Varadharajan Ramesh's Blog, page 7

Match Made In Heaven

It was a convention like none other – men and women from different countries had come together to find themselves the perfect job and the perfect partner. Few were nursing drinks, and a few were just loitering around, but almost everyone had their eyes peeled, searching for that one soul they could connect with.

Nero was thirty-eight and tired. He had worked non-stop for eighteen years in his organization and had grown to become one of its top executives. He wore the finest Italian suits and drove flashy cars, but he felt an ever-expanding void on the inside. Today was his latest attempt at connecting with somebody and he was desperate to say the least.

Picking up one of the dockets that were placed in order on the main table, Nero leafed through its contents as he milled around, his weary eyes flickering between the sheets in his hand and the crowd, as he searched for someone to share a fascinating journey he was about to embark on.

Men and women passed by, each giving him appreciative glances and hopeful smiles, yet he walked on until he found her. She was wearing a pretty yellow and white summer dress and she looked bored. Nero gave her the once-over and his heart skipped a beat as he noticed her tattoo.

With a smile, he walked towards her, his matching tattoo displayed proudly on the finger holding the job sheet. Her countenance lit up with a radiant smile.

A match made in contract-killer heaven!

Written for #TellTaleThursday hosted by Priya and Anshu. 

Gambit

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I’m but a child watching a chess game. I can see the players concentrating hard, thinking five, six, even ten steps ahead. Moves and countermoves, bluffs and double bluffs. One troop here, another there – all maneuvers towards the end goal. Towards the big prize.

Big wins requires big sacrifices. I see the pawns lying dead on sun-scorched sands and in snake-infested forests. Yet, the players sip their scotch and press ahead with their next step.

Time to interfere, to blow the chessboard into pieces. Everyone wins, everyone loses.

I’m but a child watching the game.

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Today’s prompt is from Jeff Arnold. Please find other entries here.

Total words: 94

 

Reincarnated(?)

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I was born here, in this very castle. They named me under this domed roof. I used to play hide and seek in the hidden corridors behind the alcoves. I fell in love under this roof, married and made love to my beloved, welcomed our first child… so many good memories.’ He smiled wryly, ‘It was under this roof that my wife and child were slaughtered before my very eyes. I swore bloody vengeance before they slit my throat.’

‘And, now you are back!’

‘Indeed!’

‘Alright, mate! We get atleast three like you everyday. Now, let me sweep the floor.’

Word Count: 100

Written in response to the picture prompt from Roger Bultot for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff – Fields. Please click here for other entries to this week’s prompt. 

Just Another Love Story – 4

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Please read Parts 1 , 2 , 3 before reading further

Tara wasn’t the first to come visit me at the hospital. It wasn’t Thomas either. I know it might have come as a shock, but it was Preeth who was the first to come calling. It had been a week since the kerfuffle at the cricket ground. The doctors had fixed me up with the help of metal plates and screws. My concussion had also subsided and I was able to eat solid food at last.

From the moment I had regained consciousness, my eyes were fixed towards the door hoping that Tara might come. She hadn’t and although I was disappointed, I understood. I was pretty sure that her name would have featured prominently during the shit storm that had engulfed the college after the incident. An enquiry committee was formed, containing the professors and staff members, and they started dishing out suspensions like circus notices on streets.

My suspension paper had come in when I was undergoing surgery. Mom told me that Dad had taken one look at it and had bristled out of the hospital with indignation. He hadn’t come back after that and he sure sounded mad when I talked with him over the telephone. My dad hated being unruly. He expected me to be a model student, and not a loafer (his words, not mine!) who engaged in fisticuffs over a girl.

I did understand where the old man came from. Dad had a construction company that was accruing severe losses. Not that he was not a good businessman or he built poor quality houses, but the situation was due to the real estate markets being down in the dumps. Some communal leader in Mumbai had made some inflammatory comments four years ago and his opponents had chosen our city to explode some bombs in retaliation. You see, stability is paramount when it comes to real estate. Who would want to buy a house when there was the threat of a bomb going off any minute? Dad had been under tremendous stress for the past four years and it was taking a toll on his health as well. Every passing day had seen a creditor sitting in our living hall, refusing to budge until they received assurances towards the loans dad had taken.

