(This is just a meager attempt of my dysfunctional mind. I am not a writer even by Sajha's standard. I hope you will kindly overlook all grammatical, structural, punctuational or thematic errors for that matter, if there are any. Any suggestions and/or comments are most welcome.)

Click here to visit the other thread for its incomplete version.

Disclaimer: All characters, places and events in this story are merely fictitious and if they bear resemblance to anything or anyone in real, let me know. We can do the paperwork for filing lawsuit over the weekend.


Random Shallow Thoughts -- The Complete Version

Part 1: Badman Begins

Hi there!
This is me, yours truly. My name is…err…well, what’s in a name? I can be Tom, Dick or Harry but there is no pertinence and significance of my name to the story that I am about to share with you. So call me Tom, if you want. Call me Harry too. Don’t call me Dick though, I have a head too. They say; sharing is caring. I don’t care but I do share anyhow. If you don’t like it, there are other more interesting places than this. Go to “chautari” or to some café. Thanks. After you, please! Honestly, I am not too fond of my place either. I think it sucks!

Oh you decided to stay on? Thanks, but good luck!

Since you are still here, let me tell you more about myself. I am just a character in this story – a nameless character, or perhaps a character with a non-significant name. I like to be known by ‘I’. I am I, the generic I. So I can be you. Yes, you! I am rude, I am mean and I am direct but I know about you too. I have seen you and your place. I have seen you in your room, your so-called study room. It’s just like mine. Now don’t raise your eyebrows and don’t ogle at your screen like that. There is a big wooden desk at the upper right corner of your study room. The table has a stack of drawers on its right and an open space underneath on its left. There is a chair as well, a big revolving one. You sit on it, bending your back against its back and stretching your legs beneath that table. You are your own boss at home. There is a laptop as well on the table. You are almost always logged into that machine which must have run for 18 straight hours a day for the last few years. Poor thing. Heard they make laptops in USA or China. This piece must have been imported directly from Mexico.

I have seen you working on your laptop as if there is no tomorrow. Sometimes you type on it like crazy. At times, I see you listening to something through the overhead phone. Perhaps The Beatles or Coldplay or Howard Stern or Condolezza Rice or David Brent and while you are at it, you make certain bodily moves; some of them are rhythmic, most of them are crazy and not even funny. You make faces too. Sometimes you smile-- those two frontal teeth remind me of my childhood friend ‘Bunny’—the rabbit and sometimes you stare at the blank screen. At times, you look tensed and stressed out as if you are holding on the call from nature; reminds me of George W. Bush during his stressful days in pursuit of Osama. All the while you are in front of your laptop, you look no different than the actor, minus the looks, who is simultaneously shooting for four different movies of different genres that demand him to emote differently—that too in quick succession. If I were one of the film critiques, I would proudly vote for you for the ‘fluke-a-demy’ award for the most versatile actor.

There is a book shelf at the upper left corner of the room. You have pretty good collection of books: some course books, lots of magazines—technical ones, few novels and books on other literary work. But you seldom read. You are lazy just like I. Last I know you were reading was when I was sleeping. You were snoring as well.

You are single and you are available. You have decent looks with a regular physique—not a mirror-cracking material by any means, but still, you are quite attractive-- more than the guy-next-door. That’s what you think and I concur. There is something about your face that I too find charming. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I am not gay. It’s just that I know you. Told you, I am you although you may not know me as yet.
You have a pretty stable job that pays you a handsome salary and gives you attractive benefits as well. You love traveling; you have a nice sports car. You live in a rental house which you are thinking of owning within a couple of years. You don’t plan but would rather take things as they come. You are adventurous--you explore and you conquer. You are reasonably smart but sometimes your thoughts are not well directed. You are lonely. You have quite a decent friend circle size but deep down inside, you are a loner. I know what you need to perk up your life: someone to share your emotions with, don’t care how stout it is but a shoulder to put your head on when you need to rest, someone to look at and smile or cry in thick and thin. Yes, a soul-mate or a partner or a wife. Oh wait a second! Perhaps no, not wife! You don’t want to get married, do you? But if there’s a perfect match, you will give your all for her. You have been looking for one. For a while. With no avail.

That’s you and I am happy for you for the most part but sometimes I pity on you. I think you deserve a better life but I cannot go overboard sympathizing your status quo. I don’t want to. I don’t want to sound like deprecating because I also am you. Yes I am a hypocrite. Remember-- I am I, the generic I and this story is about I and she. Yes she—the other character in this story. She has a name though—Protshahana. Beautiful name, isn’t it? Yes, my reaction was similar when I heard that name for the first time. I had thought: “Wow! What a beautiful name. How could the person with that name be in real? I would like to see her in person!” Perhaps that was my testosterone level speaking then. It goes berserk at times and gives you wild thoughts: shallow, random thoughts. They need direction. Direction from a potential field. Field of someone like Protshahana. But that’s again a random thought. Heck, I don’t even know her at this stage. What a weirdo!

“But Protshahana, what a lovely name!” – I feel encouraged.

* * * * * * * * * *

Part 2: Badman Continues, Goodman Comes For the Rescue

Sometimes I loathe you. You are innocent but cunning. Loveable but abhorrent. Helpful to others but helpless for yourself. Compassionate but pernicious. Funny but at inappropriate places, with wrong timing. Your sense of humor is shocking. Your jokes are bad. They are gross and derogatory. It hurts people. Protshahana was too. Remember that day? The first day you two met? It was a virtual meet but you managed to hurt her for real. That was just a start but she had known you the very first day. Known your inside. That is how it all started, didn’t it? It started. It ended. Then restarted. I don’t know where it is now.

You were working late that day. Or night rather. You had a presentation to make the next morning. Paul had stepped into your cubicle. Paul, your colleague-cum-confidante, had just gotten back that day after a week-long trip from Connecticut.

“How did the conference go?” – You had asked.

“Pretty good! They were all stuffed up towards the end. Had to rush through the final few slides.” He had chuckled. “They are impressed though. Grant renewal on its way”. He had winked. “How is it coming along?” – He had taken a short pause looking at your monitor screen.

“Awesome, I have made it as abstract as possible. Don’t understand half of the stuffs myself. They will look at each other in the question answer session” – You were that extra-over-confident, a ‘wannabe’ smarty pants as usual.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here comes Mister David Brent, oye Brent!” – He had pulled your legs and you both had giggled. “By the way, met with a Nepali girl in the conference.” –He had caught you by a sweet surprise. The mention of two things: Nepali and Girl. “Wow!” – You were glowing. The monitor had gone to the screen-saver mode. It had started displaying a series of mazes. You were into it.

“Ok. What was she doing over there?”—You had faked an indifferent tone.

“Oh she works as a research scientist for NASA, Jonhnson Space Center.” – He had started chuckling again. “She goes to the Uni we had our conference at.” – He had overridden his previous statement.

“Oh okay. What’s her name?” – You were anxious. “It’s a difficult one…pra …ti…Hold on! Lemme check” –He had taken his digital diary out from his pocket. “It’s ProT-shaa- haa-naa. I have her email address too, if you want to touch base” – He had said and you had kept smiling.

*****

That night you came back home rather late. It was almost morning. Birds had already started chirping. You hated it. It was cacophonic. You went to your restroom right away. I know you love the big mirror in there. You lit the small fluorescent light on its top. You had started to envision Protshahana. She was being reflected from the mirror. It was her image. The image that you created. It was breathtaking. She had worn a white night gown. Her hair, black with shades of burgundy, was spread over her shoulder. She was looking at you amorously. Her eyes were sensual.

“Protshahana sweetie, morning!”

“Hi Prots honey? How about a morning kiss? Not naughty like the last night ones, just on the cheeks”

“Prots, what you cooking today?”

“What you wanna eat today, Prots?”

“Prots, You raise my testosterone to infinity, shall we play for a while? Where do I start from? I like the top-down approach”

“Prots, what’s your favorite number? Mine is 68+1”

“There you go again with your erratic thoughts. All you have is just her email-id, you don’t even know her neither does she. She doesn’t even know that you exist. You exist in the misery of a lonely life. You say you are happy but you are not. You are sick. Your life is doomed. Who is Prots? Who is she? Your friend? Girl friend? Companion? Where is she? Does she breathe? What if her name was not Protshahana but some Mangala Devi, or Pampha Kumari? Does your hormone react to Shanti Devi or Som Kumari? You are a hypocrite—a real one. You let me down. I feel grossly embarrassed by you. I am leaving you. Right now. Right at this moment. You divert me away from being sane. You rot in hell for I don’t care.” – I had reddened.

You turned the light off, closed the restroom door, went back to your bedroom and off you went to bed. “Good boy!” – I had thought. I was dead tired. I went to sleep within few minutes. You woke up again though. Damn you! You booted your laptop. Logged into MSN. You added her address in your contacts. She was online too. She accepted you. Lucky you, lucky ba*tard!

“Yo!” – You went.

“Huh?” –She was perplexed. “Do I know you?”

“I guess not!”

“Who are you?”

“I am I” – You veiled your identity with mine.

“What?”

“Well, you may not know me but I know you through a common acquaintance of ours” – You were being honest. Thanks for that.

“Okay, what’s your name, where are you from?”

“I am I, and I am from nowhere”

“Arrgh….please, I don’t have time to fool around with you” – She was getting irritated. Rightly so.

“Prots, I am feeling horny. Shall I make love with your image tonight?” – There you came to your real-self.

“What? What the…how filthy! Disgusting! You are sick!”

I was snoring but it broke suddenly. You were hitting hard on something. I came back to consciousness.

“hahaha, I was just kidding, trying to pull your legs” – I typed.

“It’s not funny, okay?”

“I know, sorry if it bothered you too much”

“So who are you and how did you get my email id?”

I explained her everything. You were there with me reading each and every word I typed and those that came from the other end.

“Nice talking to you, I gotta go for now, ttyl” – It didn’t look like it would end with pleasantries when it started.

“Same here” – The feeling was mutual. I was relieved. At least it ended in a positive note. Saved me from disgrace.

You were anxious. You wanted to see how she looked like. Right at that moment. I was too, but my concern was platonic. Yours was adulterated by sensual desires, as usual. It took me a while to get you into sleep that night.

Next day was remarkable. You were unconscious and I was active.

* * * * * * * * * *

Part 3: Badman Goes to Bed, Goodman Faces the Music

The next morning, I woke up pretty late—at 9:16 AM to be exact. The cell phone alarm had betrayed once again. Hell no! It was you-- bugger! The alarm had buzzed in time--precisely at 8:05 AM-- but you wanted to sleep for more. You love that extra sleep in the morning, don’t you? Even 10 extra minutes would do. Sometimes, even five. Told you, so many times, there is no point in procrastinating. Dude, you got to do what you got to do. Oh well, only if you cared about what I said. Only if your sense would accept that I am right, most of the time. Yeah, yeah, I preach and don’t practice myself--I am a hypocrite-- but let the bloody truth be told: you are the one who makes me one—hypocrite!

I cannot compromise on few things. Late or early, cannot go to work without taking shower. It takes me seven minutes - on clock. It took me an additional couple of minutes that day to wash your filth. I was getting late. I didn’t want to take you along with me but had to drive fast, else I would never have made it to the office by 10. I drove, you accelerated. 70-75-80-85, “SLOW DOWN!” -- I yelled. You stared at me. I was looking at you from the mirror. Those wet eyeballs with protruding red arteries around the iris were proof of your aggressive intent. I backed out. I had to. You went to 90. My hands were shivering. The limit was 55. We caught a sight of two cars with flashing blue lights, chasing another car which was beginning to pull over on the right shoulder of the road. They were about half a mile ahead of us. I got startled by the scene. I jabbed at your side by my right elbow and pushed you away from my seat. I took over the control--entirely. I slowed down the car below the limit and eluded the possible danger. “Sorry!”—You murmured an apology. I kept looking at you and the road, intermittently.

You are my weakness, my aggression, a jinx. But I have to admit--without you, I become too predictable. I become bland and listless. You give me that vigor, the optimism which I need and crave for. You are my gusto, my reason for rebuke to Kapil Dev’s one liner: “I do not need to drink “boost” because you are the secret of my energy.” The only difference: while your intent is unscathed, at times, you brew potions of stratagem, betrayal and self-destruction. If I don’t bridle, you drag me beyond my limit, beyond my line of decency, beyond my mark of conscience. You tend to make me imprudent and licentious, which I hate. Well “hate” is a strong word, but I don’t care when it's you.

I could not wait for that day to be over. I wanted the earth to revolve faster in its orbit. I wanted to see the day through without much hiccups and as sooner as possible. Reason was obvious—Protshahana. I came back home before dusk. Went to the gym. Ran over the treadmill. I was pushing hard, harder for that 2.5 mile mark--0.5 mile more than my normal quota. I increased the elevation. I challenged myself. You were with me, “Prots” was on my mind and I ran faster. You made me get there. We got there together. Good job boy!

I came back home, went to the study room after the second shower of the day, sat on the chair and booted my laptop. While it was getting on, you kept beating the desk, in rhythm, with your two forefingers—as I saw, your other fingers were curled around your palms and your thumbs were inside the respective grooves from the top.

“…So ‘fastlove’ is all that I’ve got, on my mind….”-- You were singing your favorite song.

“Yeah yeah you sing well, I am impressed. Leave me with ‘her’ for a while now, will you?” – I patted on your back.

You were smiling.

*****

I signed into MSN soon after the machine was ready for use. She was online! My heart started to race. I have never understood the connection of heartbeats with talking to someone “special”. I mean, I do understand the biological phenomenon but I don’t know: Why does it have to be that way?

“That is what love is, goodfella!” – Came your response. You had never ceased to irritate me with your unsought attention-seeking attitude but on that particular instant I thought: “May be you are right.”

“Hell no! I don’t want it.” – I said to myself.

I waited for her to open up the conversation. It did not seem to be coming and I was feeling restless. “Oh, how sad!”—You giggled.

“Ssssshhhh!”

I decided to do the talking through the keyboard.

“Hi” – I broke the ice.

“Yo!” – Came the response, after a short pause. “How was your day?”

“Not bad” – I was always that reluctant-optimist in your absence. “How about yours?” – A predictable question followed the answer.

“Nothing interesting, busy as usual” – She was a part time worker and a part time graduate student, as per Paul.

“So how is your research coming along?” – Not that I was too eager to know but still.

“So far, so good. At some point I may need to look at your work” – She followed with a smiley face.

“Well mine is in bits and pieces at the moment. It will take a while to assimilate. Perhaps after a couple of months we can talk of working in synergy and stuffs. But you can count on me. Anything for you, Prots!”-- I stuck my tongue out.

The following line took some time to be typed and when it did, it took some more time to be sent.

“What’s your number?” –It came out finally, followed by two emoticons in a row—both sticking their tongues out.

It looked like it would take her forever to respond. I thought I had hastened. “FOOL!”-- I started cursing you.

“What did I do? Please, it’s completely you this time, I am not even in the picture!” – You retaliated.

As I was about to type in “Never mind, may be later”, I saw on the label right underneath the chat window: “Protshahana is typing a message”. My heart started to race even faster.

“What’s yours? Give me yours and I will give you a call instead. Is that okay?”— Came the message.

I did not want to say “No”. I thought it would not make any difference. Her number would display on my cell anyhow if she called me.

“That works too. Here I go: ***-***-****” -- I wrote. Well not exactly. In case if “you” are wondering what those asterisks mean--a quick reminder--I am sharing just my story. I am still the sole owner of all my “private stuffs”. Thanks. Let’s move on.

Before I could think of what to write next, a rush of blood came from nowhere.

“When are you calling me? Can you call me now, right now, right at this moment?” – I don’t know what made me type that. I thought you were not there. Seriously!

“Haha! Seems like you are too anxious to hear my voice” – She chuckled through her emoticon. “Calm down dude, they are in line, get there first!” – She then laughed out loud.

Arrghh…forgive me if I sound like a sexist, or may be I am one, but man, girls would forever remain girls! And what is more interesting is their larger-than-life ego--simply out of this world! I almost felt like murdering you for soliciting (literally) her for that response. Why did you have to ask her to call me right away in the first place? Could you not have been a little more patient, a bit more composed, huh?

I didn’t know whom I was mad at: You, her or myself.

“Oye, hello! Ms. Yourself, just asking if we can talk, nothing more. If you are busy serving others, I have better jobs to do as well.” -- I had known my ego for its vulnerability. It had already started to show signs of panic. My rising blood pressure level was one of them.

“Oh! Then why are you chatting with me right now, mister! Go do your job, if they are that important, irritating!” -- She was quick to pounce on me.

