’t work out between us? It’s better to feel safe than sorry. We spent hours on phone, calling each, exchanging sms-es for long hours which depleted our phone balance. Long distance calls and love affair is proving to be expensive, whittling down money. But, love is a costly affair which is totally worth it, at least, in our case.

It’s Sunday, past midnight when Swagata calls. “What’s up with you? No party sharty nothing..no Saturday Night Fever, my sunny boy,” She flirted shamelessly.

“No! What party, yaar. Sitting at home and waiting for your call.”

“Aha! So cute. So lover boy is anxiously waiting to hear my sexy voice. Tell na,?”

“I just finished reading a huge portion of The Alchemist and a handful number of pages remaining.”

She bombards me with questions. “What have you learned so far? Do you think our quest for life’s ends with our first love or by fulfilling our material needs?”

“Hmm! You got me, here. Well, I never thought about all these things and guess, someone keeps searching for the ultimate end in life. I wonder why certain things like love and wealth keep eluding us. The book made me wonder why we keep searching for love despite we suffer heart break and vow never to love again.”

She breaks into peals of laughter. “Ab aa gaya line pe tu. You are on the right track, my boy. But, life is so complex, na. For instance, Santiago is anxious about life but he never stops walking miles, battered by injury and bruises to seek the ultimate truth. There is a super power that draws him towards the never-ending journey of life and may be, beyond.”

I intervene, “What do you mean? He will never find light at the end of the tunnel and for how long will he keep searching?

“Well, that’s what life is all about. We never cease searching and after all, we are all seekers in life. Perhaps, we don’t reflect enough on the small things that defines the purpose of existence. Why things   don’t work out for us? In fact, there is a bigger purpose behind every single defeat so that we discover bigger things for our own growth as human beings,” She argues.

I am caught in a maelstrom and wonder whether there is a dead end to life or there is life after death where we keep searching for the light or the shining piece of gold that would make us rich overnight.

“I know what you are thinking but will not spoil the fun or alter the way you are viewing things. First, finish the book and then, I will tell. By the way, there is a surprise….”

“What surprise?”, I am hyper ventilating.

Be patient. I am not telling anything. First finish the book and stop being hyper. Let things flow at its own pace and stop worrying. Bye for now and kisses,” She abruptly hangs up.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter Ten

Day 10: Linking this post to Chapter Ten of my novella 'An Orkut Love Story' to Ultimate Blog Challenge.

Chapter Ten

Kahan Gaye, Mister? Looks like you’ve been abducted by the hot Mumbai chicks ….where are you? You have f******* disappear…Are you Mister India? Argggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am greeted by some ten dozen scraps by Miss Swagata, joining the handful of jerks I call friends who almost reported me missing with Mumbai police. Only my posters plastered over the city reporting me, MISSING, would complete my so-called disappearance in maximum city. How I wish! It would’ve made me famous and saving me the pain of trying my luck by knocking the factory of Ram Gopal Verma to cast me in his next flick.

“Oh! I see someone is missing me on Orkut. What is this feeling called?,” I flirt.

 “Missing you!! Hello! I thought you were lost somewhere.I hope you are not thinking I am in love with you. Don’t get wrong idea, Mister. Waise bhi, I am not in love with you..just wondering.

It is time to catch her off guard. I write, “One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.” 

“What does that mean?” Swagata asks. “Are you trying to say….?”

“I am not saying anything….what are you thinking?,” I strive to make her bite the bait.

She feigns ignorance, “Keep trying Mister..You’ll find love but love is no game and my heart is not poetry …in case you hoping, why should I love you.”

I am in no mood to let her over power me by seductively dabbling with words. I know she’s good at getting away with things like that. How I spent my time reading a book just for her sake. It’s my moment to go fishing.

“So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you…. When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too.” 

“Got it?,” I confidently ask. There is no response and deeply inside, I am savoring the small, sweet victory. It tastes like mouth-watering gulab jamun.

Like a war pilot, I bombard her all over the place with the missiles coz it’s time to unfold my trump card.