I was shielded from all those nasty moments since I was safely ensconced in a different city. My elder brother, Krish, had completed his civil engineering and was assisting dad. I knew that my family was counting on me to finish my engineering and get a steady job somewhere. And, I had gotten myself suspended from the college. Mom stayed with me for few days and she’d also gone back. Those few days after she left was the loneliest I felt. Small surprise that I was hoping that Tara would come to visit. I knew Thomas was feeling ashamed to come after deserting me in the cricket ground. So, you can only imagine my surprise when Preeth came in shuffling through the door. A white dressing, speckled with yellowish orange dots, featured prominently across his face.

‘How are you feeling, man?’ He pulled the single chair present in the hospital ward close to my bed and sat down.

I glared at him, ‘Like shit. You guys almost killed me.’

He looked embarrassed, ‘I came here to apologise, Ved. Things got out of hand. If only your friend had apologised…’

I raised my hand, cutting him mid-sentence. ‘You’ve apologised. Now, get out!’

Preeth sighed, ‘I don’t know what else to say, dude. I behaved like a pig and got my nose broken. But, this…’ he touched the cast on my hand lightly, ‘this wasn’t supposed to happen. The way things were taking shape, I thought that we’d be ganging up on Thomas. I’d even planned how to hurt him. Just a couple of taps would have sent him crying. That’s what should’ve happened.’

I didn’t open my mouth.

‘But, you surprised the hell out of me.’ Preeth continued, his tone contrite, ‘I never expected you to start beating the crap out of us, dude.’

‘Well, you shouldn’t have said those things.’

‘I shouldn’t have.’ He shook his head, ‘Man, how did things come to this? I’m very sorry buddy. I said certain things about Tara…’

‘Yeah! You shouldn’t have.’ I growled through gritted teeth.

‘Life is full of surprises, man. I never thought that you’d be the one to respond with violence.’ Preeth placed his hand on top of mine, ‘We live to learn, right? I learnt my lesson the hard way. I have been a jackass all through my life. I’m going to try my best to change. That’s the reason I came here. To apologise unreservedly, and to hand you this.’

He fetched an envelope bearing the college seal from his rucksack and placed it on the bedside table.

‘I confessed to the enquiry committee that I was the one to instigate the problem, and you were just trying to defend yourself. Your suspension is rescinded, man. Cheers.’

‘What about you?’

‘Suspended until the end of this semester. I can take the exams though.’ He chuckled, ‘Get well soon, Ved. I want you fit and ready. We are going to win the inter-college trophy and I want you in the team, Ok?’

I tried to smile but it came out as a grimace, ‘Thanks, Preeth. You could have stopped the beatings a couple of minutes earlier though!’

He nodded and rose up to leave, ‘Yeah. Could’ve, should’ve…’

He paused and looked at me strangely, ‘Has Tara come to see you yet?’

I shook my head in the negative.

‘Well, I’ll tell her to come visit. I know for a fact that she’s desperate to come, but since becoming the fodder to all sorts of gossip you can understand her reluctance.’

I nodded, ‘Have you seen Thomas around?’

‘Couple of times. Rascal, runs like a wounded dog whenever he comes across me. I need to tell you this, Ved. The next time you see Tara, tell her that you like her. Ok?’

‘What?’

‘C’mon, dude! I’m not an idiot. Thomas might be pursuing her, but I know you love her. I saw how you reacted when I started talking about her. You might think that you are going behind your friend’s back, but ever heard of the saying all’s fair in love and war? Just a word of advice, don’t wait for too long.’

He patted my shoulder and left.

I tried to process what Preeth had said as I drifted into a troubled sleep.

When I woke up, green eyes flecked with gold were staring at me. I felt groggy and my eyes were having trouble focusing, the duty nurse might have given me another course of sedatives when I was asleep. Horrible timing, I should say.

I tried to move myself to a sitting position and failed miserably. Tara smiled and placed a pillow behind my back, propping me to a semi-awkward sitting position.

I mumbled a groggy thanks and asked her to sit. I noticed that the chair that Preeth had moved close to the bed was still at the same position. Tara sat down and took my hand in hers.

