NOT FOR ME

I. Hate. Coffee.

These words weren’t supposed to go together in a sentence, if they were linked to me. I mean how could I hate coffee???

In case you don’t relate to this or fail to understand this, let me tell you about myself.

I was three when I took my first sip of this drink that tasted like it came right out of the Angel’s goblet. Hot. Bitter. Sweet. All at once. Wow! I knew I had discovered my addiction, but it wasn’t until I was in second standard that I actually caught onto it. That was the max my Mother could keep me away from my sweet poison.

‘Nandu,’ she cautioned my father, ‘this is not correct. You are spoiling her.’

‘Relax Mona, its just coffee! Besides, we make it mild and of milk only!’ Dad said, a coffee addict himself; and Mom knew she’d lost the battle.

Over the years, my coffee, and me, went through a lot of changes… and now, my coffee was strong, black, hot, and bitter; and I was… well, I was a teenager… What else can I say… What else needs to be said?

So I was now a girl who was always seen in coffee shops, with an espresso, and a cute guy occasionally… But I was waiting for my best friend that day. We were meeting after a gap of seven days… seven whole days! For people who SMS-ed each other first thing in the morning even before brushing their teeth, then called up each other on reaching their respective colleges, then met up in the evening for a cup of coffee, and still argued with their mothers’ sometimes for permission to meet for a late-night ice-cream, seven days was a time unbearable to stay away from each other! So there I was waiting for Ankita, and she came in fifteen minutes late… as usual…

‘Heyyyyyyyyyy!’ she said and spread her arms… and we engulfed each other in a bear hug.

‘Hieeeeeeeeee!’ I replied. ‘How have you been? And how was the tour?’

Oh didn’t I tell you? She had gone to Coorg… as part of the study tour organized by their college. She is doing architecture.

‘Missed you yaar…’ I said as we took our seats. And Ankita did something very uncharacteristic of her; she reached out and pulled my cheeks.

‘I missed you too yaar! We had so much fun! You would have loved it… there were so many photographic locations!! You would have loved it yaar…’

‘I know… ok now lets order first and then I want a blow-by-blow account of what you did!’ I said.

‘Ok, how about we both have espresso? Like we did on our ‘pre-result freak out’?’ Ankita suggested.

‘Sure! That’ll be cool,’ I said.

So we ordered two espressos and started chatting. Now everybody who has ever been to CCD knows what the espresso out there is like… they say if you are sensitive enough and if the coffee is hot enough, you get a kick out of it, if you drink it in one sip, like a Tequila; its so concentrated and bitter.

Ankita started telling me memoirs of the trip, right from the minute they boarded the train. From all that she told me, I gathered the best part of the tour was the two nights they spent in the train! What with everybody staying up the whole night and playing ‘truth n’ dare’… That’s one game I still haven’t grown out of… or we, as in my Old World Friends, haven’t grown out of. I cant remember one time when we all met and didn’t end up playing atleast a few rounds of ‘truth n’ dare’… and as it turned out, it was Ankita’s idea for sure; and everybody loved it.

‘And then at one point the bottle pointed out to Prajak,’ she said.

‘Oh no, not again!’ I said. I hadn’t met even one of her friends actually, but I would easily spot them on a crowded street if I were to see them… such is the magic of Ankita's anecdotes. I already knew them all like they were my friends… who did what, who liked who, who was the idiot, who was the ‘poor me’, who was the ‘wanna be’, and who was the joker… of course, it was Prajak. So I could imagine what must have happened, and I started laughing; but nothing prepared me for what she told me.

‘No no! Listen!’ Ankita said. ‘He chose dare; so one of the guys dared him to pick out any girl at random in our class and propose to her!’

‘No way!’ I said.

‘No really! And you won’t believe, he picked out Pooja, and oh my God! He proposed to her so so sweetly! He got down on one knee and all! We were all dumb-struck! For a moment after he finished, we were all just staring at them. Even Pooja was looking like she’ll drop her jaw to the floor any minute. And then he just got up and went and sat on the seat again, and we all started clapping and cheering!’

‘Really!’ I said; I couldn’t believe it either.

