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.”

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!!!