 “Kya re, Swagata. The biggest literary lover has forgotten her own mantra…ab bolti bandh ho gayi (   You’ve gone into silent mode). And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” 

The scrap flashes like police siren, “Haha! Someone is reading Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist. Good boy. You should always listen to what I say and you’ll see what I’ll make you discover..you are on the right path, Bacche…”

“Because of you..I skipped lectures..see how much I care for  you..I was lost in Alchemist coz someone said it was a shame not reading it…love can do strange things to people….”

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 9

Today is Day 9 of Ultimate Blog Challenge, July 2014. I am linking Chapter Nine of my novella 'An Orkut Love Story' to the challenge.

Chapter 9:

I’ve been skipping college for the past few days to whine days and evenings at Barista, Dadar near Shivaji Park. Nopes! I am not into some chick missions, desperately hunting for a date or asking someone out considering the bevy of superhot chicks lining up for coffee, dating , mating. I don’t play hunter anymore.

Sitting like a fairly good boy, which by the way I am not, I order a hot cappuccino and voraciously reading Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist. After all, I gotta impress someone on the virtual world with my knowledge of the world of Coelho, quotes and discussion on the path of a seeker.

I gulped three cups of Capuccino, turning pages to run the race against time. After all, I have to impress Swagata with my knowledge of an Alchemist’s life. Armed with pen, I am underlying every single quote I come across and making notes on a white sheet of paper, like a scholar, dissecting a best-selling novel. Life is such an irony. In my whole life, I’ve never studied for an exam like that, reflecting about things that may not matter for a happy-go-lucky guy like me.

Never thought that a woman would make me go extra miles to read, turn pages and come back to make sense of paragraphs, pages and chapters. I should do my Ph.d on Alchemist if I ever reach this stage in my life. Now! I am getting all kind of crazy ideas of weaving a novel about love, online chat and Orkut. Swagata has been successful where my parents failed, whipping my ass with love and emotions, to make me study. Thankfully, it’s a novel and not some stupid academic textbooks.

This is getting weird. I am finding myself getting drawn into this novel and suffering from mental agony and withdrawal symptom. I am not answering phone calls and frantic messages, asking, whether I’ve been kidnapped by some underworld goons in Mumbai. For the past 48 hours, Orkut ceased to exist for me and suddenly I have a new life revolving around book, coffee and, of course, Swagata. I am doing this for whom? Am I in love? Or, is this a passing phase in life, getting attracted to someone I will meet soon? First, I gotta impress her and I am super confident of winning Swagata’s heart after lapping up 150 pages in two days.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 8

Today is Day 8: I am linking this post to Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

Chapter 8

“So, tell me, you have crushes on how many girls and do you go about declaring your flame on every single, hot chick you meet?”, She asks.

I am befuddled at such a question falling from the sky out of the blue. “Is she a mind reader or what?” I wonder.

I send a reply, “Huh! What has got into you? I don’t go about having crush on every woman I meet. If there are 1000 females in my college, I don’t make a declaration of love. Main aadmi hoon haathi nahin (I am human and not an elephant).”

“Hahaha! I am giggling. Mister, don’t act smarty pants with me coz I have discovered your secret,” She scares me.

I wanted to shout. “What secret, yaa?,” I ask.

“You acting itna innocent, na. You spend your time, toggling with the crush games on Orkut, declaring flames to girls by clicking the small heart icon. I am telling you, sambhal kal rehna (Be cautious) coz my spies are keeping a close watch on you.” Now, she is playing the games quite expertly.

I mean, I know, I am playing this silly game on Orkut to whine my time. I discovered this fun stuff by accident and someone likes someone, just click on the crush and the girls will rack their brains to know who are interested in them. But, Orkut, guarantees privacy to users and there is no way one can know about it. I feign ignorance and ask, “How you know about that?”

She sends me a scrap, “My detectives are all over the place. You are being watched.”

Tube light moment strikes. I’m in for the game and roars with excitement. “This means that you have a crush on me and why don’t you accept that your tiny heart has left you, travelling across seas and oceans to land in my hand in Mumbai.”

“Wah! Wah!” She scraps back, “Stop acting smart because you are caught, Mister. Who else are the other girls, besides me?”

“Bcoz..Madam…When you crush someone, it runs anonymous and when the other person responds, you are notified. Am I right?,” I press the trigger.