‘Ya…’

And then she went on to describe everything… how they reached an hour late; checked into their hotels, had food and headed straight for their rooms as they were all dead tired; then went on their first study the next day; came back home in pouring rain… and on and on it went till almost quarter to eight. Finally it was time to leave. We paid the bill and went to the parking area across the street. Ankita was waiting for a rickshaw. I opened the dickey of my Activa and threw my wallet in it. I removed the scarf and was tying it around my face when I suddenly heard someone scream out my name. I turned around. It was Ankita. She crossed the street and ran up to me.

‘Are you nuts or what?’ I said. ‘What happened?’

‘Arre I got you something and forgot to give it to you!’ she said. She fished into her hand bag and removed two small packets.

‘What is this?’ I said as I took the packets from her; and answered my own question before she could… the aroma was not one which I wouldn’t recognize, and we both ended up screaming together gleefully;

‘Coffee!’

‘Ya,’ she said.

‘Wow!’ I said and opened one of the packets. I smelled the coffee and within a minute I was in heaven. ‘God! That smells almost divine!’ I said. I smelled again. ‘Yummy!’

‘I knew you would like it! I was hunting for a souvenir for you all over! But nothing seemed to strike a chord… and then on our last tour, we were having food and I smelled coffee. And you won’t believe, I followed the smell and traced it to this really tiny shop, like a kiosk. They were selling hand-ground coffee, and I knew I just had to buy it! So I bought two packets for you and two for me.’

‘Oh my God! That’s so sweet of you! Thanks!’ I said and engulfed her into a bear hug. She hugged me back.

‘By the way, don’t mix them up. They are not same. The one with the red rubber band is ‘Chicory mixed coffee’, and the other is plain coffee,’ she said; and immediately I opened the other packet and smelled that too.

‘Hmm… smells almost the same,’ I said.

‘That ‘almost’ makes all the difference!’ she remarked and I smiled.

‘Wowie, thanks yaar!’ I said. Just then a rickshaw slowed down next to us.

‘Aana hai madam?’ (You looking for a rickshaw?) The guy asked.

‘Haan haan,’ Ankita said as she hurriedly got into the rickshaw.

‘Call me!’ she called out as the rickshaw drove off. I gave her the thumbs up.

I got home and couldn’t wait to finish dinner. Mom was rather surprised to see me in the kitchen after we were done.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘Making coffee; it’s quite cold.’ I replied without looking at her.

‘Deva! Wachav re baba!’ (Oh God! Save me!) She said as she walked back to the bedroom and closed the door.

I poured the steaming hot ‘Chicory mixed coffee’ into my favourite bright red mug and washed the vessel. I cleared the counter, turned the light off and walked back to my room. I was getting ready to enjoy a late night of coffee and reading, snuggled in my blanket. Mom and Dad were already in bed, trying to sleep as the cold bit into them.

I found my iPod and turned it on. Ah! What luck! My favourite song played on the shuffle list. ‘Perfect!’ I thought as I fluffed my pillow. I arranged the small stool right net to my bed and placed my cell and my coffee mug onto it. Then I got into bed and pulled the cover till my shoulders. I opened the book and took the mug in my hand.

‘This is life!’ I said to myself and took my first sip of the coffee.

I spat it back into the mug.

‘Aaaargh!’ I said as I wiped my mouth to the back of my sleeve. I looked at the coffee like it was poison. I smelled it and looked at it again. I tried another sip, a tiny one this time, and spat it back again. I set the mug aside and immediately picked up my cell. I looked at the watch. Eleven-fifty. ‘I don’t care,’ I said as I opened the message window.

‘wht shit hv u givn me as souvenir? U tryna kil me or wht?’ I typed and sent it to Ankita.

‘wht?’ came the reply, after five minutes

‘wht is tht chicory stuf suposed 2 b?’ I replied again.

‘u din lik it?’

‘I HATE IT MOR THAN ANYTHING I HAVE EVER TASTED! ITS DISGUSTING!’ I replied.

‘thts weird. ppl luv it. funy u dnt… n u say u r adictd 2 coffee.’ Came the reply.

‘YA RIGHT!’ I shouted.

