There’re times when every man is in his petite woman mode.
Mujhe sachche pyaar ki talaash hai.
Gulia, dude, you don’t understand what true love is all about?
Engineers are more prone to this syndrome. (A sex ratio of 120:1 in DCE Mechanical, what a fuckin joke on humanity mylord?) As I was discussing with Amay’Zing the other day, what we desire the most is always what we don’t have. He has a job that’d pay him 10lacs a month ($_$) and I have a college where every day’s a party!
So this (really)nice chap was truly, madly and deeply in love with some girl, the kind of love that makes you do crazy things, makes your knees go weak and turns you into a disgusting derp! He was a man with a mission. Mission-my-belle. He takes the 2.5hours metro ride to rallies up if front of her, and says the three ‘golden words.’
What a fuckin joke? I cried. I was ganged up on, beaten to death, and brought to life just to be beaten more by nothing but words, sermons of love, life and purity. The motion of the house was concluded and passed, I’m a stone-soul, everyone shouted Aye! in MUNna style.
I recovered feeling proud and powerful. Its always better to be a stone-soul than be pathetic. I assumed I’m the only man alive with any real perspective on the topic of love. I decided not to share the real secret with anyone for god has entrusted me with the hidden code. I went on the way I wanted to.
A year later, some other woman was the apple of (really) nice chap’s eye. They frolicked around Malviya Nagar Market as I looked away puking and gasping for breath at the same time. One fine day, he summoned me, I looked up like a puppy, he had twinkle of a victorious Gladiator in his eyes. He had won.
So how did it happen? I asked the customary question. He started off “I told her I love her, she told me so does she, I asked her if she’s a virgin, she said yes of course.”
I shouted WHAT as loud as I could. Suddenly the pictures of all those feminist women around me Shiva, Usha, random activist started haunting me. I told him, how it’s no big deal even if she’s not, and he had no business asking that alongwith the proposal.
I was given a sermon on importance of purity, chastity and Indian culture, and how romantic his and their first kiss was, next to the Hauz Khas Lake and the wind and the beer and all that jazz. Awwww!
What a loser, I thought on my way back home. I logged on to facebook and saw Tanuj’s Mwah-ing and oleey-ing with the love of his life splashed everywhere like Dark Pink Holi colors and a terrifying thought stuck me. What if I really did not have God’s penultimate secret?
My first kiss was after all in the scorching Delhi summer afternoon, in a Delhi auto rickshaw, and we were just making better when the troll interrupted and asked “Chirag Dilli se nikalun ya Khel Gaon se?” That was the end of it friends. Sobs!
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