‘Hey! Are you feeling better?’

I could see that she was fighting tears and hoped they wouldn’t come bursting out. I was worse than useless when asked to comfort a girl in distress.

‘Much better. The doctors have said that I can be discharged in a week.’

She was silent for a while, lost in her thoughts. I took the opportunity to will my brain to shake the grogginess away so that I could focus on her.

After what seemed like an eternity, she shook her head and sighed. ‘I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do.’

‘As in?’

‘Nothing! Leave it. Shit has hit the fan and there’s nothing I can do about it.’

‘What happened?’

She sniffed. Uh-oh! She composed herself, I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘It’s all these rumours in the college. Everyday there’s a new rumour surfacing and the only constant in all those rumours is me. Every rumour has me and some guy in it, and I can’t do anything about it. Some are innocent and sweet, but some are vicious and repugnant. It’s been a horrible few days for me.’ She bit her lips as the last few words escaped from their grasp, ‘I’m sorry! I’m an absolute idiot. Here you are, lying on a bloody hospital bed and here I am bitching about my troubles.’

‘It’s alright, Tara.’ I liked her dainty hand clasping mine. A little bird inside me whooped with joy and declared that it would be quite happy to do this for the next few decades.

‘It’s not alright, Ved! Directly, or indirectly I am the reason that you are in this situation. You are suspended as well. I feel guilty, and sick.’

‘My suspension’s been rescinded.’ I nodded my head towards the envelope on the table. ‘Preeth came by sometime back to deliver this.’

‘Preeth?’ The golden flecks widened in the emerald sea. That was the first time I saw that happening. ‘The nerve of him to come here after nearly killing you!’

‘He came to apologise, Tara. It was the heat of the moment and things went haywire. Also, I’m not sure if you knew, but I threw the first punch.’

The golden flecks in her eyes did a strange dance. I was mesmerised by them. Or, maybe it was the sedatives still working their magic.

‘I didn’t believe when I heard that you started the fight. I thought that people had their facts confused.’

My smile was laced with sarcasm, ‘I’m sure you’d have thought that it was Thomas who had thrown the first punch, right? Macho man Thomas, defender of the beautiful girls. In fact, I understand why you might have got confused. Who in their right minds would have thought that a bookworm like me might have instigated a fight?’

Her look made the next words coming out of my throat retract. She was angry. Believe it or not, that was the first and last time I ever saw the look on your mom’s face.

I muttered a feeble apology. Just like that, her anger evaporated.

‘Why did you do it?’

‘I just had to, Tara. Don’t ask any further.’

‘Listen, I know the reason. I just wanted to know why an extraordinarily gentle guy like you would pick a fight with certified bullies.’

‘Preeth insulted you, Tara. I broke his nose. That’s all!’

‘So, he insulted me. You should’ve ignored it. What’s so special about me that you just had to break his nose?’

‘Are you kidding me? No one insults my friends and gets away with it. I have two friends – you and Thomas. I won’t sit twiddling my thumbs if someone insults you, especially… ’

She smiled, ‘Especially?’

I coughed and mimed for a glass of water. I sighed in relief as she moved away. I had almost blurted out that I liked her. That little birdie inside me came back and started chirping in my ears, asking me to tell her. I gritted my teeth and suppressed the thoughts. Why? Asked the birdie. I ignored it.

Tara returned with the water and helped me drink it.

‘That was a fake cough, right?’ Her eyes were twinkling. I was getting sucked into that emerald whirlpool.

‘Maybe!’

‘You are a moron, Ved. I don’t know whether to kick you or kiss you.’

‘What?’

‘You heard it.’

‘Err… the duty doctor might come anytime now!’

She laughed, ‘You ARE a moron! Now, close your eyes. I have a gift for you.’

‘But…the doctor!’

‘Will you please close your eyes?’

I closed my eyes, and hoped I wouldn’t faint. Was she serious when she said that she wanted to kiss me?

‘Ok! Now open your eyes.’

I opened my eyes to see a heart-shaped balloon floating near my chest. Dangling from it was a CD.

‘This CD is very special. It has only two songs. Your favourite and mine. I had to hunt everywhere to get these songs.’