‘Mrunal! Shut up!’ came the reply, this time from my parent’s bedroom.

‘Ya ya!’ I said and threw the blanket off me. I went inside the kitchen and switched the light on. I poured the entire mug right into the basin and flushed it. I rinsed the mug and set it on the counter, inverted, to drain off the water. I opened the refrigerator and took the half finished Dairy Milk bar. I munched onto it irritatedly… but the chocolate soon took over me and I got engrossed in the book and slept off sometime around two-thirty.

For the first time in my life, I got up and didn’t have coffee the next day. It took me several weeks to start drinking coffee again… and for a few days, mom was in heaven. Everytime I looked at a mug of coffee or passed a coffee shop or saw some advertisement of Bru or NesCafe, my mouth screwed up in the most difficult way and I turned away from whatever it was that had reminded me of the coffee.

‘God! What happened to you yaar?’ Ankita asked me, the day after my ‘Chicory mixed coffee’ disaster, over the phone. She was laughing her guts off.

‘Nothing,’ I said; ‘but I hated whatever it was that you gave me. And one thing’s for sure, I like coffee, but chicory is not for me,’ I said, and Ankita laughed more…

LONGING

I know you are not here… And that you will probably never be…

I know you are never going to read this… these words that I have got to write anyway…

I don’t know you… I don’t know where you are… but I can somehow feel it, within the heart of my heart, that as I write these words one by one, as they come to my mind, you can perceive them… somewhere… somehow… I don’t know what to say to you… does anything need to be said? They say when you really want something; the whole universe conspires to get it for you… I don’t know what I want… but if you can feel me, you may well know by now, what it is that I want…

And till then, I will wait… in this pain that doesn’t really hurt… in this wait that is necessary… I have come to like it now… come to live in this longing to meet you someday… Will you be like I have seen you to be in my thoughts, or have felt you to be like when I close my eyes? Will I recognize you if I saw you in a crowded street? Is that what ‘striking a chord’ means? I believe in serendipity… do you? Will you ever come across this? Will you try to reach out to me when you do? Maybe you will… Maybe you won’t…

And even though I really wish you would… a part of me wants to live in this longing… forever…

PERFECT PROPOSAL

I woke up with a cold sweat on my forehead and my heart racing faster than PT Usha perhaps; and my first thought was: Do early morning dreams really come true?

I hoped and hoped they didn't… I didn’t want to lose Dhananjay after all… Not for a thousand other friends… Or for a thousand other guys precisely… You only come across your dream guy once after all, right?

I went through my daily chores mechanically… I had Chemistry practicals that day, so I had already bathed and packed my bag by the time it was eight. Mom had packed my tiffin for me and left it on the kitchen counter already, and she had left for her morning walk. I entered the kitchen and picked up my tiffin. Stuffing it in my bag, I left the house sharp at eight-fifteen.

Dhananjay made a grand entry at nine, for a practical scheduled to begin at eight-thirty. Ma’am was already past the stage of getting angry at him.

‘Sorry ma’am I__’

‘No! Its ok. You don’t have to explain,’ Ma’am replied, her voice rather even. Dhananjay, and the rest of the students including me, rolled our eyes. Dhananjay muttered a meek ‘thanks’ and went to keep his bag on the shelf.

‘What are you doing?’ Ma’am called out.

Dhananjay turned around and looked at ma’am. He kept staring at her.

‘Out.’ Ma’am said.

‘Ma’am but__’

‘I said its ok. You don’t have to explain. Pick up your bag and out.’

Realising he didn’t have a choice, Dhananjay picked up his bag and stormed out of the lab. Suddenly everybody in the lab became quiet. There was not a word to be heard after that till the end of the practicals. We joined Dhananjay in the canteen at eleven-thirty.

‘Kya yaar!’ (What man!) Niraj exclaimed. ‘Why can’t you be on time for once?’

‘Arre ervicha thik ahe, (It’s another thing everyday) I come late on purpose. But I had to go to the doctor today morning.’

My ears pricked.

‘Why? What happened?’ Niraj asked.

‘Same thing. This cold will really kill me one day.’

