2

The Curious Case of TINDER Girls

The Curious Case of Tinder Girls…

Boy swipes right…Girl swipes right…It’s a MATCH!!!

Tinder boy: hey! H r u

Tinder girl: hiiiieeeee…I am good…u tell

Tinder boy: what are u looking for…here…

Tinder girl: nothing much…just friends…

Friends…Friends…Friends…

The boy would be friend-zoned here as well!!

Are you single?

Are you fed up of your single status?

Do you want to date someone?

Are you on tinder?

Have you ever tried any online dating apps?

Have you never ever found anyone online?

Then this one is for you.

For everyone’s benefit I would just define what tinder is; it is an online dating app where you can like or dislike someone just by looking at their pictures and a small bio. If that person also likes you…then you become a match…and you can proceed to chat with each other and in that process hopefully get to know and fall in love with each other.

I won’t lie and shy away…but I did try the app myself. Unfortunately I lucked out in finding anyone who can find my pic likeable enough to swipe right on me 😀 but I was fortunate enough to come across a number of profiles after every 12 hours and here are the types of girls the joker saw there.

Emma Stone is on Tinder! (Stop using a celebrity pic)

The Celebrity DP

I really request to all the girls out there who really want to try out tinder (or for that matter any app) for dating please upload your real pictures. That would help. I mean that would seriously help. We definitely know that Emma Stones and Alia Bhatts of the world won’t be using Tinder to date or find love. Lets assume even if they are, do you think that we don’t know how we look that we will fall in your trap? 😀 So stop using a celebrity pic. Just remember you are beautiful in your own way and the right person will like you the way you are. Anyway…there are many (guys) who swipe right (Like) on all the profiles.

The less the merrier (DP with four other girls)

Talking about display pictures, there is a certain section that, I don’t know why, uploads DPs with more than one girl in them. I mean I know that I would love to date more than one girl, but again it will be of great help to know which one is actually you…to whom the profile belongs out of that selfie, which contains four beautiful damsels. No offence…but I would whole-heartedly try to convey to them that even if you feel that you aren’t that attractive…you don’t have to hide behind a group. Just be you.

The Quotation DP

The landscape or the quote girl

Then there is this third kind who will end up putting quotation or landscape pic or no pic as their DPs. I totally believe that, I wouldn’t want to date a landscape or a quotation…I guess you can understand that this sentence even doesn’t make any sense. You simply miss the logic of the dating app, which is based on the likeability (read hotness) of someone’s face/body and how can someone be interested in you when you don’t even put a picture, which even showcases a face. Please…you need to understand that we guys have a limited quota of free likes and in the rush of liking everyone…we don’t want to like a landscape.

It’s a simple bio not an essay

These apps definitely give you a chance to redeem yourself, if you aren’t able to attract someone just on your face value. There is a small bio (about me) section where you can write things about yourself…your likes and dislikes…hobbies and other related stuff. Some girls just take this section too seriously. They will end up putting a 300 words essay as if to compensate on what they didn’t achieve during their boards exam. Do you seriously think that boys really read that much…did I say that much…actually boys hardly care what you have written in your bio…especially if it is this long. The ironical part of these long bios is that most of them usually have a last line saying I don’t want to write much here. The guy is almost dead by then.

Everybody is a traveller

Choose one

I am of a kind…who usually goes through the bios. I believe the most overused term these days, which you might end up reading in almost every bio, is that they are ‘travellers’ (for this one I am including the boys as well). Firstly it is already a misunderstood term but that’s not important here. The laughable part comes when you actually chat with them and you come to know that they might not have travelled ever in a train/plane or worse…they would have not even left their city ever and still they have the audacity to call themselves travellers. I wonder how can someone highlight transporting in metros and local buses as travelling.

The Sapiosexual kind

One incredible advantage of skimming through these bios is that your vocabulary is definitely going to improve. You will come across all kinds of jazzy fancy intellectual words. One such word, which actually stands out is ‘Sapiosexual’. Off late I have seen this word being used a lot in bios, which literally makes me laugh. For people who don’t know, sapiosexual means one who finds intelligence sexually attractive or arousing. Ma’am you really think you are sapiosexual then stop swiping right for it virtually and go seek the truth in reality. I guess when you write a word like Sapiosexual in your bio on an app which focuses on face value…I don’t know whether you find intelligence or not but it definitely speaks a lot about your intelligence quotient.