“Oh really? Am I the only one chatting with myself here? Who is your optometrist? Let him be told he is doing a fantastic job!” – I was that unruly as always when ticked off.

“Okay okay, calm down!” – She became submissive instantly which was quite an anticlimax really for the haughtiness she displayed a few moments back.

“I am cool” was all I could utter.

*****

My cell started singing the AT&T tune. “Private call” was all I could read on the display. I thought some phone card company wanted to eat my already-semi-eaten brain. I was literally yawning when I decided to attend it. “Hello” – I went.

“HI!” – A sound stated. Wondering why I capitalized, bolded and italicized the word? Well, that’s the closest I can write, using sajha-editor, to explain how the voice sounded like. It was weird—well, even that would be an under-statement to be honest. For a second--and this is without an ounce of exaggeration--I thought I heard some horse sniffing. It was as hoarse as hoarseness could be. Some of you may be wondering: "But don’t you find a husky voice more enticing and sexy?” Trust me, I did too. The only thing I was not sure of was which gender I assign the voice to. A husky female voice is still a female's voice. It did not sound so!

I had to look around to make sure if my cell was the only source of sound at that moment.

“Y..e..s!!??!!” – My voice was trembling.

“Chinena? Ma, Protshahana!”

Before I could stop wondering why she was Protshahana and not Protshahan, I felt an earthquake. My random guess would be, 9.8 magnitude in the Richter scale.

A long silence followed the calamity.

Soon after I recollected myself, next thing I knew was, you were already there in my bed, completely covered from head to toe inside the blanket while a small orifice that was created from a corner of the blanket was exposing your favorite finger pointed upwards. Sometimes even finger can do the talking, no? I heard it saying: “YES! Enjoy! You and your “Prots” AKA Protshahan(a) ”

* * * * * * * * * *

Part 4: Badman Sheds Tears, Goodman Laughs Hard

“Hello, do you hear me? Hello!!!”

“Yea yea, I can hear you, and only you at the moment. Tell me”

“Okay… hehe… umm…so?”

“So?....nothing…you say”

“No you say. Are you shy or something?”

“Shy? And Me? With you?... Just a bit shocked to be really honest..,hahaha”

“Shocked? Why? You thought I wouldn’t call you?”

“No, of course I had thought you would call me since you took my number but I didn’t know, even in my wildest dream, you would sound so much like Protshahana…hahaha”

“What you mean?”

“I mean you have such a beautiful voice, why don’t you sing a song for me?”

“What rubbish! As if you really want to”

“Oh I am yearning. I can KILL to hear you singing now that I know how sweet your voice sounds. Shoot!”

“Yea right! Aafno voice chahin katti na ramro jasto”

“hahaha”

*****

“So…what you doing right now?”

“Me? Nothing… just stretching my legs, feet on my bed, trying to invoke ‘you’…my machine is on my lap so I am feeling its heat…..on my lap…, you know, it feels like I am talking with my machine in person, so that means you must be quite hot”

“Okay, umm…I don’t understand what you mean by that. Shall we switch the topic?”

“Haha…What’s so difficult comprehending it? It’s the basic idea of Physics. See, essentially I am talking about heat exchange… Jeez, and I had thought you would love scientific theories hahaha!”

“Oh I can see how your scientific theories work…so, that is what you’ve been doing lately at work, ho? Very interesting…”

“Yeah exactly! I am trying to find out if heat can be transferred through radio-waves. Have you ever wondered how convenient it would be to feel your beloved ones through phones? When distance wouldn’t matter? Like, say for instance, I will touch you right now and you will feel it for real. Enticing, isn’t it?”

“Okay, I am too naïve for your so called scientific theories. May be he will understand it better. You two can talk while I will listen. Shall I add him in the conference?”

“Add whom?”

”Biraj”

“Who Biraj?”

“Biraj, my boyfriend.”

“Well, yeah sure…umm…no, wait! I think I have choked on something. Hold on for a minute. I need to cough it out. Be right back”

*****

“Okay, I am back. So where were we? Yeah, conference call.”

“Yeah. Do you want me to…?”

“Well, umm…not today, sorry, may be some other time. I need to work on few things right now so I will talk to you guys later, is that okay?’

“Okay, as you wish. You work. Bye now”

“Yeah bye.”

*****

I remember that night very vividly. I had ended the call and you had snatched the cell from my hand and switched it off. You didn’t feel like talking with anyone, anymore. You were back to your favorite location—the restroom. The flagrant mirror was reflecting your egregious image once again. Your face was lackluster and your moves were incapacitated. I could only look at you and commiserate with your state.

“Why me, why me again?” –You had begun to sob.

I rewinded the chain of events that took place that day starting from when you woke up with the filth. When I replayed them, by the time I reached the concluding scene of the night when Protshahana was insisting or rather gibing you for the conference call, I could envisage the comedy in your tragedy that you and your random shallow thoughts had brought about. My mouth widened and I started to titter. “Look at you, poor kid!” – I pointed my forefinger at you in the mirror and giggled spasmodically, and it continued as an incessant laughter for a while thereafter.

You were broken down. “Why does she have to be taken, why?” – You frowned and your lips began to bend downwards. It was not a pleasant sight to see you weeping but I had seen you in pain, agony and reclusion before, so it did not come to me as a surprise. “Let it go boy!” – I fondled your head.

*****

Everything about you is fleeting. Not only your thoughts, but your emotions are also fickle. It did not take you long to come back to normalcy that night. “….I found that love is no friend of mine; I should have known time after time…” You listened to Gary Moore for more than five times in a row. You were as anxious to get over Protshahana as you were to talk to her when you first heard of her from Paul.

For next five days, you tried keeping yourself away from your laptop--MSN in particular. She came and away she went; far away, leaving your sensuous desires unfulfilled, your secluded, secret dreams unfolded. I had known your paltriness, your parsimonious attitude and this was just another instance of your involuntary, frugal impulse. Forgetting her was as easy as counting down from three to one – 3, 2, 1 and boom! There you go! She was out of your mind. For good.

“Why do you want to stay away from her? Why are you ignoring her?” – I had asked you on the sixth day.

“What is there to talk for? I don’t see any scope.” – You were blunt.

“Why? Just because she is already taken? Does that make her less eligible for a friendship? Is she lesser good a person when treated as a friend? ” – I had questioned to which you shrugged your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, friends forever. Bullsh*it! I don’t want to shed my emotions for an unworthy cause. Period. You go ahead and do whatever you feel like, I am outta your way” – You were hell-bent on your stance.

****

It did not take me long to sign into MSN once you left. I had thought she would be online, but she was not. I stayed online--basically, waited for her to show up. She did. Eventually. Just some three hours later.

“Hi” – She had started the conversation.

We talked about many things that night. I, minus you, was always cordial and she could only be genial in response to it. My guesses about Protshahana were as good as Paul’s. We just had one interaction under our belt of experience about each other.

“Where did you do your schooling from?” – She had asked inquisitively.

I answered her honestly.

“Really? I went there too” – She was as much surprised as was I. “Which batch?”

We got bored typing out the stuffs we wanted to say for each other. She asked and then gave me a call which I had no hesitation in attending. This time her number was displaying on my cell phone. “Thanks, at least now you trust me a bit more than before” – I had thought.

As we further delved into the matter, we came to know that she was just a couple of batches younger to mine. We were in the same house while in the school and more interestingly in the same team, yes in the same team, that once won the inter-house quiz competition back in our good old days when she was in grade eight and I was in the tenth.

“I don’t remember your face very clearly but I do remember you somehow as a person. You were a little girl, too short for an eighth grade girl to be really honest. You used to braid your hairs into two sideway pony-tails that used to hang behind your shoulders. The oil that you used to put on it had a peculiar smell though. It used to smell like a rotten egg really” – I said giggling intermittently.

“Ufff… as if I will believe you completely. I don’t remember you that much clearly either. But I remember, you were the captain of our team and although you contributed pretty well, if it wasn’t for my answer to the last question, we would have lost it, remember?” – She remembered more than I could ever think of, probably because she had displayed some histrionics in the event towards the end.

“Yeah yeah, that’s one more and a very important thing I remember about you. To my surprise, I had found that you were pretty smart. Didn’t seem like when I saw you first time though. Sometimes looks can be deceiving” – I had laughed out loud.