She didn’t reply instantly and, after a while, sends, “I bet you haven’t still read The Alchemist?”

I corner her, “And, I bet you diverting attention. Accept you click on me as your crush?”

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

What? Am I suffering from color blues??? I am prancing around in the cyber café when some South Mumbai (SoBo) girls in mini-skirts left their computer to shake a leg with me. What I get from hip chicks from Jai Hind College is a peck on my cheek with a ‘Cho chweet.’

The heart is playing havoc with the mind, sending me in a dream to see messages of love painted all over the town. Now, wait, am I making illusion or is the scrap for real, written and sent from Hong Kong to Mumbai? I click on Swagata’s profile, read her scrap and click ‘back’ on the mouse to read mine.

Yay! It’s a miracle. Swagata sent this message when I logged off and forgot to check it out. “Miss ya..kisses for the night.” Aha! She is missing me and my love story is taking off, finally.

I send, “So, you missed me during the night?”

She naughtily scraps back, “Were you kissing my profile pic?”

“May be,” I say.

“What may be..arggggg!” She shouted back. “Don’t play games. You are not allowed to cheat me,” She sends a smiley.

I beam with joy. “Thanks for telling me. We are dating.” That headline news that should appear on the front page of TOI.”

“Shut up, Mister. The joke is lame,” She tells.

“Acha suno. Have you started reading The Alchemist,” She asks.

“Nopes, not yet. Time nahin mila (I didn’t have time),” I defend myself.

“What do you do all day, except from chatting and flirting with me,” She non-chalantly asks.

“It’s just that I think about you all day. Thinking of making love to your luscious body,” I flirted.

“You are so sexual,” She complains.

I keep my mouth shut.

Swagata sends another scrap, “Don’t get over excited. We haven’t met yet and control your body senses cum orgasm. Be patient, my love.”

It’s getting hotter and hotter. It’s time to strike when the iron is hot. “Well, it proves one thing, you are in love with me,” I trouble her.

“Oho! Someone is getting romantic. I am just doing time pass with me. Hey! Suno! I gotta rush to confirm Mumbai tickets and Dad will be waiting for me. Read ‘The Alchemist’ and till you don’t, don’t show me your face,” She tries to divert attention.

“See ya, soon,” She sends with a wink.

Chalo! I gotta read Mr Coelho and sweep her off the feet with my knowledge of literature. Gosh! What one has to do in love? And, they say love is such a beautiful feeling.

Today is Day Seven: I am linking this post, 'Chapter Seven: An Orkut Love Story' to Ultimate Blog Challenge July 2014.

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter Six

Today is Day Six. I am linking chapter six of the e-novella, 'An Orkut Love Story.' to  Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

Chapter Six

“Kuch toh bol..anything na? (Say something na?),” Swagata greets me.

Kya baaki rehegaya (What’s there to speak about?,” I put on a sullen act/

“Abe! Tu Amitabh Bachchan ke fan hai….angry young man? Is your life over and hell bent to take revenge on me? Arre!! Sorry yaar, please, please,” She pleads with a smiley, J

“Hmm! Are you playing Kaun Banega Crorepathi with me?,” I lighten up.

“You have three options, send me a nice gentlemanly scrap, accept my friendship or sing a song,” She playfully says.

“Well, in that case, I’ll choose all three of them.”

Swagata calls me a good boy. Wait! I made the shift from bad to good boy in her heart. I wonder whether she’s the incarnation of the monsoon and, as it is, no one has been able to gauge the mood of women, who can turn into Phoolan Devi (Bandit Queen) and the girl-next-door in no time.

“What are you doing?,” She asks.

“Nothing much, re. Guess I’ll pick up a book at my friends’ apartment in Parel.”

“Which one? ,” She eagerly asks.

“Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist”

“What a shame?, ” She remarks.

“Huh?”

“Dude! It’s a fab book and it seems you just woke up from the dead. The Alchemist is a treasure, a gem that you should have read, ages ago. Better late than never,” she hurls her wisdom at me.

“Hmm! yeah, yeah. I know I am speaking to a fine and cultured intellectual ahead of her times. Hong Kong must be thanking their stars for having you to spread your cup of knowledge,” I tease her.

She sends a scrap, telling, “I am feeling flattered at such words of praise.”

“Kya scene hai aaj,” I ask.

“Koi bhi scene nahin. I gotta catch up with some friends in the city at the café, then, meet Mom and Dad. I may plan a visit to my cousins’ place in Mumbai, very soon.”

I can’t contain my excitement and overjoyed that finally I’ll get to meet her.

She scraps, “Don’t be so happy.” Swagata is speaking as if she can see me jumping around.

“Hey, gotta go,” I write.

“Then go, who is stopping you,” she tries to rile me.

“Yeah! I’m going and you sit, biting your nails,” I reply back.

“Why should I sit, nursing my wounds? Okay! Go. Let me know how you find The Alchemist,” She signs off.

“Miss ya..kisses for the night.”

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 5

Today is Day Five. This post is written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014.

Chapter Five

The headlines on Times of India read, ‘Mumbai boy kidnapped and murdered, Orkut links.’ As I am reading the story, a chill grips my body and I stand paralyzed for few minutes.’ I mean, some people befriended young Adnan through Orkut and according to TOI report, he was allegedly kidnapped for ransom and they killed him.

I am aghast at such inhuman act where the social networking site is being misused. I wonder, “I am chatting with someone online, nurturing friendship despite we are separated by the sea and oceans. Now, does it make us predators or victims?” Silly thoughts, I chide myself.

What does one do on a boring Sunday? Lazing around in the hostel, sipping tea and munching Bourbon biscuits! I walk to the cyber café and log on Orkut to see a scrap linking to the web page of TOI. “Oh! No! Not again. I’ve read this horrifying story, narrating the murder of young Adnan. “Have you read?”, she persistently asks.

I am getting irritated now in the manner and accusatory tone, alluding that I may be a potential criminal in her eyes. I furiously scrap, ‘TOI is delivered at my door step first thing in the m’nin…”

“Oh! I didn’t know you get TOI in your house..,” she playfully remarks.

I shot back, “What to do? Not everyone is lucky to read TOI online.”

Swagata changes the conversation and veers to the ‘Orkut’ kidnapping and murder case, “I feel so sad, yaa..The online world is so dangerous and you may not know that you are chatting and exchanging scraps with vultures.”

Excuse me! Now wait! Did I read properly? Did the person smiling behind the angelic smile just called, termed and brandished me as a vulture, hiding behind a computer screen? I mean, that’s ridiculous just because someone has been kidnapped and killed.

I am roaring like a wounded tiger and type, “You are freaking out and have no right to treat every single person you meet as a potential criminal, sicko or rapist.”

She didn’t reply back instantly and must be racking her brain what to scrap. Bundle of scraps flowing, one after the other: “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you..making a general observation on the ugly world…please try to understand. I feel we are rushing too much into friendship… let’s not exchange e-mails or phone numbers…let’s go easy and get to know each other properly.

I reply back, “Your wish..it’s not that I am wasting money in cyber for hours waiting to exchange communications with you.”

I log off and dash out of the café. What a screwy day!!!

An orkut Love Story: Chapter Four

Day Four: Chapter Four is written as part of Ultimate Blog Challenge July 2014 for the mini novella, An Orkut Love Story.

Chapter four

“Abhi abhi mile hai, dosti door ki baat hai.”

 The words woven like images coruscate on the lap top screen. I became blank for a second, fidgeting with the key pad, feeling rejected and my crush story going kaput before it started. I stare at the screen and don’t bat an eye lid. Wait! I read it ten times to be sure that I am not being rejected by a beautiful woman. I can’t help it! I am feeling bad and mushy songs are already playing in my mind. I am in no mood to become a modern Devdas, getting high on my favorite whisky brand, Imperial Blue and drowning my sorrow, listening to Tanhayee..dil ke raaste pe thokhar mein khayee… Jiye to Jiye Kaise. I am feeling lousy right now.

Upar wale ne Husn diya toh nakra dikhana zaroori hai (God has bestowed beauty on you and you must show attitude…I type. I am swirling in the air and traveling the moon. I already downed three pegs of Whisky and they are playing havoc, making my fingers and thoughts running wild. It’s not me but the drunken soul, sending scraps at length to someone I just met online.

“Aha, someone is feeling romantic now…why should I trust you? We don’t know each other,” I read the scrap.

Regaining my sense, I type back, “I am not saying anything.

She replies at the same time, “Why I am feeling that I should give you a chance?”

“I dunno..May be two innocent hearts are speaking,” I say.

“Aha, you are speaking language of the heart! WoW! It’s incredible that we typed at the same time..aap mood mein hai,” She sends a smiley.

I ponder, ‘Now, should I take it as an affirmative reply?’ She wanna give me a chance, perhaps, to prove my worth to her as her shining armor. The language of the heart is fickle and emotions are trickling down the spine. I feel like dancing.

Suddenly, it started raining heavily outside and memories of my ex-es flash back to the mind. Emotions are complex and how easy we fall in and out of love? There are certain things that are beyond our control and I feel helpless what impact an online picture did to me.

Silent mode!!! I am praying for a miracle, like the Mumbai rain, that she lands up in Mumbai right now. It’s been an hour now and the rain doesn’t seem to stop and may be, it has some power on Swagata. She must be some moody creature, a bit like the rain, splashing on the city when they feel like.

A bright, shiny cover brings my eyes to a halt and, somehow, the book lying on the table caught my attention, ‘The alchemist’ by Paulo Coelho. There is something about it and feel compelled to sacrifice Orkut and Swagata for the book. I turn the pages and stumble upon page 22 when something struck me like lightning. “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

An Orkut Love Story: Chapter Three

The post, Chapter Three, is written on Day three as part of Ultimate Blog Challenge July 2014.

Chapter 3

We woke up almost at noon inside Kushal and Tanya’s, road-facing apartment at Parel and grabbed coffee, sitting on the balcony. I am enjoying the highway view from the balcony and my eyes are fixed on the high way, watching the blue-and-yellow cabs, BEST buses and vehicles zooming, amid, the blaringly loud horns.

Kushal is excited to see the picture of Swagata on Orkut and convinces me in no time to log in, not before I add him and Tanya. Her name flashes on the lap top with a scrap. ‘WoW’, I almost jump with joy and shrieking, ‘Swagata has accepted your request…Swagata wrote on your scrap.’ I turn towards Kushal to smile sheepishly. “Hi, do we know each other?, ” she wrote.

Hmm! What to write?,’ I ask. I start typing, “Hey..thanks for accepting my friend request and almost hit the send button when Kushal stopped me. “Dude! It is so lame and boring. Don’t!”

I fidget on the key board to ask, “What do you want me to write?”

“Reply,” Tanya corrected me from behind. “She asked a question.”

Both Tushar and I are at a loss of words, our self-claimed gentlemanly charm failed us big time. The lady came to the rescue and starts typing, then deleting, lighting a cigarette in between, “F***’, I dunno why I am getting into the whole business of flirting with a woman. For sure, I am not lesbian.”

We break into splinter of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, both of you laugh but your creative battery is swirling and hanging in the air like balloons,” She chides us.

She takes a deep drag and start typing, “Nopes…we don’t know each other. But, we can get to know each other..as it is when the world was created, no one knew each other but hearts brought people together. Let’s get to know each other….what say?”

Swagata replies, “Hmm! Mr Philosopher, what do you do in life and where you are from?”

Tanya types, “Master’ student in Mumbai and you?”

Sapnon ki Rani scraps back, “A true blue Mumbai girl, living in HK and studying art. I come to Mumbai on and off.”

Over to you, Tanya hands me the lap top as she moves away from me. ‘What to scrap now?, I wonder. Should I or should I not? Finally, I type, “Swagata, niceee name…unique and appealing.”

“Thank you,” she types as fast as the scrap reaches her.

Ok! I decide to ask, no matter what it’ll take. “Hey! Drop me your phone number, na and let’s be friends, getting to know each other.

Five minutes, ten minutes…no scrap. Finally, the scrap flashes on the screen, “Abhi abhi mile hai, dosti door ki baat hai (We just met, friendship is faraway).