‘New World Symphony?’

She nodded, ‘Yes, I know that you have only a cassette tape of it and thought it’d be better if I burned you a CD.’

I was really touched at the gesture, ‘Thank you, Tara. What’s the other song in the CD?’

‘Any guesses?’

‘You never told me which your favourite piece of music was. But, let me take a shot…Antonio Vivaldi, Summer?’

Her eyes crinkled with mirth, ‘Not even close.’

‘I give up! Tell me.’

‘This is my absolute favourite, Ved. It is called The Second Waltz.’

‘Shostakovich?’

‘One and only!’

‘Wow! I’ve heard it a long time back in one of my grandpa’s vinyls. You have fantastic taste, Tara.’

‘I sure hope I do!’ She bent down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. ‘Enjoy Shostakovich. I’ll see you soon.’

She was about to exit the room when I called her, ‘Tara, do you know that The Second Waltz is primarily played in weddings?’

‘I do!’

She smiled and went with a spring in her steps. I’m sure I had a big, goofy grin on my face for the next few hours.

Neither of us had noticed Thomas witnessing our little moment and walking away in a huff.

Just Another Love Story – 3

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Please read Part 1 and Part 2 before reading further.

25.5 years earlier

 The first few months of our fourth semester were some of the most uncomfortable days I’ve ever had the misfortune of going through in my college days. The exams had begun a couple of weeks after the inter-departmental cultural fest, and had lasted all through October.

Our University had this weird system of having the exams for the odd number years in the afternoon and the even numbers in the morning. Coupled with the holidays, that meant I couldn’t see Tara for nearly a month and half. The whole time I was dreaming up scenarios in which your mom and I were together.

I had one more issue. Those dreams about your mom, my best friend Thomas had them too. Unlike me, Thomas was relentless in pursuing her. He’d found that Tara was his cousin’s classmate in school and used that connection, quite shamelessly I should add, to call her over the landline during the holidays. Me? I was passive, filled with hopeless dreams while my Thomas worked harder than he ever did in class to woo her.

Another reason was I was not a day scholar like Thomas. My town was two hundred kilometres away and I stayed in the college hostel during the semesters and ran back home the moment exams ended.

The first day of the new semester, I rushed back to the college and started waiting impatiently for the college buses to arrive. And she arrived, riding pillion on Thomas’ brand new Hero Honda CBZ.

I knew for a fact that they were not dating. If that was the case, Thomas would have made it a point to brag to the whole bloody college. But, Tara did spend quality time with Thomas. They watched movies, went for chaat, and even visited bookstores. How did I know? I was there as well, the bloody third wheel. Thomas bugged me into joining them whenever they went out. Why? Maybe Thomas wanted to build his image a little more in her eyes with me around or maybe she was not too comfortable going alone with a guy. Who knew?

But, she was very pleasant company. Unlike my best friend, Tara was interested in trivia and orchestral music. Thanks to my grandfather, I had developed interest in the works of Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven. But my absolute favourite was The New World Symphony by Antonin Dvorak. Did you know that Neil Armstrong took a tape of Dvorak’s masterpiece along with him on the Apollo 11 to the moon? Nope? But, Tara knew.

Thomas made it a point to mock the both of us whenever we descended into one of our usual trivia-thon. That made me want to punch him.

Things remained more of the same for another month or so. The three of us were still going out, but somehow the dynamics of our little trio had changed. Tara and I started having more conversations and that annoyed Thomas to no end. More than once, he griped that he liked me when I was not comfortable around girls. I just smiled and brushed away his complaints.

There was something else brewing in the background. Something I figured might become a potential headache for us very soon. Our senior, Preeth, was keen on letting everyone know that he was pursuing Tara as well. Preeth was Tara’s senior in school. A bonafide bully, he had taken every opportunity to throw his weight around and assert his superiority over us, his juniors. I heard from Preeth’s classmates that he was pissed off at Thomas and I and was looking for any opportunity to strike.

I kept warning Thomas not to enrage Preeth or his cronies by taking every minute of free time and intervals to parade over to Tara’s class for a chat. Yes, I had selfish reasons for that as well, but I was concerned about my friend. I was also concerned for my own well-being as the bully gang had me in their list as well.