The phony rendezvous went more smoothly as we found common things between us to talk about. We talked about our inmates, favorite teachers, obnoxious teachers, friends, good friends, dear friends and families. New movies, old flicks, classical, waltz, rock, hip-hop and blues. Girija, Prachanda, Paras, Gyanendra and Himani. Obama, Hillary, Guiliani and Bush. Apple martini, Sparkling wine, Chai latte, French vanilla, Tiramisu and Cheesecakes.

“How is Biraj? What does he do?” – I had asked her when there was nothing I could think of to talk about.

“Oh he is doing good. He works for IBM in North Virginia. IT project manager.” – She had replied.

“Manager? Must be bald and boring. How did he come across your stinky, braided pony tails?” – I was trying to be funny but I knew I had acquired some shades from you in asking that question.

“How rude! You haven’t even seen him.”

“Haha! How did you guys meet?”

“Well, we first saw each other at a wedding party in Oregon last winter. He was there to work on a project and I had gone there to attend the marriage ceremnony of my cousin sister.”

“Was it a love at first sight?” – I was inquisitive and direct.

“Kind of. More so for him though. He was attracted to me, to my charming personality. Well, that’s what he still says…” – I could not see her but I was sure she must be smiling at that moment. Not to mention her proud and bulging nose.

“What about you?” – I had asked.

“Well, he was good looking and a smart guy as well. He proposed me over the phone after I came back from the wedding party. We had exchanged our numbers in the party. I said I would think about it. After a couple of days, he called me again and I said yes.” – Her voice sounds pretty excited in explaining the events that brought them together.

“Was it that easy? If things click at that rate, even I can fancy proposing you right now, what do you say? Haha!” – I tried to test her.

“Yea right! Like I will go after serving all the desperate ones, hoina ta?” – She had replied.

* * * * * * * * * *

It's not complete yet, is it ?   --liked your disclaimer

Part 5: Badman Returns, Shakes Hand with Goodman

My friendship with Protshahana went on a cruise control mode thereafter. The road for us was wide enough but tiny was the margin of error as we had given a tacit approval to each other to not change the lane or the speed -- there was neither a need of it nor a peer pressure of any sorts for any undue changes. We had a life-long drive ahead and I knew, and I thought you did too, that our journey was going to be a smooth one devoid of any bumpy ride. The only potential menace was your random and shallow thoughts but you too were made to accept the bitter fact that she belonged to somebody else and that I being the rock of Gibraltar in-between would not let any of your erratic thoughts to get mentioned, let alone materialize.

But life is just a series of crests and troughs, isn’t it? More interestingly, you don't know whether you're in a trough until you are climbing out, or on a peak until you are coming down. They come in little packages of surprises and shocks. You never know what's round the corner. But it's all good. As Dolly Parton had put: if you want the rainbow, you've gotta put up with the rain.

“Am I a bad girl?” – She had put me in discomfort that day during what I thought was just another normal chit-chatting hour over the phone.

“Yes you are! Very bad, in-fact very, very bad, grotesque, YUCK! ” – I had tried taking the question with levity.

“No, be honest! I think they don’t trust me. It’s either just me or all of them. Biraj I thought was an exception but even he thinks I need to change if I want him to be with me” – Her voice was seeking for more seriousness in my part.

“What’s the matter? Will you elaborate? If you’ve still missed, I have a thick corpus callosum for serious issues.”

“I don’t think I will be able to tell you everything over the phone. It hurts. Can you come online? I think it’s more comfortable for me.”

****

Over MSN, she told me how the trust factor between them had started to enfeeble because of a misunderstanding. “Men are always the same!” – She had concluded in the end. Did it bother your ego? It did mine. I would say my self respect. There is a thin line between the two.

Au contraire, I found that her indiscreet remarks and reckless actions -- albeit in her oblivion-- had also played some part in widening the already widened rift between the duo due to the misunderstanding.

“You wouldn’t know what you lost, until you actually lose it. Why weren’t you guys talking with each other on the issue for so long?” – I had asked her after knowing that they were in a different page for more than a month.

“I don’t know, I wanted him to realize it was his mistake”

“And what made you think that you were completely unstained?”

“I am a girl. He should give me the benefit of doubts. And it’s men who should make up”

“Hmmm… quite interesting. Sort of rules eh? But, to me, that’s being a sexist” – I was honest with my opinion.

“Oh I am done with all this. I think I am happier being single. I love him but I cannot live with someone who would put up a fight on petty stuffs. I am so done with it! I don’t believe in it anymore”

Her sudden impulsive response had me in splits even after knowing the gravity of the issue.

“Ha ha ha! And you thought you were in love, didn’t you? I don’t understand more than half of these kids who say they’re in a relationship. Have seen their facebook profiles. The status keeps changing in every 2 weeks. Not a problem Protshahana. Another kid on the block and life moves on! Ha ha ha!”

“Very funny. I thought you would at least understand me if not sympathize and look at you!”

“No I am serious. I am thinking of a story too. Think I should find a producer and get it done once and for all. Would make a blockbuster. Do you want to know the title? ‘Biru Prots – A tale about two kids’. Oscar, golden globe --you name it ha ha ha! ”

*****

“Wow! Perfect. What a timing! Where were you all these days? I had tried to alleviate her pain but you had to intrude your sorry face with your repugnant sense of humor. I knew her break-up news could only come to you as a sweet breeze for a reentry into prurience, no? Listen dude! She is my friend. She’s feeling the pain from a rough love ride. I am her confidante. It’s been months we’ve been talking to each other. She is broken. Let me help her find herself in one piece. Let me help her help herself to stand on her feet. May I? Could you please hibernate for few more weeks?” – I had said.

“Calm down dude. I am not asking for your favor either. All these days I let you sail along with her. I was not even looking at you, not even in the picture myself. Now I am gonna be around just to make sure we all are in the same page.” – You were as stubborn as ever.

“Whatever! But take my words: if any of your actions puts me or her in an uncomfortable situation, I am gonna suck the last drop of blood out of you. Am I understood?” – I was not a lesser obstinate either.

*****

Weeks went by and I thought Protshahana’s wound, for what it’s worth, has healed over for the most part. It’s easier to get over the person himself than the memories associated with him. When we think of a person, in retrospect, we tend to associate them with good, bad, fond or distasteful memories associated with them, shared with them. It could be an event or just a moment. The moments make memories and memories define the image of the person in our mind. Even when the memory is fading away with time; when we go through the similar ride again, it gives us the feel of a déjà vu and the person’s image starts to play in the mind again. It bothers. It flails your ego. It becomes doubly difficult to get over the past with a person. It haunts you again and again. Memories of a lost person hurt more than the person himself.

“It’s difficult to forget him completely. There are so many memories I have of him” – Protshahana had told me when asked if she had gotten over it.

“I can understand your plight but don’t get too emotional with the bygone days that you end up missing out on stuffs that’s there at your present. You cannot ruin your present for the past. If you still love him, and if he’s there, go get him. If not, leave it behind, live with the present.” – I was never frugal with suggestions although preachy at many times.

“I am trying my best and I need some time”

“That’s more like you. Umm…I have a small surprise for you by the way and I hope it’s a pleasant one” – I wanted to cheer up her mood.

“What is it?”

“I am coming to your town for a meeting with my colleagues. I have a whole weekend with nothing to do so I guess we can meet with each other in person” – I was all excited already.

“That’s pretty good news. Let me know once you’re here. Give me a call or something and I will see what we can do about it” – She had said.

“But we haven’t even seen each other. Don’t get petrified if you find me physically grotesque. They say I am pretty horrible when it comes to looks ha ha ha!”

“No that’s okay. Doesn’t matter to me a bit”

“What you mean by okay? I sense that you are even worse ha ha!”

“Does it even matter to you? I have many friends-- some are good looking some are okay. That doesn’t change the way we treat each other as friends.” – She was spot on.

“Hey do you have a facebook?”

“Of course I do. Why? You want to add me and make sure how I look like before I meet with you?”

“Well yeah..but …well leave it. Our friendship is more than two months old and we’ve still not seen each other. Let’s make it like this for few more days. Sometimes, curiosity servers better when kept alive for longer, no?” – I wrote with a smile.

*****

I was pretty excited about the prospect of a personal rendezvous with Protshahana. After all, what more could I have asked for? Two months ago I didn’t even know that she existed but then time’s tide had other ideas. It separates people and introduces new faces to their lives-- some for a better cause while some may even prove fatal to the fate of others. Not all actions of life have causal relationships. I wish they had. At least we could know why they had to happen in the first place. But I like surprises, don’t you? I find them sweet coz they add a lot of meaning and relish to our otherwise insipid life. Some incidents are better off when left inexplicable. If you try to find the meaning, you’re risking their significance. I had taken Protshahana as a surprise to my life. I didn’t know if it was a pleasant or a shocking one though.

I was on the same boat with Protshahana in many respects. We were anonymous personally but we had a strong virtual affinity for each other. In spite of some cold moments, where we might have, in the worst case, called names, we had a good amount of respect for each other. We both were highly unpredictable. I was too romantic--way too romantic to be true at times, while she had decided to turn her cold shoulder to anything which bakes romanticism to her life. If I found a song romantic and worth sharing with her in my own croaked voice, she would quickly override it with her own choice of tragic ones in the line of the great tragedy king--Devdas.

“ Uff…Maar Daala !” – I would think.

****

“Hey I am coming with you but I swear I won’t let you down by doing anything stupid” – You were as excited as I about the meeting with Protshahana.

I didn’t know how to react to Protshahana at the outset of the meeting. “Shall I hug her? Shake my hand with hers?” – I was asking myself. We had decided to meet in a restaurant. I was never a big fan of oriental food except for Japanese and some Vietnamese but she seemed to be a die hard fan of Thai food and a true connoisseur of Pad Thai. “We’ll go to Thai” – She had told me over the phone without asking me my preferences.

I quickly shaved my beard leaving a goatee in the chin just to give some fierce manliness to my otherwise innocent looks, took a quick shower and dressed myself casually in jeans, shirt and a furred denim jacket. I put some gel and raised my hair into spikes but later realized that I was looking like a Baboin in the mirror. I combed it normally without hesitating for a second. I knew you were having a good laugh at me at that moment.

It didn’t take me long to reach the restaurant. “I must have gotten a speed ticket if it wasn’t for a noble cause” – I had thought. My heart had already started to beat faster. I was waiting for her outside in the parking lot looking for a Nepali-like face although I was not sure what really to expect for.

“Hey!” – I heard a familiar voice somewhere from my behind while I was still looking towards the front in the parking lot. I turned around and saw a girl dressed in black pant and gray over-coat coming towards me. Her pointed heels were making sounds of her arrival which grew louder and louder and louder as she approached towards me. As she came closer, I could see her face more clearly and figure out its attributes: a reasonably fair, cute round face with big black eyes that had traces of kohl around them, thin lips which was beginning to bend upwards for a smile albeit not devoid of some tension and an average body but more towards the slim range. I was wowed. But before I could think further I noticed her big, long nose that was slightly curved downwards like that of a parrot. It protruded proudly from the cute face as if to give the signature recognition to where the face actually originated from: the land of Everest!

“Damn! She’s hot!” – I had heard you whisper.

“Yeah, and all I can see is her nose.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Part 6: The Almost Invincible Badman

There was some tension in the air. To tell you the truth, I was feeling a bit nervous-- perhaps awkward. I had never met anyone previously under similar circumstances with Protshahana. The only respite came to me when I noticed that she was looking even more nervous than I possibly was. There was some confusion written over her face-- in her expressions-- some of which were indicating that she was a bit petrified-- definitely! “Perhaps she didn’t like my face” – I had thought. “Or perhaps she got bowled over?”—You had grinned. I didn’t know. Knowing you, she might have thought: “Okay, I met with this guy, now what is he gonna do to me? I hope I am safe.”

True, we already had built a good rapport with each other, but for the most part—in virtual world. In reality, things come a little differently. You see the face of the person and its geometry. Her eyes would look into yours-- sometimes they would try to avoid your presence and sometimes they would look at you stealthily, give you a glance or two. Things you speak over the phone or write through the keyboard would not come out naturally from your mouth when eyes intervene and try to do the talking simultaneously. It’s quite difficult to co-ordinate the eyes and mouth actions you know. Eyes are more honest than mouth. It’s easier to speak up what you don’t mean but it’s harder to conceal your true feelings that your eyes portray with honesty.

“Go hug her, my friend. Your love has finally arrived!” – You had giggled.

“No I think I will save myself and her from the awkwardness” – I had made up my mind. I came as close to her as possible without giving any hints of my intent to embrace her. I guess I must have smiled at her—not sure if it had traces of nerves though.

“Hi…. where did you park your car?” – She said and gave me a big smile.

That was the first time I saw her smiling. Imagine a dry fall which comes to a life all of a sudden when they divert water into it from a dam reservoir. The sight was pretty much the same. It was breathtaking. It would make a ruthless serial murderer think twice before an assault. I was just her mere victim. You were already dead.

“Do you still care about her nose?” – You had felt the same.

We went inside the restaurant but who would want to eat? I just wished if the time could stop, if everything would go stand-still and I could just keep looking at her, keep looking at my Protshahana--My Prots. My dream. My love. My life. It was a great feeling to see all four at one place, in one package, right there, right in front.

“Tu mere saamne, main tere saamne, tujhe dekhu ke pyar karun” – You are too “filmi” at times. But I liked the line that you recalled then. It was perfectly fitting.

“Gosh! I don’t want to eat anything, don’t’ want to get distracted!” – I was thinking and you had nodded for an approval.

“What do you wanna eat?” – She had blurted as if she knew I was against her idea.

“Ummm…I don’t know, let’s wait for the menu, we’ll see” – I had said with a soft voice.

“I am too hungry. I worked like crazy today, you know. Didn’t get a chance to eat proper lunch too. I am starving” – She made a cry-baby face. I could visibly notice some childish instinct in it. Felt a little bad for her albeit I knew she was exaggerating her starvation a bit.

And guess what happened next!

She ordered three different entrees, yes THREE: one for me, TWO for herself. I had never seen a girl ordering two entrees in one meal. Never in my life. And I have dined with some of the huge ladies mind you, and she was just 5’ 6”--with a four-inch heel that is!

“Where’s your head-office at? Somalia?” – I had asked her inquisitively.

“No! Oak Ridge, stupid! Didn’t I tell you?”

Who is stupid? Did she get where I was coming from?

“Oh okay, Oak Ridge of Somalia.” – I was still at it.

“Ufff”

“I am kinda full though, I may not be able to eat it all and I hate taking boxes home” – I had said.

“Don’t worry, share with me if you can’t finish it” – She had quickly blurted.

“Yeah sure”

“ Ha ha ha! Absolutely Flabu-lous!” – You were laughing at us.

*****

When I was done eating my share, she started with her second dish. “My grandmom would be really happy, if she was with us” – I thought. “Never talk while eating babu, it’s a bad habit!” –She used to say.

“So, how’s life?” – I asked her after an agonizing twenty minutes of silence. The only stuffs that were doing a little bit of talking until then were her fork and knife but before I could finish the question, I was already repenting for asking. Know why? She had put two shrimps--yes two—and at once-- in her mouth. She nodded indicating she was coming to my question and it would take a while before she could dispatch the poor animals to her oesophagus en route to her what seemed like an ever ravenous stomach!

“Pretty normal.” -- She said once she completed the last rites on the animals. “Did you like the food? Kasto mitho hai? Didn’t I say you will love it?”

I could only smile at her monologues. “Foodie chirping canary!” – I thought.

*****

“Oh man, this is not going anywhere!” – You were anxious. “If you can’t engage her, let me do the honor”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Nothing, just wait and watch”

“I doubt. It’s basically a bad idea to ask for a date in a restaurant, if your girl is foodie. I made a mistake. I should have told her ‘no’”

“Buddy, you can still make it. Have some confidence on me. Now if I may?”

*****

She seemed happy after the meal. Her face looked more radiant, her smile as charming as the first one and her eyes more engaging than before.

“Okay, at least she won’t be cranky now, even if she doesn’t like you proposing to her. Worst case, she will burp and that will be it” – You had whispered.

“Ani, what’s new? When are you going back?” – She was wiping her mouth one last time with her own handkerchief.

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know. You want to see me gone already? It depends on you though.” – You had come into the picture and with a big, proud smile.

“What do you mean?” – Her big eyes had become even bigger.

You kept looking at her, smiled and said: “Well, it depends. Whenever you will yield”

“What yield? Are you expecting something from me?” – She was looking confused.

“Hmmm…good question. Not expecting anything per se but I would love you to be at the same side of the table right next to me, when we go to a restaurant next time.” You had displayed your big frontal-white-sparkling set.

“Very funny. Umm…I think it’s gonna rain tonight. They have also predicted snowfall. Don’t forget to stay warm. This place can become really nasty.” – She had swayed from your subject matter.

“Oh. Thanks for the reminder. My wife couldn’t be more concerned if I were married. Would you care the same way about your would-be-husband?” -- You were still smiling and testing her.

“Oh yeah? As if…”

“As if what? You never know. Who could say for sure that I didn’t meet with my would-be-wife today? Could you? -- You had started giggling.

“Yeah yeah. Yadi yadi yada. And I will totally fall for you. Yeah right. And how would I know you’re not joking? And you’re laughing as well. Look at you!” – She had pretended a stern look.

“Oh! If it takes a serious-me to believe what I am saying is coming right from the bottom from my heart then here I go: I love you, pa pa pa pa pa Prots!” – You had that naughty smile on your face. I, for one, would not believe you if I were Protshahana.

“Yeah I know, it’s from the movie Darr but you ain’t Shahrukh!”—She had burst into a laugh.

“And you think you are the only Juhi here? Ha ha ha ha”

“Whatever”

“No what do you think? Seriously!” – You were hell bent in your cause.

*****

“Oye! Nincompoop! Now don’t you think that’s a bit too much? ‘Seriously’? My a$$! It’s just your first meeting and you want her to get head over heels for you? Someone has a bit too much expectation here but that’s not possible, my friend. Not even in movies.” –I knew what I was talking about.

“And at your rate, it will take you forever to make her yours, Mr. test player! Declare your inning before you run out of time. You can defend it. You are a good total!”

******

My cell started ringing. “Wrong timing” – I had thought. I switched it off.

“Can I have a look at you cell?” – She had stretched her hand and I had to give the gadget to her.

“Nice! But why your picture in the screen background?” – She had started laughing.

“Well, it’s MY cell phone. And I am single, if you’ve forgotten. Would put my girl’s if I were not” – I had said with a smile.

“You are single doesn’t mean you have to put your own sorry face in it, now does it? Haha! You can put some god’s picture or a scenic picture for that matter. Chhi, it’s too gay, putting your own pic. Katti afno matra anuhar herne hola”—She was honest but at the same time pulling my leg as well.

“Yeah I like my face. Makes me feel: ‘Wow, that’s me’, everytime I see it. Ha ha ha. And how can you say that? I could be an atheist and not too fanatical about nature as well. But since you didn’t like it, what if I put your picture in it, will that make you happier? It will certainly as far as I am concerned” – You had tested her again with that naughty smile of yours.

“Yeah keep dreaming. Oh God, it’s too late. I have to go back home. My cousin sister is coming over to my place this evening. Let’s leave now” – She had ducked it drinking last few sips of water from her glass.

****

We came back to the parking lot. I didn’t know what to say to her in the end before parting. You were confused as well or so I had thought. I wanted to tell her everything but then I couldn’t stop thinking: “It will be insane. We just met for the first time.”

“Nothing is insane about it. You guys have been talking for a while and you know each other pretty well. Most importantly, I liked her. I think I like her more than you do now. You are just hopelessly analytical and I care a damn about it. Get stuck on her nose for all I care. I want her and I will make her mine. At any cost” –You had whispered your adamant stance to me.

“Well, it was nice talking to you. Thanks for coming” – She said finally.

“Thanks for having me” – I was grinning.

“Yeah and don’t forget to consider on few things that I said” – You had interrupted.

“What things?” – She was buttoning her coat. It was getting colder. Chill wind had begun to blow making it even worse.

“About you and me”

“Oh, please! Don’t be too serious. You know what I am going through, don’t you? I don’t want anything from anybody at this stage. You should know it better. It’s not about you. But I am not just ready for anything of that sort.”

“I guess I know it. Take your time. No hurry. No worries.”

“Please don’t expect anything from me. I don’t want to see you get hurt” – There was some fierceness that I saw in her eyes and so you did. It flailed at your ego, didn’t it?

“Now don’t say that. Whether I am expecting anything from you or not, is up to me. My expectations are within me. I won’t impose them on you. You can avoid me, ignore me but you cannot stop from being loved.” – You were not less fierce either.

“Whatever. I am getting late. I will talk to you later. Bye” – And then she left.

You left too. You had all the “filmi” songs in your collection, no? I know you were listening to that song forever and ever while driving back.

“Maanga lunga tujhe aashman se, chhin lunga tujhe ish jahan se, tu haan kar, ya naa kar…” -- You were lip syncing with the original number. I was seeing your menacingly wild eyes in the mirror. I didn't know what would happen next.

* * * * * * * * * *

Part 7: The Final Encounter

“A philosopher once wrote, you need three things to have a good life. One-- a meaningful relationship, two--a decent job of work and three-- to make a difference. And it was always that third one that stressed me-- to make a difference. And I realize that I do. Every day, we all do. It’s how we interact, with our fellow man.”

--David Brent

I have known you for your haughtiness and insolence – it’s remarkable--of course in a negative way. You tend to overawe people with your imperious scowl although most of the times you just fake it. There is a subtle cuteness about it but not everybody comprehends it--not all the time. What’s more, a stern face doesn’t help albeit made in levity. Perhaps a smile or two would be more effective for your cause. Smiles transmit. They make people around you happier. They give them reasons to smile back at you. They work in your advantage. Told you so many times, when you become extraneously self-indulgent, you tend to miss what others feel and think about you. You think you are cute. You think you have that starry appeal in your personality. You think you are potentially a heartthrob. Well, let me tell you – come to the ground in terms of reality my friend, you have been flying too high for far too long. You have enough gray matter but your ignorance about what others think of you and what you actually are negates that fact as well. Sometimes I feel sorry for you.

I knew for a fact that your ego was marred when Protshahana did not welcome your initiatives. You had thought you were some rock-star whom chicks would go gaga over. May be for some girls, until they know you close enough, you still are; but not for all and definitely not for Protshahana. Let’s face it--you are no right match for her! Yes, read it- R-I-G-H-T. Rightness brings harmony. It triggers resonance. It gives unison. Two perfect persons don’t always make a perfect match. She either didn’t get your signal or didn’t like its frequency. It could well be that she didn’t like the transmitter where it originated from in the first place. Oh! That hurts, right? Aww…poor boy! Yes it does. I feel the same. But I am not going to cry a river like you tend to do. I am not going to shed a drop of tear for someone who is not yours in the first place. Who are you mad at? Let her loose. Let her go. If she has to be yours, she will come back to you. You didn’t even know that she existed before you came to know about her a couple of months ago. Just forget what happened in the last two months. Go on-- move on with your life!

“Why do I love her?” – You had asked me in the cutest tone I had ever heard in your voice.

“Awww… you poor little thing!” -- I wished I had known the answer when you had asked. “Perhaps you don’t! Yes you don’t love her. It’s just a feeling that’s gonna go away in a week or two. It’s all shallow as I see, my friend. Love needs time to grow. You met her just once. That’s not enough. How do you rate a person whom you have met just once or twice in your life? It took me years to know you and I still don’t think I completely understand you. And you’re asking about a couple of month long story?”

“I don’t understand your logic. Let’s not talk logic. Screw logic! What I know is that I am telling you what I am feeling right now. She is all I can think of. I am head over heels for her if that’s hard for you to admit!” – You had retaliated.

“Head over heels for a person you know for few weeks? How stupid can you get than that? Jeez, where does it even come from? You are infatuated. And trust me, it’s fleeting. Two weeks down the line, you would be laughing at yourself!” – I had tried to convince.

“And may I ask why are you shying away from the fact that you too love her? It was not just me. Don’t forget, you were also there with me in harboring the dream of a love life with her. It’s just that it took me a while to realize that I love her and I know what I am upto. Now no further chiming in!” – You had lifted the cell phone from the table and I had known right at the moment who you were going to call.

“Don’t be stupid. Leave her alone! Jeez! This is not even funny!”

“SSSHHHHH!!!...May I?”

****

“Hello”

“Hello”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“It’s me, umm…sorry if I disturbed you, but there’s something important I need to tell you”

“Are you alright? ….It’s 1:26…”

“Yeah I am…well… I guess I am”

“Then why are you still awake? Gosh, I had to sleep early tonight. Couldn’t resist the coffee and now it killed all my sleep. Yeah… tell me, go on”

“Umm…okay, I need an honest answer for this. What do you think about me?” – It did not take you long to come to the point.

“Think about you? As in?”

“Well, I think ….I think I am falling for you. Is the feeling mutual?”

“Hahaha… Are you serious?”

“I couldn’t be more serious than this. If there is anything I have felt to be dead serious about, it is this--the moment of truth. Take it whichever way you want, but girl, I dream of a life with you. You and I make an awesome couple, do you know that?” – There you went. How could you even sound so confident about it? I would never understand.

“Khai…” – She had muttered.

You were still at it- reminded me of the last warrior fighting for his life.

“You look beautiful when there aren’t any dark circles under your eyes, when I skip the fact that nose is a part of a face, when I don’t see the spongy cushion protruding from right underneath your belly button—I love the looks of a pregnant woman for that matter. When we are together, they won’t even doubt my masculinity. What’s more, as long as you allow me to reach your stomach, I don’t even need pillows while sleeping. It will save me 35.93 bucks—the cost of the pillow I bought from the Target store last time. I look smashingly handsome when I wear a formula one helmet—that’s all I need to do to match up with your beauty. You are mostly serious but I come up with lots of dramas that are sometimes funny, mostly pathetic. We don’t even need to go to movies--our house itself will serve as a Regal Theater as it will play live movies throughout our lifetime and who better actors than we? I am spontaneous, you are thoughtful. When I am thoughtful, you won’t even understand more than half of the stuffs I will be saying—probably you will go to sleep. We both are childish – knowing us, we don’t even need kids until we both are into late thirties. We will have all the time in our life to save money for our kids’ college education. We won’t even miss having kids. I will sleep on your lap and you will sing a lullaby for me. I will do the same if you feel the urge of being childish. We both are impulsive. We don’t need a reason to kiss or slap each other. If you dump me, I will dump you too. End of the story. If you love me, I will love you more than you do. For sure”

You just went on and on.

“I have also thought of the name for our first daughter. The first half is the first half of my name and the second half is the second half of yours. It’s a perfect name. We will have its copyright. I will sue the parents who dare use this name for their kids. I hope our daughter will inherit eyes from yours, nose from mine, lower lip from yours coz it is thin, upper from mine coz it is thick. That way she will acquire smile from both of us and it’s gonna be one killer smile. As for brain, she will take only the left half from mine—the right half of mine, as you know by now, is full of filth. So the right half will go from yours coz the left half of yours doesn’t even work. I don’t expect her to be smarter than me, but I don’t want her to be stupider than you. I don’t want her to be nerdy like at times I tend to be. So there! Let’s be together--together, forever. Next life, if there is, I will still come to you. Perhaps I will come up with a better proposal then. Know why? I read somewhere that with evolution; the shape of the nose tends to get better. I will have more enthusiasm then. It’s 1:30 and I can’t think of a better way to propose to you as I am already drowsy. Do you like the offer-- Yes or No? If yes—don’t say a word and I will sing a song for you and if no—hang up right now!”

Exactly three seconds after your ramblings were over, the line had got disconnected.

“Hahaha. So you got the answer?” – I couldn’t stop laughing. Little did I know then that it was just the poor signal and nothing deliberate about the disconnection. The cell phone started ringing again.

“Hello” – You went.

“Hahahaha…Oh my god, I am still laughing hard! What was that long commentary for? Are you high on alcohol or something?”

“Yes. But I am high on you. Believe me, I mean each and every word of it”

“You gotta be kidding. I have already told you about it. Jeez, why are you being so childish?”

“Let me remain childish then. There is a kid in every man if you don’t know it already. There are some emotions which drive us and make us crazy. I am crazy for you. I have never felt like this before. You are my destiny. I am seeing it already. Imagine a Caribbean island—we will own it one day. You and I will dance by the sea shore. I like reggae. Bob is one of my favorites. Is this love; is this love that I am feeling?”

“Shut up! You don’t even know me completely.”

“Then tell me, help me understand you better.”

“Ufff…don’t be so impulsive. Why are you hurrying on things? I am not going anywhere, now am I?”

“I know. But why delay the inevitable? What if I start finding your nose obnoxiously unattractive all of a sudden? Hahaha”

“Then be it. You are really shallow. I know people like you, getting in love one day and getting out of it the very next day. Let me ask you something: Are you after me just because you needed someone? What if some xyz instead of me? I bet you would have felt no differently.”

“I don’t know. Your eyes are really engaging. I close my eyes and they start looking at me amorously. They tease me even when I am working on something serious.”

“What if she had better looking eyes?”

“I will still choose yours.”

“Why?”

“It’s your eyes.”

“What about me?”

“What about you? You are mine” – You had that wide grin on your face.

“Ufff…back to the same darn old place. I think you are hopelessly romantic. You need a day or two to relax and think further. Don’t be shallow. Take your time. You are a good guy. I am sure you can do it better. Try to think maturely. Go to bed for now”

“Whatever. It’s not gonna change the way I see you. The way you have occupied place in my heart. You’re all over it. Come back to me after 10 years and ask me the same question, the answer will be same.”

“Okay Good Night. I need to go to bed now. ”

“Good day”

*********

“So! Happy?” – I had asked you inquisitively right after she had hung up.

“Yeah, kinda. At least now she knows what I feel for her” – I had visibly noticed traces of relief in your expressions. They were not devoid of anxiety though.

“Do you really think you love her?” –I was reluctant but I had to ask you after all that.

“Yes I do. Even if you don’t, I do and I know you’re too shy or hesitant for some reason to admit it. Screw you. I do and that’s enough for me.”

“What if she does not reciprocate?” – I had asked and you had scowled on me.

“I ain’t loser like you. I like to be optimistic.” – You are sometimes hopelessly over-confident and over-ambitious. “What about you? You don’t love her, no? So you would be pretty happy even if she doesn’t reciprocate, right? Idioto!” – You had me thinking.

“I haven’t said I don’t love her”

“Then, do you?”

“I think I do but I am confused. I have some doubts. I am not sure of myself. Are you sure that you love her for real?”

“Hahaha…Mr. confused! you will always remain one confused creature. Let me tell you honestly what I feel about it. Yes--there is no shred of doubt in my mind that I do love her. The more I think about it, the more confident I get. You too may think it is shallow just like she thinks it is. But trust me, it’s not. I am being a little impatient I know but I was just checking on her. I don’t necessarily expect her to be mine. It’s her call and I want her to be happy in whatever way possible. I will still love her no matter what. Even if we don’t talk with each other at all from now on, I will still love her. Love is not about getting, it’s about giving. If she can be happier with someone else, I will have no hesitations on letting her go. You need more time to know her better, right Mr. Always Right? To clear your confusions, no? Well, I don’t need any further interactions coz I don’t have any confusions. May be it will weaken me further if I come closer to her but what has happened so far between us is enough for me to understand that I care for her and she is really very special to me.” – You had me in awe. I had always thought you talk and do things on impulse. Never had I ever imagined until then that you could think like the way you did.

“What if she comes up with a big fat NO? – I was reassuring myself.

“I will feel bad. But that doesn’t take away the fact that I loved her, I still love her. If there was no connection at all, you wouldn’t be talking to her for this many weeks. You cannot undo love just because you did not get the result in your favor. You still love the person and hope that she does well in life. And that Yes or No thing doesn’t even matter in the end. ”

“Are you sure you are not shallow?” – I was still awestruck.

“I was, I am and will always be shallow to begin with. But things change overtime. I know I am the cause for your confusion but I also lead you through things to help you come out of doubts. You will forever remain cynical and indecisive if I don’t chime in. What were you thinking? You don’t trust me I know. I don’t need your trust either. All thoughts are random and shallow in the beginning but they get shape and direction with time. All mature and sensible thoughts are random and shallow by nature in their infantry. No one’s born mature. Nothing is mature by birth. They get mature over time. You gotta know when they do get mature. Don’t worry if they don’t give fruits in your favor but give recognitions to them when they do get mature. Just because they are not in your favor doesn’t always mean that your thoughts are shallow.” – You were looking at me from the mirror trying to explain things. It was hard for me to admit then but for the first time, I was seeing a mentor in you.

I had missed the other side of you until that eventful night or should I say, morning. I had always thought I knew myself completely. But I was wrong. I had thought I was fairly good, but never knew you were better. That dawn, you had shed light on the other side of you which was selfless, thoughtful and philosophical. I am indebted to you, to this date, for helping me meet with myself- my real self. Thanks.

