(Still another Teen Day… a chapter on ‘the CRUSH syndrome!!!’)
(do check out my earlier post too ‘the thinking process’)
As I sipped the steaming milk-free n sugar-free special coffee (the cheapest one in planet, the only competition to it is posed by the ambrosial ‘masala coffee’ from Hyderabad @just 2Rs…!!!), I saw her… alone at one corner of that distant deserted table…all alone… at one dark corner of my heart I still wished… yes I wanted to sit with her…just like we did, months back…time seems to have grown weaker, lost it’s healing power…no…I mustn’t...Hey…what am I thinking…?
See her face…oh! I can’t bear this…How could I…? Or, how could anyone? Oh world…is this really fair? Tell me…
There was once a time…a golden time painted in rose…when she was everything for me…what would I not do for her …who could stop me then from flying to the counters…without sparing a second to gasp in a puff of air…and reach only to strike the board ‘tickets closed…show full’…and then I would forget what exactly filled my purse, I would spend the currency I had saved for the month( to ‘easy-charge’)…and exchange it for two balcony tickets in ‘black’…and we would sit together…and I enjoyed her face glisten in the darkness that filled the theatre as the show was about to begin…what a beauty…my lovely Nisha!!!
Oh! Those nights…the never ending calls we had…we talked and talked and talked…even the ‘broken switch of her table lamp’ would walk in…oh! So open was the book she was …and I loved reading her…
The mornings would start…without a ‘cock-a-doodle do’ or an alarm…I would open my eyes…yeah it’s her ‘missed call’…the magical missed call…a language that never required words…
And there she sits…all alone…see her face…oh! I can’t bear this…
Oh! That cursed second…when my mobile rung…she was there, right beside me, with her eyes sunken in the rusty dusty pages of her text book…but I knew…she was listening…and I was sure…she’d captured all that came through the receiver…oh! These girls…what magical creations…
…what stupid yet cunning piece of work was she? How dare she perceive all these the wrong way? After all, how I could I ‘gift’ some gal a 10,000Rs worth phone when my own monthly ‘quota was just a petty 1000’…? But how could she…why did she… really disbelieve me?
That devil in polka dotted dress…oh! Lord…I curse her…for the foulest smelling ulcer to affect her mouth…she injected the deadliest poison into my ‘then’ sweet heart…Pinky I’ll crush you…for all the stuff that you pushed into her head… and Saran…thanks for the supporting role…I’ll kick your butts one day…!!! All I did was selling my old phone…second hand…and who knew it would ultimately reach Shweta…the latest buzz in campus? I hadn’t imagined in my wildest dreams that Shweta would go to the same shop where I had sold it…
Why should I explain…why…that bitch…she never trusted me…ha…
Discarded…!!!Chapter closed…
And there she sits…all alone…see her face…oh! I can’t bear this… Bloody creep…can you see her face?…see that crooked smile in her face as she speaks over the same old ‘MOTO RACER’…I am sure it’s that same old mellow tone of her voice that lured me…now it’s someone new…some lucky brat…
Oh! Gosh…..Shwetaaa…where are you my dear….
Hmmm…here…I send my heart…dear accept this….my missed call…the language without words…
Ha…here’s the reply…her missed call…the voice of the ‘zero-balance’ lovers…
Oh! World, another saga begins…right here…my all time favourite ‘college canteen’…
(ps: off 4 exams!! practical exams cumin up...yeah as i always say..."i'll b back"...seems i'll bav 2 become a 'weekend blaster' from now on..bust times ahead...)(one more thing...c'mon pls trust me..dis is FICTION...!!! pls ;-) 99.5% fiction...do go through de comments...n gimme reviews too)