Chapter 2: An Orkut Love Story

This post-cum-chapter on Day Two is written as part of the  UBC July 2014. Hope you enjoy reading it:)



CHAPTER 2

I forked up almost 500 bucks for eight hours of surfing, logging on and off Orkut during the past few days. There is no sign of Swagata and I am feeling depressed, cursing my luck.

It’s getting absurd to feel for an estranged kinda crush living in another country, surrounded by the sea and whom I’ve never met and will probably never ever in my life. I can’t help feeling there is something about her and the heart is already doing somersault. Right now, I am incomplete and life is never the same without her. Thank you, Orkut.

“Better to stay off Orkut, buddy,” I try to reason. I am trying to delete the vivid and charming face of Swagata from the mind and spent the days, roaming around at Café Mondegar and SFX Bar in Colaba, drinking beer, with my almost depleted pocket money sent from home. It’s Saturday and I bond with Kushal and his girl-friend, Tanvi, wearing Red Jersey and cheering for Manchester United at SFX. As huge Man U fans, we are bonding over beer.

Tanvi asks, “So any girl-friend?”

“Nopes…actually, I like someone on Orkut,” I hesitatingly said.

“Tell more, bro,” Kushal beams with excitement.

I feel flustered and strange, sharing the unusual one sided romance with new stranger-friends I met a while ago. “Actually, we don’t know each other but saw her profile on Orkut. I feel, I am falling for her, she is from Mumbai but shifted base to Hong Kong,” I let off.

Tanya laughs, “Dude! Get a life. Seriously! How can you fall for someone you’ve never met and get upset about the whole thing? I mean, why should she add you? Are you Anil Ambani, Abhishek Bachchan or the Prince of Wales, or what? I am sorry, I am just being frank.”

Tushar intervenes, “Take light, man. If you want to, I can introduce you to the hot females in my office. Take a chill pill Chillax” He pours more beer in my glass and winks, “Try to be friend with Swagata and who knows, she might respond! But, don’t build castles in the air about someone you’ve never met. If it happens, let it be or else there are plenty of fish in the sea. We’ll go fishing”

Tania seems serious and sneers at her boy-friend. “I am shocked, to say the least. How many hot chicks you know in your office? Many fishes in the sea…this is so misogynist, dude..anyways,” she sounds offended.

Tushar’s face grows white. Tania ignores him and held me by the shoulder to ask, “Listen dude! She needs to get out of your system and you are staying with us at our Parel House for the week end. Hey cheer up! We’ll catch a glimpse of your Swagata during the Sunday Brunch on your new ‘Orkut’ life.” She hugs me.

To be continued…..

An Orkut Love Story

This post is written as part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014 where a new post shall be written on every day through the month of July 2014.I am writing a novella with Orkut who will reach a dead end on September and I present the first chapter. Thirty One chapters, thirty one blog posts and it's my first participation.

An Orkut Love Story

Chapter 1

I am fuming and spewing cuss words as I sit in the cramped cyber café at Dadar. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed where every single thing is turning to horrible. The morning started where I had a spat with a friend, almost coming to hands with the rickshaw walla, and being stuck in the crazy Mumbai traffic. Mom just called and she was giving me lecture on how I am not serious and undisciplined. I snapped at her and cut the phone right on her nose.

On top of that, this old computer has sticky keys and the net connection is horribly slow. After trying and hitting the key board with force, the Yahoo account seems to open. One message: Your friend Samantha is on Orkut and you are invited to join thousand followers. Follow the link.

I almost shouted, ‘What the f*** is that?’ Yet, another marketing strategy to make my life hell with those tele marketing agents..what’s wrong with them?’ They are not done with me, on phone, beating the hell outta my life and now the e-mail.’ Gosh! I have a life and please live and let me live. Arggghhhhhh! Somebody please kill me.

The curious me, somehow, click on  www.orkut.com to register. Thank God! It’s no marketing or advertisers hoodwinking me to buy their products. I have one friend, Samantha. I am clueless what it’s all about. I dabbled with the whole Orkut and in nano seconds, it is becoming an addiction as I slowly move over worries of the day. Strange, how computer and net can change our lives, I wonder. I signal to the cyber staff that I am staying for another hour.