‘Is it causing a lot of trouble?’ Tanmaya asked.

‘Not ‘a lot’ really, but enough to make me make a trip to the doctor.’

‘So what did the doctor say?’

‘What will he say? “Take care, wear a sweater,” this, that.’

‘But you said your asthma was under control now?’ Tanmaya again.

‘Yes! But just check out the cold man! 5.5o! Who thought Pune could get this cold! It gets a bit hard in the winters…’ Dhananjay said.

‘Yeah…’ Niraj said.

‘I know…’ Tanmaya said.

‘Why are you so quiet today?’ Dhananjay asked me suddenly.

‘Nothing…’ I said and looked away.

‘God! I’m ravenous!’ Niraj said out of the blue. ‘Let’s eat.’

We all proceeded to bring our tiffins out of our bags. Dhananjay put a hand into his bag; it came out empty.

‘Shit!’ he exclaimed, banging his hand on the table.

‘Now what?’ Tanmaya said.

‘I forgot my tiffin.’

‘Oh no!’

‘That’s ok,’ Niraj said, ‘We all share our tiffins anyway right?’

‘Why don’t we go to the University Canteen instead?’ Dhananjay suggested. ‘I mean if it’s ok with__’

‘No!’

This came from me. I surprised myself as much as I surprised the three of them at the sudden exclamation.

‘Why not?’ Tanmaya asked.

‘Let’s just not go ok?’ I said; for only I had foreseen what lie ahead of us if we were to go to the University Canteen.

‘But why?’ Dhananjay asked. ‘In fact a little bit of sun will do me good.’

‘Ya, come on! Let’s go yaar!’ Niraj persuaded. I tried my best to protest, but couldn’t. Finally I gave in to the idea.

‘I don’t feel like driving though,’ Dhananjay said.

‘Come on! You know I can’t drive!’ Niraj said.

‘It’s ok! We’ll drive today!’ Tanmaya said.

‘Ok! I’m sitting on your bike then,’ Niraj said, leaving Dhananjay to sit behind me. Soon we were on our way to the University Canteen.

‘Whats the matter yaar?’ Dhananjay asked me, his voice lower than usual, as we were driving. We had entered the University premises.

‘Nothing,’ I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

‘You are shivering,’ Dhananjay said.

‘It’s the cold.’

‘Since when did you start feeling cold?’ Dhananjay asked me. I kept quiet. ‘You are looking pretty today though,’ he added.

Under normal circumstances, this should have sent me to seventh-heaven. I should have been extremely flattered, ecstatic, and incomparably happy. I mean, you don’t always receive compliments from your dream guy right? But I didn’t even as much as smile at him. In fact, I was almost on the verge of tears.

‘And why did you say ‘no’ to coming to the canteen?’ he asked further.

Now how was I to answer that? ‘Because you are going to die now’? I tried to fight back my tears. Superstitions, when they are related to or when they involve people you really love and care about, can scare the daylights out of you. I didn’t want to lose Dhananjay; no! No way! On the one hand my heart was praying and praying madly that nothing should go wrong, that my nightmare shouldn’t come true. And on the other hand my brain was laughing at me for actually believing or thinking that such things happen… that such superstitions come true.

‘Hey! WATCH OUT!’ he shouted in my ear. I blinked; and the next moment I found myself headed straight towards a Maruti 800. I swerved my bike and avoided banging head-on into it.

‘Stop! Stop right now,’ Dhananjay said. I obeyed. He got off the bike. I got off it too. He took the key from me.

‘Sit.’ He ordered. I obeyed. We took off again.

We were both quiet after that; he being angry; me… a lot of things. I breathed in his scent. My lungs filled with the smell of ‘Old Spice’. His muffler was fluttering in the air as he sped through the maze of roads. Suddenly I had a strong urge to hug him, and before I knew it, I really was hugging him.

‘Hey! Hello! Kya hua hai yaar tujhe aaj?’ (Whats happened to you today?)

I kept quiet.

Dhananjay didn’t say anything after that; but he placed one of his hands on mine and drove slower. He slacked in his back, making me nuzzle against him. The rest of the journey was completed in silence, with him whistling one of the stanzas of our favourite song, Bin Tere Sanam.

About an hour later we were having a walk through the University Garden. We had just finished eating, and nobody was in a mood to go back to college and sit for the lectures.

‘Lekin bol na yaar, tujhe hua kya hai?’ (But what is the matter with you?) Niraj again asked me.

‘And don’t say nothing,’ Tanmaya said.

‘Abe mujhe puchh na!’ (Ask me!) Dhananjay said. ‘I’ll tell you what the matter is. Madam is lost in thoughts of her lover!’

I shot Dhananjay a look. His eyes were twinkling with laughter. Tanmaya and Niraj were already acting like I had announced my engagement or something. We were out of the garden now, heading back towards our vehicles.

‘What! Really?’

‘Who is it?’

I kept looking at Dhananjay. He stared back at me.

I looked away. I could hear them all tease me, but I couldn’t really figure out what they were saying. I was there with them physically, but mentally I seemed to be lost somewhere…

‘Do you believe in superstitions?’ I asked all of a sudden, and everyone went quiet.

‘What?’ Dhananjay was the first one to speak.

‘I just had this weird dream last night,’ I said, finally coming out with what had been eating my mind since morning. ‘They say early morning dreams come true. Do you think they really do?’

The silence that ensued was so dead, if I tried real hard, I could’ve probably heard their hearts beat. With perfect timing I realised there was nobody on the road; it had emptied almost suddenly. There was not a vehicle or a person to be seen. I glanced back at the garden; it had emptied too. Just like in the dream…

‘I don’t know…’ Tanmaya said. ‘Maybe they do.’

‘Yeah… I mean, I never had a dream early morning. I mean, I don’t get up that early anyway, so I wouldn’t know really…’ Niraj said.

‘Yeah… And I don’t dream so much…’ Tanmaya added. ‘So…’

I looked at Niraj and Tanmaya. Suddenly I realised they were wearing the same clothes as they had dressed up in in my dream. I looked at Dhananjay. He was wearing the same clothes too.

I closed my eyes. And just then I heard a car in the distance, approaching us from behind. I quickly pulled Dhananjay on the inside of the road and started walking on the outside.

‘Anyway! So where were we?’ Niraj said.

‘Madam’s lover!’ Tanmaya prompted, and they all started laughing. The sound of the car grew louder. It was coming up fast… real fast.

‘Right! Ae bol na Dhananjay (Come on tell us Dhananjay). Who is the mystery guy?’

I turned around. I could see the car now. I turned back and looked at Dhananjay.

‘It’s no one,’ I said.

‘Oh ya! Really?’ Dhananjay said, looking at me, his eyes twinkling as they always do when he is up to some mischief.

‘Ya.’

‘But then what was that stuff about__’

And just then, Dhananjay stopped in mid-sentence, took my hand and pulled me hard towards himself. The car drove past us.

I heard Tanmaya shout.

I heard Niraj shout.

Me and Dhananjay fell to the ground.

I quickly recovered and got up.

‘Are you nuts or__’ Dhananjay began to say, but his voice got swallowed up in his coughing.

‘Laksha kuthe hota tujha?’ (What were you so lost in?) Tanmaya said. She quickly got down to her knees and removed her water bottle from her bag. She offered it to Dhananjay. He took the bottle, but couldn’t stop himself from coughing, even enough to drink the water.

‘Oye yaar, take it easy!’ Niraj said. But Dhananjay’s coughing only got worse. I began rubbing his back.

‘I am sorry Dhananjay,’ I said. He looked at me; his eyes were blood-shot and watering from the excessive coughing. And just then I realised; he was having an attack.

‘Oh my God,’ Tanmaya said, as it struck her too. She went through his bag to find his inhaler, but it wasn’t there. Seems like he had forgotten that too. Dhananjay's coughing was now at its peak. He was gasping for air.

‘I’ll go check the dickey of his bike, it might be there in it,’ Niraj said as he sped off in the direction of our bikes. Meanwhile I and Tanmaya tried to reduce the coughing. But we didn’t know quite what to do. And just then, Dhananjay breathed in one last time, closed his eyes and fell to the ground.