*******

Hi there,

Hope this email does not come to you as a thunderbolt. I thought and thought and thought and finally decided about us. I am really very sorry to disappoint you but I don’t think we can be together. My life is going through a really unstable phase right now and I don’t want to keep you under that instability and indecisiveness. It’s really hard to ride along with others when you, yourself are not sure about your own destiny. Call it a cruel destiny’s game but I cannot keep you under any sorts of confusions anymore. You are a nice guy and a confident one too. I am sure there are lots of good matches awaiting your arrival. We cannot sail together. I am in the midst of a crazy ride through storm and I have to get out of it by myself. Wish me luck!

Hope you will understand me.

Take care and all the best for all your future endeavors.

- Protshahana

*******

I don’t know what a happy or a sad ending is. Life is not about endings; it’s a series of moments—good and bad, sweet and sour, highs and lows. It’s not about ending, is it? Come back to me. See me after five years. See how I am doing then. I may have some other stories to tell. This is not the end. Life just moves on. It keeps on moving.

“What’s happening? So the sun rose from the west finally eh? No long hair, no goatee. Am I talking to the same guy?” – Paul was amazed at my new looks I had made out of myself for a change.

“Not every month is romantic as February, now is it? Hahaha…I have a big presentation coming up at the end of this week and I really want to leave a good impression on them. Perhaps a clean shaved face will do if not the work? Hahaha”

“Sure will. All the best.”

“Thanks. How was your trip? Did you get to see the ball falling?”

“Oh, not really. People were mad crazy. They had started gathering around the place from 7 in the evening. I wouldn’t do that just to see the darn ball falling. Went to a bar instead. Oh and met with this hot lady. Danced with her all night long. I had thought she was from NYC until she told me she was originally from Nepal. Man, she was an awesome dancer and a very charming personality too. I have her number by the way, ahem! Do you want to touch base with her?” – Paul was all smiles.

“Hehe. No thanks. They are not really as hot as they look like from outside. Everyone has their own stories I guess. I have had enough of bumpy emotional rides. Life doesn’t come so easy, does it?” – You were there right at the corner of the room with arms bent over your chest looking at me with that wry smile of yours.

*****

“How do you want to be remembered?” – Interviewer

“Simply, as, the man who put a smile on the face of all who he met.” – David Brent

Sorry. Due to database limitation, had to break the story into two posts. It's now complete.

I liked the way 'You' in the story described Prots. Nice one their Loots! hope it's not the end

It was a superb ending to a nice story :). I liked the way you explain everything, my heart went out for "you" in the story. You should certainly write more.

Wow! Today the sun rose from west! Someone finally remembered that he had a story to finish!!. I, seeing your laziness, had almost vowed to not read your stories again. ‘Coz you’d take ages to complete a story, and that way, someday, I ‘d die waiting for the climax ..and become a ghost.

Well, anyway…good story. Nice blend of Humor, sentiments and drama.  Thumbs up!

Write more *

 

Just thought of putting this song here-  Very nice song, heard it just today.

 

 

Have a Good Day!

      *-without torturing the readers!!

I like the story..finally u completed it. And yea, i totally feel Prots..and her state of mind. I agree with you too..life moves on.

I read somewhere that with evolution; the shape of the nose tends to get better. I will have more enthusiasm then.

awesome endings! No doubt my heart totally went out for "you" as he was the most interesting/ cutest character in your story.

very nice story indeed... perfect blend of humor and honest insight...I did enjoy a lot.

you sud write more.

Man,your dysfunctional brain is creative. You are sucessful in writing a monologue as a dialogue. You have precisely revealed subtle differences between 'real you' and 'politically correct you'.  Being same in the heart, they project differently toward people. Your right brain should be as "dysfunctional" as your left one to keep these random shallow thoughts in a structure. 

Keep writing,

SunnyDev

WOW! Totally refreshing. I liked the story, liked the psychological dialysis, liked the way the writer is talking with himself making readers ponder upon what is being said and done and why. Being a psychology minor myself, I see where the diversion and dilemma is coming from.  It is in our mindset by default to think radically different from what we do and how we do in the end. Human thought process and actions are not necessarily coherent. Very honest, smart and neat narrative. Two thumbs up! Keep writing.

loote bro even if i try..words will be not enough to describe how much i enjoyed this..immensely(maha understatement!:oD hehe)...

but smthing that still makes me grin and amused is well when i read this line-
"<i>And I have dined with some of the huge ladies mind you, and she was just 5’ 6”--with a </i>"
i dunno why..but before headn onto the next line..i had to put on a "brake", turn back and re-read this line again..u know regarding the 5' 6" haha..(yeah all u ppl from the other gender can label me a sexist..dumbo..watever u want..and get ready to cover me with..chappals/sandals, rotten eggs and veges :oS hehe).. and the next line that appeared.."<i>four-inch heel that is!</i>"  haha...i realised why i had turned my head in the first place!;oP...brainwashed by all i tell u!;oP hehe..and yeah even i have met/seen quite a fair share of neps from the other gender whom are 5' 6" or more...funny how i thot i didnt generalise in that but seems like i still do?:oS

oops went wandering again!:oS ;oP hehe

but u know wat? after seeing wat u shared...im starting to love this david brent!:oD..but not in the gay way hai hehe

and i really do concur on life isnt about endings..so am gonna say this..this aint the end is it?;oP it was just a moment/s? so yeah waiting for the next series/moments..errr 5 yrs after?

always do relish the post/opinions u share..they always seem to entertain me or does open up my tiny closed mind a bit :oD..but this really so far has been the best(ironically tho i dun really like to compare and i try not to...i am doing it?:oS..but i think its for the good!:oD hehe)...and as they say...JAWOSH!(?) :oD

...cheers for the never ending smiles :oD..hope all is well with u :oD

(ps typed this with a bit of alcohol in my system so u can take it seriously ;oP hehe)

Loots, loved the ending..clap clap clap !! Two thumbs up !!

NPL bro,
Thanks a lot for reading this long, boring bosh. I owe you a cup of coffee for your resistance. Holler me at cafe, anytime soon :). And yes, we (Giants) did it! Hail Eli Manning, hail Michael Strahan! . I am for Obama now

Rythm,
Thanks a lot mademoiselle for the word of  encouragements throughout this lil' journey of mine in jotting down this asinine read. You know you should keep writing too.

Aviator,
Thank you ma'am for stopping by. Lazy indeed I am. Oh well, if other priorities in our life could take a back seat, I would keep playing beach volleyball 6 months in US and the remaining 6 down-under .  Cheers for the song. So when are you flying by yourself? I am quite adventurous myself, so wouldn't mind daring life in your flight with you

Khusi.
Pleasure is all mine. You found some time to show up in sajha after a long hiatus just to drop a line for my mumbo jumbo read-- couldn't have asked for more. Always at your service

Pjna,
I am indebted by your continuous words of encouragement throughout this lil' experimentation of mine. I read your last piece about fate--was an engaging read. You should keep writing too

SunnyDev bro,
You hit the right chord everytime. You never cease to amaze me with your concise gist of stories. I am sure this thread got more hits than it should have coz they saw your name in it. No wonder you are one of the best critiques in sajha.

Hunk_in_Grave,
You made my day with that comment. Thanks bro. Just when I thought this story couldn't bring much appeal for  male readers; yourself, Sunny bro and Danny bro dropped by as a ray of sunshine to give me hopes and encouragement. Thanks a lot.

Danny bro,
Haha. Whatever happened to the adage: "drinking and writing don't go together"? Thanks a ton for reading and liking the story. Cheers mate, cheers for the words-- they mean a lot.

BTW, David Brent is the British (original) version of Michael Scott of the popular series "The Office". He is one of very few TV series characters who has influenced me. Obnoxiously funny and irritating, yet this character is unique in that his ignorance about what others think of him, makes him funnier which the character himself is completely oblivious of. You should definitely watch this series-- it's a masterpiece. These "commercial" American sitcoms don't compare with the subtlety and dryness of British Comedy, I tell you.

Sndy,
Thanks di. I can literally see you clapping and raising your two thumbs

Thanks are also due to the silent readers.

You all have a great life ahead

LooTe

Enjoyed the read ! Loote the hunk

. C’mon confess, write-read-edit, how many times you repeated this command while writing this piece? Would you mind telling me how many hours you invested to groom this piece of yours? I must say, you have passion for writing, indeed. But, boy, I believe our opinion in writing is 180 degree apart. You believe in refining, I believe in crudity. You chose romanticism, I opt for naturalism.

It’s always a treat to read from a writer like you. The passion you have for writing always produces the masterpiece. Keep them coming, I will be always around to comment.