April Two - A Night without End - 2

“Nothing to feel bad about, but not in office; what if Vipin sir had seen it.”

The chatting on SMS had already begun. The message details showed that the message was received at 1:39 A.M., sender Kamakshi. This was a message in reply to mine in which I asked “Hope you didn’t mind me holding your hand”.

Oh, you must be wondering about who’s Vipin Sir. So let me introduce him, though you all had already met him, yes right, Vipin Sir is the same PM who introduced me to Kamakshi, assigned us the same project. I would have just killed him if he had not done so & if he had tried to flirt with her. He was a man in middle forties with ugly moustache & thick glasses. He must be having 3-4 kids at home. How the hell can he even try to flirt with a beauty like Kamakshi. She was just half his age & that bastard is still trying to flirt with her. I know all these men are bastards. They all are dogs & all run for one & the same thing from girls. But I won’t let Vipin to do any such thing. I would just kill him. I planned a conspiracy how he will meet with an accident involving a truck on his way to home & if he survived by any chance then I will throw him in the river. All these thoughts filled my mind on listening Vipin Sir’s name. But, actually Vipin was a nice guy who introduced Kamakshi to me & let us work together, giving me a chance to interact with her & to come close to her. I wanted to thank him but I wouldn’t otherwise his suspicion will turn into indemnity.

“No one will see & I don’t care even if anyone does” I replied to her message.

Her next message came with a blast “Why would you care. It’s me who’s the girl not you & it’s my integrity. You may never understand” She sounded emotional.

“Hey nothing like that honey. I understand that & respect girl’s integrity. I will take care. Don’t worry” I replied. I just hated typing SMS’s on cell phone. One need to press 5 thrice to type the letter “L” or even worse press 7 four time to type letter “S”. Such a tedious task, but I had to do that as I was chatting with a beautiful girl & it’s hard to avoid them, Girls, the most beautiful creature ever created.

“What’s your plan for tomorrow?” I asked about her plan for the weekend.

“Nothing much, you tell”, in reply to her, I invited her for a “Cup of Coffee”

We meet at Barista for the first time outside office & since then it had become a regular schedule to meet not just at weekends but even after office hours, to roam together almost everyday, till mid night sometimes & spending time together for the next 8 months.

It was already 1:40 & I had told Aarti, all about Kamakshi. Celebration for Indian Victory was still on; I heard guys hooting, crackers still bursting & what not.

“So you still love her & you never even told me about her”, Aarti said, “You never told me about another girl in your life.”

I told Aarti everything about her, even about her Birthday night when I was at Kamakshi’s place for the whole night sharing same bed with but I told her proudly that nothing happened between the two of us & that we broke up a week later.

“Yash don’t misunderstand. We should stop it here itself that’s better for both of us. I’m Sorry” That was the last message from Kamakshi, I told her.

Time 02:45

I looked at her. Her face went dull, even redder then ever & suddenly the tears rolled down her cheeks. I was astonished to see her crying; after all it was me who should have cried for losing a beautiful girl & receiving her message today, after four odd months. But No, it’s the Female Community who have got all the rights reserved.

“You’ll leave me too” she whimpered, “I know, All you Guys are dogs, you left her because you got nothing from her. I know all you guys are dogs.”

“Excuse me” I protested “Would you please mind your language” & then I told her how we broke up or I should rather say she broke up because she was a Brahmin girl, a community that I didn’t belong to. She was daughter of a Brahmin Colonel who was a strict disciplined & religious man who saw two of us dating & then he emotionally blackmailed his daughter. He wanted her to marry Nirvan, a Lieutenant in Army, his friend’s son. So she couldn’t go against her dad’s wish & her dad would never agree to our relationship, she informed and so we had to end our relationship; that’s how we broke up. I told her everything. I looked at her, she was still crying. I wiped out tears from her face & then few stupid words sounded from nowhere; I never knew how those stupid words can erupt from mine inner self.

“I can’t promise you perfection,

Because that’s not who I’m,

“I can’t promise you forever,

Because I don’t hold Fate in my hands,

“I can’t promise you Sunshine,

Because there will be Rain at times,

“I can’t promise you Happiness,

Because true Love comes with a lot of Pain,

“I can’t promise to make you Smile everyday,

Because Life knows to make us Cry,

“I can’t promise you that I will stay Strong,

Because sometimes it’s hard to give life a second chance.

I know I am not perfect,

But I Promise,

To give up whom I am,

Promise to hold your hand when Fate challenges us,

Promise to cover your Head when Rain is pouring,

Promise to heal you when in Pain,

Promise to wipe your tears when Life makes you Cry,

Promise to give you unlimited chances till the Time I die."

She cupped my lips instantaneously, breaking her silence “Don’t you ever dare to speak of Dying; I’ll kill you for that.”

“What?”

“I love you, I just Love you, I can’t live with you” She said, her face so near to mine that I could sense her breathe, she went silent & within few moments her Lips collided with mine. I took her in my arms, “I Love You Too” I said kissing her petal-soft pink lips & continued to live those moments. It was a night that India didn’t sleep, neither did we, me & Aarti. India celebrated that whole night & so did we, making love the entire night. It was a “Night without End” that India will never forget, neither will I, indeed!!!

THE END.

The Critic Me

“Yash, I am going for a bath. It will take some time for me to get ready. Till then you may read some magazines lying there” Aarti said pointing towards a shelf holding few dozens of novels, many biographies of some famous personalities & entrepreneurs and too many magazines & myriad of newspaper articles stacked in files, seemed almost like a mini library. She went to the bathroom. As Miss Sensuous had already announced that she is going to take some time to get ready, no wonder when it comes to girls, I was left with no other way so I thought of looking at her collection before having a day out with her. I was amazed reading appealing novel’s name, the name of the writers were so tough for me to even pronounce. I wondered how people read. I picked one book, checked the name, author’s name, saw its thickness & then put it back in place. I kept repeating the same until my gaze fall on a book with a Maroon cover page. I opened the book & with that I reached a page; the header of which declared “April 29, 2011” as there was a pen inside the book so by default that page appeared. I realized that it’s a Daily Diary. I had heard that many people write diary but I never knew that Aarti was one of them. Though I never like reading other peoples personal notes and diaries, still I went ahead and started reading her diary thinking I may came to discover something more of her, some hidden secrets, which I may have been kept in dark about. So I began reading……..

April 29, 2011

Dear Diary,

It was another usual day at office, not so unique. I was stuck with all those meetings & calls, this that & what not, just another hectic day! But today, I am here not to discuss about all that professional Jargon, in fact I wanted to share my experience of knowing a species of people whom I came to come across through certain fascinating incidents. Today, I came across the special ability of people who manages to find gaffe in anything & everything around.  I was so amazed at the remarkable flair that certain people are blessed with, to observe & identify each boo-boo in whatever topics that comes across them. Their vast knowledge on each & every theme, be it Movie or TV commercial, fashion or media, Bollywood or Sports, politician or whatever, these people have so much of extended knowledge of each & every arena that they can put forth their expert comments on any of them. These people are also known as “Critics”.

It first happened today during lunch hours. While I was having lunch with my colleagues, some of whom were watching TV with awesome delight, listening to music & also enjoying Pizza at the same time, that was ordered specially from Domino’s with a motive of Team building. Someone complained of not ordering from Pizza Hut, “It could have been better if it was ordered “Deep Dish” with extra cheese at least” someone else added. I was sitting facing my back towards the 31-inch LCD screen, so I couldn’t enjoy like others. Suddenly I heard something from some of my team mates that attracted my attention towards the LCD screen “What sort of crap is this? I don’t understand what these people wanted to convey?” I didn’t understand what he was referring to so I turned back to check out the same. He was passing his connoisseur comments on one of the TV commercial that I missed to watch but the next commercial that was currently playing definitely left a smile on my face in which a guy polishing his shoes asked his wife “Aaj Khane main kya hai?” in reply to which she replied cutely “Karela” & then the guy asked “Meethe main kya hai?” I was just amazed with the simplicity of the commercial & moreover the ad promoted “Dairy Milk” of which I am a huge fan since always. I decided to get a Dairy Milk after lunch & then I concentrated back on my lunch. I was amazed with the creativity of the production team behind the commercial that how smoothly they conveyed their message to the target customers & promote the product sales & why not, they are remunerated in millions for their extra ordinary creative skills.