But, Thomas wasn’t one to be cowed by intimidation or power play. He went out of his way to annoy Preeth. Cricket net practice was hell. Preeth, unfortunately, was the captain of the college cricket team and Thomas and I were part of the team. Needless to say, all we got to do at practice was the role of ball boys.

The issue boiled over a month later. Thomas and I had completed yet another worthless net session. We didn’t get to bat or bowl again. In fact, Preeth made us run around the ground fifteen times as he felt our fitness was not up to scratch. After the fifth round, Thomas had enough and broke his run to confront Preeth.

‘I told you to run fifteen rounds,’ Preeth had a nasty little smile on his face. His cronies laughed.

‘This is bullshit, Captain!’ Thomas didn’t forget the protocol though. ‘We know why you are not letting us bat or bowl.’

‘Bullshit?’ Preeth arched his eyebrows like a 70s movie villain.

‘Yes! I’m the best batsman on the team and Ved, here is our fastest bowler. I know why you are alienating us. But, why are you sacrificing the team’s welfare for your personal vendetta?’

Preeth picked up a cricket bat, ‘Are you saying that I’m not a good captain?’

Thomas was fuming. I put a hand on his shoulder, ‘Thomas, come let’s finish the run. If the captain asks us to do something, we do it.’

Irfan, one of Preeth’s cronies, laughed and said, ‘Listen to your friend, little man. Just because you hit a couple of centuries doesn’t make you Sachin Tendulkar. The captain asked you to run. Run!’

Thomas shrugged clear of my grip and took a step forward, ‘Fuck the captain! And fuck you too.’ He spat at Irfan.

Shit! He had to say it. My mind was going into overdrive thinking of various things I could say to diffuse the situation. Many came up and my brain processed and discarded them right away. Almost every scenario I could think off ended up with us getting beaten up.

Preeth stood up, ‘I’ll give you one opportunity. You are an arrogant little shit, but you are a good batsman. As your senior, I want to thrash you like a mad dog that you are, but inside the playing field I’m your captain. I want my best batsman healthy and hungry. Apologize!’

Relief washed over me. Preeth had given us a way out. I hoped and prayed Thomas would take it.

‘I will apologize if you stop coming after Tara.’

And, yes. He had to say that.

‘Oh ho! And, why should I do that? Are you her boyfriend?’ He looked towards me and said, ‘Or, is he her boyfriend?’

Thomas was beyond rational thinking at this point, ‘How does that matter to you? I know for a fact that you are not her boyfriend.’

Ouch! I ruffled through my kit bag and came up with the keys to Thomas’ bike. I just hoped that we could get an opening to escape with minimal beating. Somewhere, I was getting annoyed that these two idiots were discussing about Tara like she was some material possession.

Preeth came dangerously close to us. I noticed that his cronies had grabbed cricket bats and stumps as well.

‘You are way out of your depth, Thomas! Tara was my junior in school. We have spent a lot of time together. So, back off as I want to take things to the next level. Last warning.’

‘Oh yeah! Then why doesn’t she spend time with you now? You are a bully, and she hates you.’

Preeth turned towards his posse, ‘Irfan, what should we do now? Conventional logic dictates that we beat the shit out of these two.’

Irfan laughed, ‘Indeed! I guess then Tara would realise that she’s been wasting her time with a couple of girls.’

‘Yeah! What she needs is a real man. I’ll show her…’

Preeth collapsed with a broken nose before he completed the sentence. Time froze still. Thomas stared at me with sheer horror in his eyes. My hands still clutched the keys to his bike. Only, they were dripping with Preeth’s blood.

‘Motherf…’ Irfan charged at me with a raised bat. I kicked him squarely in his groin and then jumped on top of him, my hands raining blows to his face. I felt a kick to my back and went sprawling on the grass. I rolled sideways to avoid the next kick, and from my prone position tripped the guy who had kicked me.

After that, things happened in a blur and I got the beating of a lifetime. Once they had recovered from their initial shock, the bullies regrouped and pummelled me with fists and legs and cricket bats. It was all over in five minutes or so, but by the time we were done I had fractures in my left arm and leg, two swollen eyes and a concussion.