Tanmaya froze.

I froze.

We kept staring at a motionless Dhananjay.

Just then Niraj cam back with the inhaler. He took one look at us, and the inhaler dropped out of his hand.

Suddenly Tanmaya burst into tears.

Niraj bent down on his knees and held her in his arms.

I just kept staring at Dhananjay… kept staring at his hair, his eyes, his lips… all things I was crazy about… all things that were now lifeless… dead.

I raised my hand and placed it on his heart. I ran it across his chest. I bent down and placed my head on his chest. I closed my eyes. I could still hear Tanmaya crying. My finger grabbed his t-shirt slowly… my fist growing stronger and stronger. I bit my lips. Slow and steady the tears started pouring out of my eyes.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my back. I looked up.

Dhananjay was staring at me.

I blinked. I turned around and looked at Tanmaya. She was standing now, and so was Niraj, right next to her.

I looked back at Dhananjay. And now, his eyes were wet.

‘You love me so much?’ he said.

I blinked, still not able to make head or tails of what was happening.

Dhananjay now sat up and leaned against the tree behind him.

‘It was a joke,’ he explained.

I looked at Tanmaya and Niraj. They nodded. I looked back at Dhananjay.

‘It was a joke,’ he repeated. ‘I talked Tanmaya and Niraj into it. When Tanmaya told me you liked me… I couldn’t believe it. Why would you want to be with a guy like me? Someone who has health problems and a medical history and all… So I decided to__’

‘Pucch hi lete ek baar. Mein bata deti,’ (You just had to ask me once. I would have told you.) I said and got up. I started walking toward our bikes. Dhananjay called out to me. I didn’t respond. I heard him get up. Tanmaya and Niraj chose not to follow him as he came after me. I started walking faster as I heard Dhananjay close up to me. He started walking faster too. Finally he ran up to me, and held me arm. He pulled me towards him.

‘I am sorry,’ he said.

I looked at him. And before I knew it, I had slapped him.

He looked back at me.

‘I am really__’

I slapped him again, this time on the other cheek.

He looked back at me. His eyes were welling up… fast. He took me by the arms and tried to pull me into an embrace. I tried to resist… but gave in finally, breaking out into tears.

‘I love you,’ he said.

I cried harder… but nodded. That’s all I could do really at that moment…






I stop here… but I smile as I realise I still haven’t told you one thing: I don’t believe in superstitions anymore, but I do believe in miracles…

YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL

It was way past my bed-time, and I was not at all in a mood to sleep. The next day was Sunday anyway, so I didn’t need to sleep early or wake up early or anything. And then, when I am sulking, there is no use telling me or convincing me. When I am sulking, I have just one rule: leave me alone, and I won’t swallow you whole.

So what was I doing then?

Orkut-ing… what else?

I went and checked out several people’s profiles (all guys; needless to say) and scrapped several unknown guys - very uncharacteristic of me. And just as I was about to logoff, some guy scrapped me.

‘heyaaaaaa! no reply miss!’

G.O.D.

Are guys really that dumb? Or is it my dire luck that I always come across losers? This guy had been bothering me for god knows how many days; I had lost count by then. And I had been avoiding him - again quite uncharacteristic of me. But… there was something wrong with me… There had been something wrong with me for quite some time… I had changed… I had become very irritable, and was on a low in general… anyway. So I saw his name in my scrapbook and thought to myself; ‘That’s it! I am getting rid of this guy tonight, and for good.’

‘wht is ur prob dude? jst buzz off.’

‘i c u r rg’s fren.’ came the reply, and I immediately scanned his friend-list; sure enough, he was RG’s friend. I mellowed down a bit.

‘ya. so?’

‘so I though mayb v cud hv a chat… do u hv webcam?’

Oh God. Now I was totally convinced this guy was the ultimate loser category. I hated such guys, who think they are being really suave when they say and do things that would turn even the most boring and ‘plain Jane’ of girls’ off. Things like; ‘cn v b frens’ n ‘do u hv a cel’ or ‘do u hv a webcam’ or even ‘wen cn v meet’… God! I so loathed these types!

‘no.’ I said.