It sounds kinda cool, inviting people all over and start hitting send button to the whole world on my mail list, ‘Join me on Orkut.’ I hit the push button and send 20 invites at one go. I stumble upon a profile, ‘Born in Mumbai and working in Hong Kong..dreamer, princess, sapnon ki raani.’ I click on her profile picture and am bowled by her beauty, long tresses of hair and smile which is stuck in my memory. I am already dancing, clicking on her beautiful face, every now and then. I hit send to Swagata. That’s her name and her image keeps flashing, sending me in a tizzy. I hit send. ‘Your request has been sent to Swagata.’

I beam with joy. I took the rickshaw to Bandra Bandstand, walking past Mannat, the house of superstar Shah Rukh Khan and happily trolling some Hindi film songs. The heart is happy, imagining walking hand in hand with Swagata, sitting by the sea rocks as water is splashed on our faces. I wonder what an internet crush can do to my mind and turn a bad day into an awesome one.

I order a Capuccino coffee at Barista and lit a cigarette, surrounded by the hot and happening Bandra crowd. Somehow, I am praying that Swagata accept the friend request of her stranger lover. I shall visit the cyber café tomorrow to check my new ‘love life’ on Orkut.

Orkut: A love affair to remember

It was the days of yore, the first tryst and love affair with social networking where we discovered a life beyond the routine where being a celebrity was just a click away from the finger tips. The world of scraps, photos and having a big party online. We jettisoned to the charm of the online world, beyond e-mails and splashing our pictures all over, starting communities and commenting on friends' profiles was the real icing on the cake.

That's how my scrapbook looks.

An ongoing romance and love affair engulfing passion as we went on a journey of self discovery.

Sweet nothings and gentle stroke touching the heart.

We met and fall in love,

swaying to your charm,

old chum.

It's called Orkut, our old chum, which we may have lost touch with, who stormed its way in our life way before we knew something called Facebook or the 140-lines Twitter and the professional network, linkedin. True. Hi5 happened before that but nothing like Orkut, zooming in our lives like a dream. Writing the first scrap on someone's wall and getting an instant reply, we almost jumped with excitement.

Joined in 2006 and remained active, having a blast every single day where checking the scrap was a must, till 2009. Not a long lasting love but we made an affair totally worth it, relishing every nano second of our life that zoomed in front of our eyes. Orkut was a gentle but subtle reminder that we can indulge in balderdash with pals for hours.

Getting our first testimonial was like telling the world, 'Move over celebs coz we are one', a real cherry on cake that tasted sweet and awesome. We started groups, inviting pals and college mates to join us. It was like falling in love for the first time, our first sex escapade, bearing an uncanny ressemblence to the joy of turning 18. An era filled with adventure, spelling magic in our lives, like kids whose eyes beamed with pride and excitement. Suddenly, we had a life in the world of computers and net. We became net savvy and glamorous. 

The first tryst where we had a date with destiny and we can claim to be the whizzkids who experienced the joy of social networking in the form of Orkut. The Facebook kids came much later coz we were the first one to arrive. Remember, we are 90s kids who rocked the scene quite timelessly in 2000s as we sashayed into the world of social networking. We were all over the place as the brand ambassadors of Orkut with a bang. We rocked like crazy in this roller-coaster ride.

My Orkut home page

We called it communities not likes or groups, like in the over rated Facebook which I am part of and cannot live without, like zillions across the world. It was our gateway to opportunity and visibility. A feeling of overwhelmed joy that has been lost in translation over the years. Yeah! I never had a Gmail id at that time and was informed that I could sign in with my Yahoo! India Id and as you signed, you landed in the community. A feeling where you could thump your chest victoriously and adrenaline pumping down the spine, eagerly waiting to explore the whole Orkut business. After all, what's there in a scrap?! It didn't cost a dime or energy to jot one liners or for that matter, few words to catch up with friends, set a date or dropping a message if the other person went incommunicado on phone. It was a must and Orkut was our social media revolution. I remember someone telling me about the death of a friend on Orkut, owing to the fact that I lost my first ever smart phone. It was the days of yore in Mumbai where you would surf for one hour in Orkut for just 15 buck in SoBo (South Mumbai). Yeah, I remember sitting at the cafe inside Stadium Restaurant at Churchgate. 