Despite my concussed state, I had realised that Thomas had run away.

Now

‘So, you hit your senior?’ Maya had a dark look on her face. I didn’t like that look.

‘Yes.’

‘Because….’

‘Because, he started speaking ill about Tara.’

‘Really? Was that a good reason to attack someone, especially when you were out-numbered?’

I frowned and said, ‘Luckily, we were out-numbered. Otherwise, I would have murdered Preeth right there.’

‘Never knew you had a violent streak in you,’ Maya shook her head.

‘Neither did I, until that point in time.’

‘You know, I have heard of this incident. But, in a completely different way.’

My face displayed none of the emotions that were boiling inside, ‘Obviously, dear. But, I have those marks on my left arm and leg where my bones were broken. The metal plates inserted then are still there? Remember, you kept asking me about those marks?’

Maya hung her head down, ‘I’m sorry, Daddy-O! You did love mom a lot, didn’t you?’

‘I did!’ I went over and hugged Maya, ‘Now, don’t call me Daddy-O. Ok?’

‘Alright! What happened next?’

I smiled and said, ‘Your mom came to visit me in the hospital.’

To be continued…

I am taking my Alexa rank to the next level with Blogchatter. Come join my journey and do feel free to let me know what you think. Cheers 

My Friends of #MyFriendAlexa

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Great post!

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Nicely done!

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Yaay! job done, I’m outta here

More useless blogs to visit

Sigh!

Rinse! Repeat!!

This might sound very bitter, but hey I need to unload something off my chest. I took part in #MyFriendAlexa not only to improve my Alexa rating, but in the hope that my writing would reach more readers. That is the dream, isn’t it?

My first post got nearly 150 comments, an all time high. But, I was not anticipating the deluge of completely insincere comments like the ones listed in the rant above. I know this is a long and arduous campaign, and I know no two bloggers are alike. I might write just for the pleasure of writing, but for some, their blogs might be the sources of income. So, trust me when I say this, I’m comfortable with the fact that you are on the lookout to just improve the traffic to your blog and the other plethora of metrics which might earn you a buck or two extra.

But, what annoys the crap out of me is someone pretending to read my posts and then having the temerity to post a insincere comment. For you, this might just be a bloody chore. Not for me, my dear blogger friend. Do you know how much time I dedicated to write a story for this campaign? How much time did I spend proof- reading, editing, changing certain things etc? And then, you decide to leave a comment like ‘Great Post.’

This is nothing but purely insulting me and my writing. Not just me alone, there are many of my blogger friends who take their precious time to read and leave fantastic comments on my posts. Your two-word insincerity laced comments are a slap in their faces as well.

If you are not interested in spending 2-3 minutes reading, and a minute commenting on my story, then PLEASE DON’T COMMENT. I BEG OF YOU! Just share the link of my blog post through Twitter and be done with it. Your job is done.

My good friends at Blogchatter, while preparing the defaulters list for week 2 please make sure that you don’t take into account of the number of comments on my blog. I’d rather prefer not receiving these lip-service comments.

This post is not intended to hurt anyone. As I stated, I understand. Maybe, what I write is not something you guys even read or enjoy. Maybe, you have a ton of work each working day. Maybe, your blog and your brand is all that matters to you. Perfectly logical and completely acceptable.

Just don’t annoy me with your comments.

Thank you

Ps: I assure you that I will not leave these sorta insincere comments on your blog.

Almost Enough!

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Eight thirty in the morn

surrounded by a thousand

cars blowing their horn

Packed lunch getting soggy

Already!

Smartphone beeps

Email questioning excel

sheets and power

point presentations ready

Slog, slog

Responsibilities

come hard, hard

Twenty hours a day

spent unappreciated

Four hours of peace

Negated!

The minority majority

run on artificial

Duracell

Loans, Card payments,

Mortgages overdue

The wife wants to know

If I can teach

The kids something new!

Innards boiling

Extremities toiling

Life

In modern times

Standard norms

Preach!

Ticking

Time bomb

Inside, Hope

Nothing sharp is near

Me yet.

 

Linking with dVerse.