Just looking for friends (P.S. I am not looking for dating/hookup)

One interesting line you are going to see in about 70-80% of the bios is that they are just looking for friendship. And on top of that they will explicitly mention that they aren’t looking for dating/hookup. I literally fail to understand that, then why ma’am why…why the hell are you on a dating app on the first place. I hope there are enough friends already in your life and even if they aren’t…tinder isn’t a place to find one. Just for one moment think about that poor guy…who is serial victim of being friend-zoned by every girl he know out there in the physical world. The only resort left for him is to try these dating apps and you are not going to spare him there also. I don’t know about you but he definitely didn’t sign up on tinder to be friend-zoned there as well. Right!!

What to make of profile like these

Entertainment or promotion or simply validation

A study says about 20% of the girls on tinder aren’t there for dating and about the same amount are there just for entertainment. These kinds of girls are there for the simple purpose of entertainment. I have come across many of my friends as well who end up saying that they are on tinder just for fun (not that kind of fun 😉 ). They used it because they were getting bored and instead of doing anything else they like swiping on tinder. Some of them are there just for the sake of validation of their current hotness…whether people are still finding them likeable and how many people have swiped right on their pics. Then there is this lot…that likes to promote them. In their bios you will find their instagram ids, their snapchat ids and all the possible social media ids on which they have a profile. Poor guys!!!

The ones who want their business to flourish (pro-fess-titutes)

Sometimes I feel that on Tinder there are more of those kinds, who want to make a quick buck rather than actually looking for dating or friendship, especially in metropolitans or in international locations. The moment you have their profile on your screen you know for what purpose it is there. Some awesomely hot pic with negligible clothing with their prices in their bios. I let you know one comical thing how these workingwomen…put out their contact numbers. They will never write like 9876 it will be mostly like nine eight seven so that their profiles are not caught in algorithms preventing such profiles.

The guy angle

Then there is this epidemic problem where the guys will have their profiles in the girls section. I wonder how difficult it is to select the correct gender out of just two options. And how can you expect other guys to swipe right on your profile unless they themselves are seeking the same gender. There will be some who will pose as girls themselves. These guys don’t know that we already have this instinct that the moment a profile matches to our profile 99% of the time we assume it to be a fake profile. I mean we see ourselves daily…how can somebody swipe right on us. If somebody swipes right we would go to any extent to find out the genuineness of that profile. Plus I don’t understand those guys who pose…because if we match…what do they get out of a romantic conversation with other guy assuming that the other might be straight. 😀

I know I know I have used a lot of stereotypes in this one. But all you feminists out there before you just decide that this guy shouldn’t have a right to live…or simply want to pick up your gun and shoot me…this was all in good fun.

For everyone else I would say if you are using an online medium to find date or love. Just be you. Say things and behave in the manner you would have in a real physical world. Smile please and happy dating.

For all those who are on tinder,

For all those who date online,

For all those who date in the physical world,

For all those who are too shy to go out there,

For all those who are seeking it online,

And

For all those who have found love online…

It’s not a GOODBYE,

But its a GOOD BYE…aur han…Keep swiping…you never know what you find out there.

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

 

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25

A KISS that never happened

A KISS that never happened…

“Will you be my Dance Partner for Life?” was all I could muster. She cautiously mentioned, “I need some time to think as I am not sure what exactly I am looking for”. 

Some days back while I was in Dubai…

I: See my intentions are very clean and pure for you…but I guess we are not on the same page…at least at this time and point in our lives. You are on my mind and thoughts always and I am not saying this to flatter you. It is really the case.

She: I think we should sit and talk about this. I would want to settle down for sure but I don’t know what I am looking for and even if I say I will think about it I am uncertain how will you take it plus I am skeptical about what I want.

I: Okay then lets sit and talk.

I came down to her town. Was there for about a week and tried to reach out to her everyday and plan a meeting. She was either too busy or too busy, but all in all didn’t meet me. I was hurt and on top of that she forgot my birthday. The only thing that came to my mind was it’s all about the priorities and my name wasn’t on that list. “When she has her priorities cut out then why are you busy trying to woo her”, the mind questioned. The mind understands and takes a stand but the poor heart gives way.

When the meeting finally took place

I drove to her place and from there we went in her car to a Gurudwara. Just before leaving She had washed her face and forgot to put any makeup. Her kohl-less eyes were really piercing. Her face was looking simplistically amazing and serene just like the face of a newly born. She wrapped around a ‘duppatta’ (Indian Scarf) around her head before entering the premise. I am not finding any words to describe her. It’s in my memory and every time I close my eyes I can see her. She was looking like the perfect wife that I always dreamed off. She herself was not at peace from within but for the first time I noticed that there was a lot of calm on her face, which was actually getting transferred on to me. In fact the peace returned to the Gurudwara once she arrived. After she prayed we sat on a bench inside the premise.