Dashing straight out of the train after 40 minutes tiring bus and train ride at Santacruz, my steps took me to the Cyber Cafe to check out how the online community, We the People, were faring. An adventure that gonna end in September and in the whole hullabaloo of the World Cup, people seems to forget about our first love.
First love are always special to us where we made our first online friends, soul we've never met or will never, most probably. Orkut never made healthy flirting so easy, falling prey to gentlemanly and ladies' charm , making friends online never been so smooth. Some met on a date, fell in love on Orkut and got hitched. We are thankful for our long neglected friend, Orkut, that entered our lives like the fluttering breeze and gentle wind that stroke the heart.

Never say good bye, buddy.

The heart knows no distance,

feelings may be best kept inside us as we cherished the moments of life.
The end of an era, the golden age.

Matters of the heart shall not melt,

As you doff your heart, we make memories.

After all, first love is always special.

We were shocked and dismayed yesterday when Google announced the closing of Orkut. Perhaps, we took our neglected friend that gave character and shade to our lives, for granted. Orkut will be closed on September 30 and I intend to scribble in my digital scrap book as an ode to the golden days where we discovered social networking. Mind you! I'll transfer my profile pics, testi and scraps on the computer.

Till then, good friend, stay cool and let's enjoy the moments of love and longing. We shall meet another day till destiny brings us together.

With Love
Vishal

The new face of Sanskari mouth Condom

The condom makers are training their radar for a brand ambassador, boasting a unique appeal, for their newly minted elastic condom. thinly designed like balloons. Move over Ranbir Kapoor. Gone are the days when Deepika would have gifted his ex beau a pack of condoms to do the obvious.

Image credit: Google

See! The newly designed condom is very Sanskari in mind and soul. It's use? Fully functional to be inserted in the mouth, similar to water balloons to blow like trumpets during Shehnai and mind you, on the lines of breath alcohol test, pumping with morality. Who better than BJP good doctor and medically sane, Dr Harsh Vardhan posing as its brand ambassador? The doc fits the bill of embracing his new role as brand ambassador with his endearing and proven versatile talent of foot-in-the-mouth. You wanna have sex for fun or procreating? The new brand ambassador of the mouth condom will come on TV with an exclusive to be most viewed ad, telling, abstain from sex and put the balloon, oops, condom, in your mouth. Humana Bharat Humana sanskar, shuddh desi sanskar ab iss ka prachar kiijiye aur mann ka anand lijiye.

See, the new condom is already creating ripple of waves on the market much before it is being manufactured on a mass scale. Our new politician turned brand ambassador shot to fame claim that sex is immoral and sex education should be banned. An ejaculation given new twist and shape, read, pure mind masturbation for the purpose of wiping out crudity and vulgarity polluting our unblemished Indian culture.

AB bechare Alok Nath kya karenge? Hawan karenge hawan karenge, aur kya! Our original poster boy of sanskar has competition now from the Doc Harsh Vardhan. Wah kya kya seekhate hai doc in your medical school? Now with such a learned doc, Aids will be banned from every nook and corner of the world be it, Asia, Africa, Americas and Europe. Last heard, the doc will hold seminars in Mumbai's red light areas, kamathipura and Congress House..oops no lesson to the grand ole' party on sexual abstinence.

All condom ads, read the sizzling Moods condom will be thrown out of the window as Dr Harsh Vardhan will occupy prime advertising slot on TV. Now, who needs condom ads when the new mouth condom with adds on in the form jingle bell the doc way on our idiot box?

ABCD we are done with, SEX, the three letter word to be banned and too much gandi baat, you see, Shahid and Sonakshi..we will only have sanskari baat, as good and morally upright kids. You see, in India sex is bad and we will top the world with zero Aids. That's called control the genius way Dr Harsh Vardhan running for the Nobel prize.

And the award for the best and morally clean condom, free of stint and for promoting Indian values in the land of Kamasutra goes to Dr Harsh Vardhan. Super creative brand ambassador for mouth condom blowing our minds.