Penance

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I look out, and see them just standing there, not speaking, accusing, tormenting.

The bag with the money, and the gun lies on the bed.

The reason and the reason. My head starts pounding.

They are still there.

The peal grows louder.

Only option – apology.

Break. Window. Jump.

Just Another Love Story – 2

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Please read Part 1 here

26 years earlier

‘Dude, what you doing here in the library, man?’ Thomas, my best friend then, plopped with a disgusting noise into the seat next to me, earning nasty looks for the both of us from the librarian.

‘FM assignment. You done with it?’ Fluid Mechanics to me was Latin, scratch that, Latin was much easier. Latina esset facilius quam FM – there. Hence proved.

‘Forget FM, dude. The Prof is going on leave from tomorrow. Paternity leave.’ He winked, ‘Come with me, let’s go to the auditorium.’

The whole college had come alive over the last three days because of the inter-departmental cultural fest that was going on. It was the perfect setting for boys and girls to showcase their talents, and departments to ascertain bragging rights over each other. My interest in it had ended the minute I had won the first prize in Quiz (witnessed by a near empty auditorium, obviously) on the morning of the very first day.

I turned back to the horribly fat tome on Fluid Mechanics by R.K. Bansal. I think RK hated engineering students. All his books were tough and boring and almost all the universities recommended them.

Thomas, I knew, wouldn’t relent, ‘C’mon dude, Mechanical are in the lead. Our seniors won the first and second prizes in the group dance competition for men. Let’s go.’

I shook my head and started tackling a particularly vexing problem about calculating the meta-centre height of a floating body and had absolutely no intentions of moving from my place.

‘Naah, man. I’m not interested in the singing and dancing. As it is, the best singers in our college cannot hold a candle to a donkey. You go ahead.’

‘Screw them, man. I’m asking you to come for an entirely different reason. I’ll introduce you to my girl.’ He winked.

I put down my pen and looked up at my friend who had a silly grin on his face. ‘Your girl?’

Thomas nodded and said, ‘Yes sir, the pretty one from the freshers’ batch.’

‘Thomsi, when did this happen?’ I was intrigued.

‘Well, it hasn’t happened-happened yet. I have just declared to our class boys that I’m going after her and that she is their future sister-in-law.’ He added as an afterthought, ‘Yours as well’

I smiled and closed my books, ‘Have you declared your intent of pursuit to all the other departments and our seniors yet? From what I have heard about this girl, there could be tough competition ahead for you my friend.’

‘I will. But first, I need to win her over. Once that happens, they’ll back off. So, my friend, I need your help in that regard.’

Now that was surprising. Thomas was a fun, easy-going person. He was a part of the 3/3 club. The 3/3 club was some dumb thing all the guys in our college wanted to be a part of. One could qualify to the club if he was Tall, Dark, and Handsome and Thomas qualified with ease. Always ready with a joke or two, and a disarming smile, Thomas was quite the hit amongst the second-year students, especially the girls. I, on the other hand, was quiet and reserved. I was not entirely comfortable around the fairer sex and I had this annoying habit of being extremely comfortable in not opening my mouth for hours. Why did he need my help to win a girl over? I did ask him.

‘Dude, you are the cleanest, goody-goody guy in the whole bloody college. Next to you, I’ll look like a super cool dude. Not that I’m not already cool. I am…but with you next to me, I’m practically Brad Pitt.’ He winked and said, ‘No offense, eh?’

I punched his arm, ‘None taken.’ I winked back and said, ‘But I am disappointed. I thought you needed my help to charm this so-called prettiest girl of the freshers.’

Thomas snorted loudly, earning more dirty looks, ‘Dude, you cannot charm a girl. Even if someone put a gun to your head and told your life depends on charming her.’

‘Now that was uncalled for, Mr. Thomas. You wait and watch; I’ll charm a girl before you do.’

‘Haha! The end of the world will be upon us faster.’

We left the library and headed towards the auditorium. Few of our seniors were giving Thomas evil stares. Guess news of Thomas’ pursuit of happiness had become public.

‘Thomsi, you said you’d introduce me to her.’

‘Yes!’

I stopped and turned to face him, ‘One question. Have you spoken to her, yet?’

