Lauv Story Episode V

Read earlier episodes for context, even I had to read them to have a semblance of connectivity while writing this.

So here I was, waiting for the most important tweet of my life (for which I had been branded a twat by people aplenty). By the time I abandoned my pride, and somehow got her home number (from a very stubborn, possibly homosexual friend), she must have left for the airport. And in the subsequent moments of desperation, I did what I do best- make a fool of myself (in front of a large audience), and I tweeted, hoping she would read it at the airport, or in the flight, or even at the stop in Paris. And she would abandon all of it, and come back. I refreshed her twitter page a million times, but there was no update. She was gone, and gone for good.

Lauv Story Episode IV

These last few days of my life I had locked myself up in my filthy garbage yard of a room, sleeping amidst clothes which had lost all hopes of being washed, spiders breathing down my face having knitted their web so industriously down the ceiling and a kettle that hadn't been washed in a fortnight but used almost daily for my staple diet of Maggi, masala, aata and tomato curry. Despite all my efforts, I eventually had to abandon this lifestyle in favour of some marks in the coming tests and show my crappy warewolvish hair and beard to the rest of the college.

There were three category of responses I got from the aam junta (who, in the ideal world, would have given no thoughts to my fiasco, would have not gossiped about it with their friends, even from other colleges and so on)-

Lauv Story Episode III

Ok yes, it was a setback. A big one, I admit. I mean what was the point of putting so much effort into a cause which was fruitless from the onset. I did however find her orkut profile, after much effort, and looked at all prospective boyfriends of hers and criticized each one of them. It was fun till my pesky neighbours/friends started banging my door for dinner and I swiftly closed the numerous tabs and removed the pages from the history as well (my friends really did not respect the privacy of computers). For the better part of next month, I preferred to spend more time with these pesky friends than with Anchal, in fact, every time I looked at her I visualized a wedding ring on her finger (I didn't know which finger is the ring worn on, so I imagined one on each finger) and the lechery I was committing in still pursuing her.

"The way you stare at me these days creeps me out, tell me you aren't fantasizing anything about me."

Lauv Story Episode II

The delusions of going to a place where people play with cutting-edge technology and innovate for fun were swiftly cleared, as I spent the better part of my first week sleeping away the boredom garnered at all the tuts and lectures. The only piece of interesting technology I encountered in the classes was the chalk holder, which lets instructors use even the last bit of chalk to copy out derivations mentioned in the text. So why was I still attending the classes?

Week two, day one - my good-hearted, sincere bespectacled neighbour woke me up at 7.30 because he knew that I had a class at 8 (no, I didn't), which I shouldn't be missing because the teacher was very strict.

Lauv Story Episode I

I was waiting for the most important tweet of my life. It was part risky and part stupid, nobody I knew had even proposed a girl publicly even on facebook, much less twitter. And before I knew, it was one of the most talked about topic, with people who never knew me not shying away from giving their two cents on #loserproposesontwitter, it wasn't too bad though because as the afternoon came there were a few losers who started supporting me on #guyproposesontwitter.

So how did it all start? One year back.. I came to this college to have four fun filled years. I hardly had a school life after 8th, as I was shipped to Kota to fulfill my father's life long ambition of joining IIT. So he sent me to this crapland for four years and I fulfill his dream, bah.. I walked out of the IIT examination precisely 4 minutes after, having scribbled down my name, application number and other details in neat handwriting. But I had to go to college, and so I wrote BITSAT, got into the Goa campus (although Pilani was open for me, but the idea of spending another four years of my life in the middle of nowhere didn't entice me much).

And so on the moisture laden steps leading the main building of BITS Pilani, Goa Campus, amidst the several centipedes (that seemed to have rained on us), I talk to Anchal. 5'4"-5", darker than wheatish, but sharp features, and omg eyes.. resplendent blue on the clearest white, and yes she had red streaks in her hair (the rebel kind eh?).

An Evening of Horrors

"Mama would be angry..." I sure was scared that day, it was already eight-thirty when I took the bus. and I was alone that day. My tution sir lived about a thirty-minute bus ride away and so my parents, always too cautious, sent me there only because one of the kids from my apartment went there too. but that day he had a headache, most probably caused by the thought of missing sachin's batting in the india-england match. so his parents let him a day off from the tution.

However too many things that shouldn't have happened, happened all together. After the class I went to the place of another friend of mine to see his new videogame. the videogame was pretty much addictive, and two hours , or more aptly sixteen levels of that game, passed very swiftly. "time to go back..." first I called up my mum and told her that I went to a friend's place and that I would be back soon.

The Red Shoe

I wrote this story on a different blog some time back.. however since this story is one of the very few that are worth reading- I'll put it here too.... :P!

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The Red Shoe:::

How do you describe a very lively market? People, hundreds of them, engaged in all sorts of verbal communication- talking, arguing, shrieking, begging, scolding et cetera and commodities, thousands of them, being sold, bought, repaired, returned, exchanged, rented, donated et cetera. Well ‘if’ that’s all that I’m saying about Dandaiya Market then I’m terribly short or words and power of expression. But I guess we’ll have to do with that description written not by me but a friend (who has requested to be anonymous).Situated at a very comfortable location, this market attracts a lot of shoppers. The streets are all cluttered with vehicles and men, both susceptible to the adverse effects of the huge amount of humanity traversing the area. To this market, one has to come out of necessity and not luxury- at least for my mother who wants a special type of flour, comprising wheat, corn … Had it been a story on my mom’s cooking habits I’d have asked her the detailed composition, but this is very serious.