Few moments later, another expert comment sounded, this time someone commented to the extra pounds on the belly of the girl in an Item number. I wondered of those so called perfectionists, who are blessed with exceptional ability to identify even minute error in anything, these people were strong observers.  I felt bad of being just an ordinary human though I personally felt that the girl was quite fit & well in shape. Moreover she had already proven her worth to be there, where she was today. She stands out of millions of people & moreover she has something that people could talk about of her. Millions of public watch her, listen to what she says, and reads about her; almost following her religiously. But no, I might be wrong, I thought. These “Critics” had a better understanding of the subject so I felt like saying nothing.

We had just finished our lunch when Pavitra, a charming intelligent Bengali team mate asked me something in Bengali “tumi Coke khaabe?” She unintentionally spoke in Bengali, her mother tongue but she wasn’t aware that she could be the next target to the “Critics Panel” She repeated her words in English this time asking everyone if anyone wanted to have her share of coke but it was too late & sets of question started surrounding her from nowhere. “How can be Coke (a drinkable item) be “Khaabe” & why not it be “Peebe?” Someone else asked “Why do you Bengalis use the word “Khaabe” for every eatables & drinkables as well?” The next question was even more typical to be answered “Why is it “Roshogolla” in Bengali which is simply “Rasgulla” in Hindi?” Pavitra was an intellectual with extremely calm attitude, she simply replied “It has nothing to do with non-Bengalis & you are no one to raise question to culture, language or religion of anyone. I may list out myriad of errors in everybody here, in your religion, your state, your language etc. etc... But my ethics don’t let me do so, I rather enjoy finding pleasure in anything good & appreciating the same”, her face still reflecting smile. The “Critic Panel” was speechless then. I was in awe of her that how an ordinary girl has put these experts in silence. These people who were gifted to judge anybody to everybody, their knowledge in every discipline, were speechless today & they had no answers to this ordinary girl.

One more such incident happened while I was checking my personal mails. I received a mail form one of my old college friend who informed me that she has started blogging, that sounded pretty interesting to me & I appreciated her efforts of writing. While reading her mail I got a chance to discover one more “Critic”. One of her article condemned one of the latest movie, another article of her talked about SRK’s performance in “My Name is Khan”. With that it reminded me of certain other write-ups that I had read, each one of which expressed their comments, sometimes complimenting in a rare case.

I am glad that I am not blessed with such special abilities of finding errors & to not behaving like a “Critic”. I enjoy anything good happening around & feel like appreciating it every time. I am happy to be what I am.

Aarti

“Yash!!! How dare you touch my diary? Don’t you have any personal ethics? You must know that you are not supposed to read anybody’s personal diary” Aarti’s words breezed through my ears from nowhere & the next moment she snatched the diary from my hand. I held the expression of a seven year old guy caught red-handed by his mother having orange ice stick at the road side vendor. I tried convincing her but instead she threw a gruesome look to me. I tried to defend myself “I... I was just… I didn’t read anything… please listen to me….” But I forgot the fact that girls are never programmed to listen, she said “just shut up OK”

“Hey listen to me dear, I am sorry… Can I see my sweetheart smiling?” I* said holding both of my ear-lobes.

“Just Go to Hell” she said with a witty face laying emphasis on the last word.

“We’ll go together honey. I’ll follow where ever you go” I took the diary from her hand, put it back on the shelf & added “Now would you let me to take you to The Hell?”

“What?”

“Ya, I have a better idea for today’s outing, lets booze at “The Hell” , it’s a nice pub in Sector 19 market”

She said smiling “You are a Dog, a Bastard, I am not going anywhere with you” Both of us smiled & we walked together to have a splendid day ahead.