She began, “I guess you are not planning to shave off your beard anytime soon”. “I celebrated a very dear friend’s birthday in January and that was the last time I shaved”, I said mischievously. She interrupted me mid sentence, “yayayaya…I know I know…it was my birthday only”. I smiled sheepishly and began:

You said that you are looking for someone who is mature…who is elder to you. My question to you is what is the guarantee that a person who is elder to you is definitely more mature and a guy couple of years younger wont be. A guy who has shouldered a lot of responsibilities and seen a lot in his past and who has tried to do justice to each one of them would have some level of maturity and understanding to do it.

All this while I have loved you…the form might be different. I never judged you for you being you. I never judged you for your scores, I never judged you for your lifestyle, I never judged you for how you dress up, I never even judged you when you went after other guys, I was always with you…but now I believe I should be given a chance to prove my worth. How can I convince you to be mine?

Her puzzled look conveyed that she wasn’t ready with an answer and the talkative me continued.

I love the way you are. The complete you…not a percent here and there. I guess I have fallen for this imperfection. I love your innocence and at the same time your carelessness. I love your smile and at the same time your temper. I love your giggles and at the same time your anger. I love your warmth and at the same time the way you shun people away. I love the genuine friendliness in you and at the same the difficult being that you are. I love your dance and at the same time the flaws. 

he found peace and solace

What my heart felt

I believe love is binding together of all perfections and imperfections of two souls. If it’s too perfect then it can’t be love. That way it would be become too boring and the love will slowly find its death. The beauty of it lies in it only. What’s the point of happiness if there is no sorrow…what’s the point of day if there is no night…what’s the point of good if there is no bad. Imperfections bring a sense of realism to everything. The most important thing would be how we use all these to our advantage…to our bond…to our relationship.

“I feel there isn’t any spark. We don’t have that connection and on top of that I am myself not sure what I am actually looking for”, she reasoned.

Irony of my life would be our relationship getting burnt when there was no spark in it 😦

I Continued, “It took a lot in me to bring back to life that part which died 3 years back and I decided that I wont consider anyone to be my soul mate ever again. But with you I can see a future, I can see a way and above all I can see a life. If I can do that so can you. In any case you are going out to screen candidates for a perfect arranged marriage. In the first couple of meetings can you imagine kissing someone, that spark might be there…but how would you make sure of his nature, behavior and his real self? At least with me you don’t have to make any guesses. You know who I am or is it going to be another case where a guy who is friends with someone for so long, will lose out just because he was a genuine dear friend.”

I thought people seek someone who never asks them to change and accepts them the way they are. I have heard many of my friends complain that they have found a husband and he loves them but they haven’t found a friend in him. I totally believe that if there is love and no friendship then a marriage might flounder but if there is a strong bond of friendship between a couple where they can share each and everything with their partner without the fear of being judged, a marriage can withstand any storm.

“You do not understand my point of view. I can’t force myself to love you or even like you”, she was beginning to sound desperate. I listened to her reasons but they weren’t making sense…I guess for the first time I was finding it really hard to decrypt the fairer and better gender.

I tried to reason her out, “See in 99% of the cases when two people fall in love with each other, its always that one person falls in love and then woos and convinces the other.” We fall in love with our puppy or the recently gifted sapling. It’s all in the mind. It just takes one thought to be in love with someone.

I could sense that she was now very edgy and was beginning to lose her patience. We got up from the bench and headed towards the car.

You won’t believe but this year whatever decisions I have taken were totally based on us. I have not been able to make the next career move because you are not sure how you want us to proceed.

I am ready to love you with all what I have…with all what I am. And if you don’t know it I am already in so much love with you. I want us to dance together, to travel to see the world together, to laugh together, to fight together, to make each other feel safe, to complete each other and to grow old together, and in the process to love each other so that our bond of friendship grows forever.

“I cannot imagine kissing you”, she shouted back irritatingly while putting car in the top gear.

There was silence in the car after that. After a while she said in a dejected tone, “Now you will go quite”. I shyly mentioned, “I am thinking…”

We reached her place. I chose its better to bid goodbye and let her be happy the way she wants to be. I leant forward placed a safe kiss on her forehead, tightly hugged her and whispered; ”All I wanted was a chance and I really wanted this to work…anyway…this is the final time that we are seeing each other”.

I turned around…got on my bike…with moist eyes…had a joyless smile on my face, which echoed with my broken heart…rode away.

