Sunday, May 23, 2010

Chapter 3: Girl No. 2

Kids, love is like pizza. It is best when enjoyed alone with the right kind of ingredients, custom-made and most importantly, you should not rush it! Well, pizza can be enjoyed with friends pouncing on their share, speeding up the swallowing part to have more but, you know.... I couldn't think of a better example.

Keeping aside all the crushes I fostered that slowly wilted to their fate, my first and only real romance awaited me in my first year of college. It was all things great because it was the first and it had a doomed fate because if I was chalk, she was cheese. That too, not the kind of cheese that'd make my pizza crust! That makes this chapter more of an embarrassment than a story, I am writing it down just for documentation's sake.

I won't delve into the whole "who came onto whom" saga because that's pointless and I'd be a total jerk if I told everyone that SHE totally came onto me during our long train journey together for 36 hours! Well, she cried before sleeping that night and you know me, can't see a girl cry. Little I knew that some girls LIKE to cry and they actually LIKE jerks who make them cry every night. It's like "Baby, have you wept your eyes out tonight?" "No?" "Then let me call you names and teach you the meanest and rudest curse words of our times, that'd prove how much I love you..."

The drama as I later learned was a part of her daily routine. Coming to the erstwhile scenario, I took her as a damsel in distress and made her smile, laugh and tried to be her prince charming. The charm was disarmed and the prince winced once he realized what he was doing. He was actually playing part of an ad-hoc boyfriend until the real boyfriend got jealous and stopped acting up.

For every trifle reason, she used to slap my shoulder, back, head (sometimes) and ass (ok, that was once and she said sorry for that). I found it cute for a while, like a way to touch me, to connect, until my joints started hurting and I felt the need of a shield when I was with her. I am sure though, her tight slaps would have
burrowed holes through any metal shield.

And... there was something wrong with her mannerisms. If she was telling you something, it would seem like she was on stage doing a theatrical and was supposed to be loud and clear for the audience to hear. It was annoying.

She had tales about how guys kept ogling at her and how she thinks everyone ogles at her. Even her homepage read "go ogle" instead of "google". Ok, now that was a bad one. The point is, she was self obsessed basically.

Point to be noted here is that I realized all these follies in her character once it dawned upon me that she was still in love with her ex and actually liked the psychosis associated with their relation.

One day, I withdrew my contention very politely, claiming that we will always be friends (I have not called her till now and it's been 3 years)... but we are still on talking terms.

Lesson one.
Every girl that flirts with you, doesn't see a future with you.

Lesson two.
It's not necessary to reciprocate the feelings of someone if you don't feel the same way... the playground is alluring, but it doesn't feel good when you are running around the ground in your knickers and realize that the audience is laughing at you instead of clapping. Play only when it's due.

Lesson three.
No matter how awkward your break-up is and no matter how awful your partner was, you can always be friends with your ex if you can totally get her out of your head.

Kids, your dad isn't a psycho-socially healthy being either. I would dedicate one chapter on my own follies. But, until then...

More later.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Chapter 2: Girl no. 1

Kids, love is a strange commodity. In a way it's like money. If you earn it easily, it'll fade easily.

Girl no. 1 and I met online. I know in a way, that's lame. It was like a bliss. We thought alike, I made her laugh her guts out, she got all my jokes, in a way, she can be held responsible for my pathetic sense of humour. She encouraged even the most cheesiest of my jokes that I was slowly moulded into a PJ master. I am still recovering for that.

Jokes apart, I enjoyed all our telephonic late night conversations. She brought the best out of me. She gave my inner voice a ... well, voice. Somehow I realised the value of telling someone what you think. It helps you flesh out your own ideas and sometimes, midway in the narration, you realise how insipid your ideas are.

We got along well, I thought this was it. I fell for her. Turns out, all good things come with a "conditions apply" tag. Here, the case was that... uh... she liked someone else and she had so many more options. I wrapped my feelings with guilt and shoved them to some corner of my heart. A girl who is genuinely, not at all interested in you... is a huge turn off. Girls should take note, never let a guy know that you are interested in him or not. If you are, the guy will just keep you as a stand by option and if no, the guy will automatically, as a rule, move on... unless it's too late and he has already turned into a psychotic stalker.

So... she kind of loved me. Every night, before hanging up, I used to say "I love you" and she used to say "I love you too... as a friend". Well, my scuffle with this "Friend" tag continued later in my life too as you'll come to know in subsequent chapters.

It could have turned into love but, the sheer openness of our relationship ruined it. I moved to a place closer to her and suddenly, we stopped chatting... almost as if terrified that what we dreamed of, might become a reality. Maybe we liked each other as invisible telephone persons but, the thought of meeting and dating that person was too scary.

When we finally did meet, we were both friends... hopelessly in friendship with each other.

Friendship here can be defined as the relationship between a guy and a girl where both know each other too well to be interesting in knowing more and yet, wouldn't let go of each other.

More later.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Chapter 1: History


What one does about love is based on what love does to him in his early days. Love did basically nothing to me in my early days. Your dad liked a girl in school... he kept that crush for almost 5-6 years... then, the crush got fat, grew pimples and had innumerable flings. The crush ostensibly had to fade. But the things that I liked about the first crush remained hidden somewhere in my head and I am still to grow out of those.

I kind of had a tongue tie when she used to be around. I wanted to be a chatterbox but, could only be a box; all the chatter remained in my head. It'd be like she'd say something and I would have a really witty reply to that but, somehow I would either end up whispering that to myself or wasting so much time looking at her that the witty reply would become irrelevant to the current topic.

Thank God I have untangled my tongue to a certain extent now...

More later

Thursday, May 13, 2010

How I met your mother!

Love is a commodity kids, it can be collected, stored, readily dispatched at any address you wish. So, before you seal the envelope, you have to be really sure that the address you write, is right!

Through my series of encounters with this emotion, I will familiarize you with the rules of the game and also, will let you and everyone else have a peek into the romantic and not so romantic side of my brain.

Before beginning the course of our journey, I would like to set a few rules.

Rule 1- I won't be mentioning any names. They will all be Girl A, B, C and so on and I hope the list ends before we reach Z.

Rule 2- My judgement on the girls I meet will be a strictly personal judgment and I encourage you and everyone else not to be biased to anyone. I however would try to be as unbiased as humanly possible.