“Shamita!!!”
I am shocked. But I don’t show it. Or maybe I am not that shocked that I should display it. The reaction just doesn’t come the way it should. I say something lame enough for him to believe.
“Wow!!....great choice man!!!” that’s it. I said it. And the fuck!...he believed in it.
“Isn’t she beautiful??”
That is called love. It makes you blind. Blind enough to oversee the obvious.
I just nod. I can’t comment beyond that. She isn’t beautiful. She is just provocative. She is sensuous. She is seductive. But by no ways is she beautiful.
“She is the most beautiful girl in the world”, He says next. Fucker is too clichéd. Can’t even come up with an original line. Unable to comprehend his seemingly undying love for her I ask.
“How did this happen?”
“Even I don’t know…”
Wow!!!
“And around when???” I am the unstoppable questioner. I at times wonder at my ability to gather enough eagerness to welcome boredom in the worst patches of boredom of my life.
“The first day when she entered the class….she was with you….but I knew then itself…You were not her boyfriend!!...”
This man before me is a psychic. He rightly knows things. Should I inquire about the gender of my unconcieved offspring at this moment? Will he tell me if it’s a he or she???
No I wasn’t her boyfriend. She just graduated with me. Was in the same class as mine. And was a part of my friends pool. But No. She wasn’t my girlfriend. Nor was I her boyfriend. It was a sheer fact that we ended up being admitted into a same college for post grad. That’s it. It all ends here. Although I tried a bit to get her admitted into the same college as mine. And had always felt a pull towards her within the darkest corners of my heart and lower corners of my body. I had my plans for sure. But no. We weren’t a pair. And very unlikely to be one.
Also a secret bit of information which I have tried to conceal within the same dark corners of my heart. She was the closest friend of a girl whom I had chased in vain for four years of my life. And she was well aware of the fact. Those four years are a long story. And this is not the time for it.
“How did you know that???” I asked. Of course I was curious.
“Body language…”
No not a psychic…he’s beyond that. The art of understanding body language. He knew it all.
Harshad was the pet name for those enlightened with the knowledge of all knowledges. Understanding body language.
“I looked at her face for the first time and kept looking at her” He continued.
That’s the reason I could never fall in love with her. I never looked at her face. I kept looking at her other attributes instead. They were equally interesting. In fact more, with the fact that they popped out most of the time from her garments.
“And it was then…that I knew….that it was her!!!....my soulmate!!!” Back to Harshad, “…My true love”.
Soulmate. Enough of this bullshit. I can’t take it anymore. But a free beer! It’s all worth it!
And it’s not exactly bullshit. It has an element of amusement to it. If I hadn’t been bored enough, I would’ve laughed. Laughed loudly. Laughed my heart out! Ha ha ha ha ha! But I am too bored to do it. Out of it, I look at my glass. It’s half empty. By laws of psycho-physics it also means that I had gulped down half of it. Or more than half. By laws of pessimism, my glass is half empty. By laws of optimism, my glass is half filled. In any damn case, I need a refill. I pour the rest of the beer left in the bottle into my glass. The sight of the small guzzling bubbles in the golden entity soothe me. I stare at them for some time. They emit a sense of calmness through their upward motion. A small hollow sphere, leaving from a convex floor and rocketing towards the surface. It completes its journey in a fraction of a second. And yet it attains the completeness by bursting on touching the surface and disappearing completely. Like an instantly achieved Nirvana.
Harshad finds me lost into the beer glass. He wakes me up.
“Kya hua??....are you sad?” He smartly inquires.
Are you concerned? Or are you taking a guess? Chutiya!!
“No re…I am a bit worried” I am the master of impromptu answers.
“About what?” And now he is!
“If it will be fine with your families….” No! I don’t deserve a praise for this made up reason. As long as one is falling in love in India, this is a question that one does have to worry about. You can consider it an obvious statement. Yet, it did help me in covering up my transcendental state.
“I’ll manage everything man!!....It’s my love for her that will overcome all obstacles!”
Who teaches him this stuff. Where does he learn it from. Is this his own creation or is there an immovable influence behind these words flowing out of his oral cavity. I am learning so much in his company.
“I salute you my friend….you are a real hero!...fortune favours the brave!....and it shall favour you” I am no less!
“Thanks so much man!!”
“My honour…..another beer?”
“Yeah….why not!!.....only the brave drink till they drop”
Fuck you! Are you going to drop? Damn you!
“Even if you do….I will carry you home!” Ignore the upper line. This is what I say.
“Real friend you are!!”
“Yes!!”
“then I ask one more thing from you as a real friend ….”
Such a bugger! I wished to god, if he exists that is, that he should go dumb before he utters another word and lets me drink in peace. But I thoroughly doubt God’s existence.
He goes on, “….I want you to keep this as a secret to yourself….and not tell anybody else!!”
“I promise” I wish I had some real close friends here. I would’ve loved to tell them. But I don’t have any of them here. And so, this remains a secret.
He utters similar bullshit throughout the evening as we drink. Yet I selectively hear him and enjoy my drink. We get amply high. We drink four bottles of beer each. And we leave the place. Drunk. And determined to reach our respective rooms walking.
I take his leave at the chowk. I walk my way uphill to my room. It will not be MY room now. This is the infestation period. And it will be infested by Piyush and Dilip. And the adjoining room by Samrat. The dumbarse senior, whose roommate is into a live-in with his girlfriend and only shares the room with Samrat when her laundry fills her room up. I wish Anshul reaches there before me. Or it will be dificult to bear Piyush alone.
(Contd.)
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment