A Loser’s Love Story – Part-3

Posted: April 21, 2012 in Cricket
Tags: ,

I could see a known face approaching me.

“Don’t tell me that you’re Vikram” she said in heavy American accent.

“I am. But I didn’t know that you’re Neema”. Neema is the girl whom I’ve already seen with my friend Surya and thought to be a north Indian owing to her fair skin.I’ve a weakness for north Indians.

“Funny. Hmm so” She gave a cute little smile. I could see her small black ear stud shining along with her smile.

“How did you know that I’m Vikram. How did you find out?”

“You were the one who was nervously walking around here and there” She again smiled at me. She finishes every sentence of hers with her trademark smile.

I laughed scratching my head thinking what a fool I’d have looked when she saw me walking restlessly.

“Why don’t we sit at some place?” Only then I realized that we both were standing right at the entrance of coffee day blocking few of the deceased couples to nature. I got a Lips pressed, no teeth, smooth curved smile once again.

We sat in the same sofa where Selva and I used to have coffee. But sitting with a girl and that too with a pretty girl makes even a dump yard look like a palace. Though I knew the contents of menu card by heart I opened it and looked at her. “What you’d like to have?”

“Hmm…Cappuccino would be fine” I didn’t know what’s so special with this cappuccino, everyone orders the same, is it due to their love towards cappuccino or their ignorance. I didn’t dare say these things to her. I called the waiter and ordered two cappuccinos.

I started to converse with her, “So how are you?”

“I’m great. Thanks to your story. The only sense of relief from the usual lovey-dovey types”

“Come on. It’s not that good”

“Oh don’t be so humble. Doesn’t look good on you. Be like Arun” She pressed the last name with yet another beautiful smile.

“You seem to like Arun so much. Is it the name of your boyfriend?” I imaginarily patted my shoulder appreciating how cleverly I questioned about her relationship status.

“Hey I’m single” The last word gave me a huge sense of relief.It kept on vibrating in my ears till the waiter came with two cups of cappuccinos.

The hot coffee was like cold ice cream after hearing that magic word‘single’ from her. With coffee tainted around her upper lip she continued to have eye contact with me and smile every time I looked at her. We didn’t converse much but I was happy that I was with a beautiful girl and I made her smile a couple of times.

After an hour she bid good bye. Though I never ever would have spent Rs. 120 for a couple of coffee I felt elated that day. That was the first time I took the 7’o clock bus, the last bus from our office which will be damn crowded. Selva not being around me for the two and a half journey didn’t occur to be as a big deal, thanks to Neema and constant thoughts about her. I reached home at 9.30 and locked myself in my room. All this time I couldn’t concentrate on anything.

That weekend went in a jiffy. All Monday morning it’s an unsaid ritual, Selva will start narrating what all happened between him and the girlfriend of the week. Being the most eligible bachelor in school, college, office he didn’t have any problem getting a girlfriend. As I could not get a girlfriend I got satisfied with his midnight masala stories. Though he could get any girl he wishes he doesn’t even talk to girls whom I like.

That Monday morning it was my turn to tell him a story. Though it didn’t involve any bedroom athletics like his story it surely was a memorable one for me.

“Dude, I saw her, Neema” said I.

“Don’t say that you stayed late to run away from her once again” replied Selva.

“No, no listen.”

“She wasn’t any stranger like we thought. She is a friend of my friend Surya” I continued.

“Surya? Who the hell is he?”

“It’s not a ‘he’. It’s a ‘she’. She was my old school friend. We both were in same class till fifth standard. After I came to S.B.O.A I lost contact. We met here in office after 10 years”

“That’s what. If she had been in S.B.O.A I’d have known”

“Not really. She doesn’t look nice”

“She doesn’t look nice? Then why the hell you’re still in touch with her. If you can’t get a girlfriend at least don’t get girls as friends with guy’s name”

“Are you going to listen to the story or not”

“Wait let me guess,” saying so he closed the heavy laden window.

“First tell me whether she looked nice otherwise there is no point in wasting time guessing her” he questioned.

“Yea she was great”

“Hmm Tall, fair, slender, straight hair, hazel eyes. Am I right?”

“One out of five”

“What?Butthat’s your definition of ‘great’”

“I thought so. But she was different. She was fair alright but short, curly hair, black eyes, cute little nose with a nose stud and excellent English”

“What’s this English fanaticism? First Minita, now Neema huh?”

“Don’t know why but that’s how it is” Our conversation took so long so that our journey time looked effortless. We both were barred of our morning quota of sleep too.

I opened the communicator and kept on staring at her name as if I was staring at her. I cursed her parents for keeping her such a terrible name.

“His father should have been an idiot. Her mother should have been stupid. How could they keep such a terrible name to such a beautiful girl?”I thought to myself

I was in a bit of dilemma to whether ping her or not. Selva has advised me many a time that a guy should not show that he’s desperate but I was. I tried so hard to resist it but couldn’t.

I finally pinged her “Hi”

“Hey… morning” came her reply almost instantaneously.

“How was the weekend?” I asked.

“Nothing special. A couple of movies, lots of sleep blabla. How was yours?”

“Hmm… same here. During weekdays I think about weekends and during weekends I think about the whole of next week. It’s not politically right to have only 2 days as weekends. We ought to have equal number of weekdays and weekends. This is partiality” I cracked my knuckles after a huge reply.

“Politically incorrect huh?lolz”

I was afraid whether I’ve used the wrong word. I’ve huge inferiority complex when in comes to English, because of that I always used to be extra cautious while chatting.

“lol” the best reply to give when you don’t know what to answer.

“You’re as funny as your story. Lolz” She adds an ‘z’ at the end of lol many times but I couldn’t get the significance. Well who cares of significance as long as it comes from cute little fingers of a beautiful girl.

We couldn’t chat much that day because my manager was in server system besides me. He gets really irritated if he sees me chatting with someone. May be because, he too wouldn’t have had a girlfriend all through his life.

That evening we went well in advance to the bus bay so that we could get the preferred seat. As soon as I opened the window I saw Neema sitting in the third row three seater in the adjacent bus. I couldn’t wave my hand to her. My heart started to pound fast. I was desperate to gather her attention. I took out my ‘Crime and Punishment’ by Fyodor Dostoyevsky and started to read keeping it close to my face, showing off that I too read literary classics. But she didn’t notice all these as she was busily digging her hand bag which was half her size. I always used to be amazed with stuffs present in a ladies hand bag. It used to have all sort of stuffs mankind could ever imagine.

Then I saw Harish(my college mate) entering the bus. My eyes followed him. When he sat in the same seat where Neema was sitting my heart burst.

“What the …?” I called out quite loudly

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