‘ok. hw abt a pic?’

‘y u wana c me so badly?’ I asked him. Actually I didn’t even know why I was talking with him in the first place… n that too when I was in such a bad mood.

‘hv herd a lot bt u frm rg. pl.’

And right there I saw my way out of this guy… I show him my pic, he doesn’t like me, and I am free!

Now, I am not the kind of person who has a low self-esteem or anything… but then, I also don’t have any fancy ideas about how I look… I think I look good… not exceptionally beautiful or anything, but good. But I am also more on the plump side. So, its like - guys like me, but not enough to pursue me I guess… Actually whatever… it doesn’t matter, I don’t care.

I gave the guy my Yahoo!-id and asked him to come online. I clicked on the photo-sharing option and chose the dumbest of my pics. It wasn’t all that dumb actually, but I wouldn’t consider it my best pic; atleast not a pic I’d share with a guy.

‘luks lik its bit big. takin tym to load. so wht do u do?’

‘u knw wht?’

‘wht’

‘jst c d pic n buz off. m nt in d mood fr a chat.’

‘y? wht hapnd?’

‘whtevr! wht is ur prob anyway? u think u r sm grt guy who cn whisk my probs away jst lik tht? u think u r bein vry nic n suave wen u ask me whts d matr wit me?’

‘u knw wht I think? i think u r drunk, or u r being vry funy rit nw.’

‘luk, whtevr ur name is – ’

‘luv. my name is luv. as in luv-kush.’

GOD SAVE ME! I almost cried out reading that one. Luv. LUV! How could anyone’s parents ever name their son ‘Luv’? Eeeeeeeeeeeew!

‘okh LUV. m hvin a bad day. so jst buz off. frankly i dnt evn knw y i m talking to u in d first place. I need to b left alon rite nw, k? so jst – ’

‘wow. u r beautiful.’

Pause.

‘wht?’

‘ur pic. it jst loaded fully. u r beautiful.’

‘ya rite. i m beautiful, n d world is flat.’

‘i mean it. m nt putin u on.’

‘no. m nt beautiful, m fat.’

‘bt dt dosnt mean u r nt beautiful.’

And just like that, my eyes welled up. I don’t know what happened in that one moment, but the next moment, I was crying. I was laughing and crying at the same time. It was like all my anger and frustration and irritation had gone in a moment.

‘u knw wht?’

‘wht?’

‘u r mad.’

‘cmon. tel me smthin new. :D’

God. I felt so touched… It was nothing maybe, and for all I know, he could be just putting me on. I can’t really express what I want to say, or how I felt. But… its like, me being fat had become a part of my identity. Even that would have been ok with me, but it gets really annoying when all people reduce you to is ‘that big fat girl’. Yes, I am very tall, and I am stout. I am not the bulging fat types. But yes, I could do with losing a few pounds. But lately, it seemed like that was the only thing people could notice in me. I act like it doesn’t bother me. And personally, it doesn’t. But sometimes you do get tired of acting strong, or acting like you couldn’t care less about what people said and did. Sometimes, it just gets to you, and all you feel like doing is curling into a corner and hugging yourself and crying. Wouldn’t you feel great if someone came along at such a time and just appreciated you the way you are? Or said something stupid and ridiculous and wonderful at the same time? Sometimes that’s all that we want really… to be accepted for what we are… to be liked or cherished just the way we are. And that is exactly what this guy had just done.

‘thnx.’ I said… That’s all I could think of saying really. It was such a stupid thing… so trivial. But it lifted me up and made me happy. We exchanged a few more words and then said goodbye and logged off.






To this day, I haven’t been able to find that guy again… I don’t know where he is or how he is. I asked my friend RG, but she completely denied of knowing any such guy. Maybe we were talking of 2 different RGs… or maybe RG had unknowingly accepted his ‘friend request’ on Orkut and didn’t really know him… or maybe… I don’t know what… I can’t really explain what happened. But that guy just came and went… just like that.

Luv, if you are reading this right now, I just want to say; thanks. Thanks for what you did. Maybe its nothing to you, but it meant a lot to me… thanks… and hope we meet again some day…