‘Oh, I did!’ He had a mischievous smile on his face, ‘Yesterday evening, in the college bus. I was joking with our batch fellows, and there she was sitting just beside me. For a moment, I was stunned. But, you know me. I never let go of an opportunity.’

‘Okay then. What did you talk about?’

‘I introduced myself, asked her to introduce herself. By the way, her name is Tara. Then I got some details about her and cracked few jokes. Oh yeah, before I forget, I asked her to sing a song for me as well. She did. Easy.’

I shook my head in disbelief, ‘You ragged her, dumb ass! What an amazing first impression you’d have made on her dude. Unbelievable!’

‘Why do you think I’m bringing you along now?’ He had the good sense to look ashamed. ‘I goofed up dude. I thought I was having fun with her, but only much later did I realise that I had been making fun of her. I need your help in the most desperate way, dude. She’d see that my best friend is a super soft guy and that will improve my standing in her eyes.’

And then, Thomas grinned, ‘I’m not just good looking, dude. I’m crazy smart too.’

‘Crazy, yeah.’ I shook my head, ‘Yet to see the smartness in you, my friend.’

Thankfully, the wannabe SP Balasubramanyams, Mohammad Rafis and Lata Mangeshkars had all departed the stage. The auditorium was packed and that meant only one thing – the girls group dance was going on. At times, we men, can be utter and totally shameless pigs. Vengaboys’ Brazil was blaring from the speakers, and a group of five girls was dancing, quite gracefully I should add, on the stage.

‘Thomsi, where’s this pretty girl of yours?’

But before he could open his mouth and confirm who I thought he’d have pointed at, I had spotted her on the stage and had fallen for her.

Now

Maya smiled. I knew that smile, it was the deceptive façade hiding a cheeky comment, which I was certain would be coming out next.

I shook my head and said, ‘C’mon! Out with it now.’

‘What?’ Her innocent voice was in stark contrast to her eyes bubbling with mischief.

‘Give it to me. What is it now?’

‘Seriously? Love at first sight?’

‘Why not?’

‘You 90s kids were so hopeless.’

‘Compared to your internet generation, our hopeless romanticism is much preferable. There was actual mystery in the romance then. Every stolen glance in the corridors, secret smiles, the one extra second you look at that special person, that first approach we made with shaking legs and leaking courage towards the one you liked knowing fully well you might get shot down, but yet a tiny little voice preaching in your ear ‘what if the answer is yes?’  the hundred silly love letters we started to write and then crumpled without completing them… I could go on. But, your generation would never know. The kids these days are quite happy swiping left or right.’

‘Haha! You look cho cute when you look grumpy.’

I rolled my eyes at her mock babyish voice. ‘So, what do you think?’

‘Classic 90s masala love triangle.’

‘Don’t underestimate the power of the masala, my dear.’

‘But still, gotta love the classics. Hero falling for the best friend’s girl.’

‘Told you it was just a normal love story!’

‘Yes, you did. Never knew you were such a nerd.’ She stifled a laugh and that made me smile. ‘No one would believe that now.’

I shrugged and wiped my hands, ‘Well, people change. Don’t they?’

For a moment she remained silent. Believe it or not, I knew exactly what was running in her mind. She looked up and gave me a strained smile, ‘Yes! People do change. So, what happened next?’

I smiled, ‘Next? I won your mom over.’

To be continued…

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Atlas Shrugs

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A baby is born

branded for big things

A bright-eyed sapling

destined for greatness

Does his parents think

a second about his wants?

 

The boy is doused

with fuel of high

expectations and burned in

the bright flame of failure

The boy dies and

from the ashes

rises the wingless phoenix

of a bitter man

 

He struggles to stand

straight under the back

breaking weight of his world

he strives to support

A modern-day Atlas

battered down like dough

 

Ceases to smile

willing himself to

go the extra mile

greys prematurely

ages gracelessly

He becomes an old man

withered and shrivelled

Is he even fifty?

 

The rat race of the

world chews him and spits

out a broken toy

full of aches and aches

 

He retires and

at last, he can put up

his feet in the sun

Or, can he?

The race has a new runner

His son.