Image Ref: Poetry Language

Image Ref: Poetry Language

For all those who have suffered heartbreaks,

For all those who are with their love,

For all those who are friend zoned,

For all those who still can’t convince her,

And

For all those who smile in that pain…

It’s not a GoodBye…

But It’s a GOOD BYE

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

 

6

The LAST BENCH

The LAST BENCH…

It was the start of summer of 1997, and I had successfully completed sixth standard and got myself admitted in seventh. Usually the session began from April and all the new admission happened by then…but there were a few who would join the session a bit late sometimes in May and some even later than that after the summer vacations got over.

Our class had a rotation system, in which every row of student got to sit in the front row once in a week. By then most of the class knew my ways…I had the last row just to myself…with no one ever asking me to rotate.

The Place where it all began

The Place where it all began – Image Ref: Neha Uttam Kumar (www.craftoon.in)

It was a sunny morning and we had returned to our classes after the morning prayers. My south Indian Class Teacher who happened to be our English teacher was taking the roll calls. She had reached midway only…when a female voice interrupted her, ‘Ma’am!! May I come in’? She was another of those late admissions. Hardly had I known then that this girl would turn out to be one of closest friends I’ll have for two decades. (Yeah you heard it right…TWO DECADES).

‘Ma’am!! May I come in’, she asked for the permission again. The sound of a girl’s voice was more than enough for all the students to gaze towards the entrance especially the boys from all the rows…from first to last…and hence my vision was also scanning her. The first thing I noticed (which I remember) was her free flowing golden brown hair on an unusually tall girl for a seventh grade. Modern would be the wrong word to use here, as she looked more urbane than others. When the length of other girl’s skirts tip toed with their matching socks’ she stood out with just knee length ones. Her tall, waxed (I should not mention here but was uncommon in those days) legs added to the allure.

The teacher gave her permission to enter the class. She got her name registered in the attendance register and started looking for a place to sit. Unfortunately for her the girl’s row was full (Yeah we had a separate girls row  ) and Fortunately for me I was the only one sitting on my Last bench. She walked between the girls and the boys’ row and everyone from the first seat to the last followed her with their salivating stare till she reached my bench. I was no dud either but never…ever had any girl asked me, whether she can sit next to me…and hence with my unprepared nervous look…I nodded. That’s how my last bench friendship started…

The girl with the brown hair - Image ref - and-beautiful-blue-drawing-favim-com-1624755.jpg

The girl with the brown hair – Image ref – and-beautiful-blue-drawing-favim-com-1624755.jpg

She came across as a brat to me and would carry the fanciest of things you could imagine…from glitter pens to different type of colorful pencils…from unusual hairpins to…colored covers for the notebooks. There was a child in her who decided never to grow up even to this day. She was careless at times…was extremely pampered and amusingly clumsy with things and at times with herself too. The more I got to know her…the lesser that feeling got, ‘where it was a big thing to sit next to a girl’ and in no time we were like buddies and had our gang.
Giver her height, she took the utmost advantage of it…she was an athlete and played a lot of sports. When other girls were busy chitchatting and playing stupid games she would be around us on the field or on the basketball court. This made our bond stronger. Whether it was recess or sports period or just chatting in the canteen we were everywhere.

All this gave a tomboyish feel to her. There would be occasions when we would be standing in the canteen and she would have her arm around my shoulder and it was the onlookers which made me realize that it’s time to take that arm off from there. She hardly gave a damn about those kind of people and that was the most likable thing for me in her. She knew what was good to her and always followed that…though that can’t be said for the bad ones.

Slowly the standards n years passed…the gang got bigger…and we were something BIG back in those days. From academics to extra-curricular…from dance to sports…from good to bad…our group had a presence.

I was always worried for her as she was a bad judge of friends…she was very poor in knowing people’s intentions behind their smiling faces. And more often than not she ended up in tears…which infuriated me a lot.

At times she found scoring marks a little hard in the science subjects and hence opted for commerce stream as our sections changed. She found new friends…newer interests…and newer connections. Our time together lessened…some of the recesses went in just waiting for her…and soon the group began to decrease in size. Meeting her on rare occasions…seeing her happy…enjoying and having fun with her buddies…made me realize that it was in her best interest that we don’t force her to join us.

Though we were still in the same school but the last two years passed with the minimal of interaction between both of us. We knew we were still good friends…she knew I would be there for her every time she needs my help and the same was for me…but sadly the ‘fizz’ was gone from the bond.

As it happens in most of the cases the people who were best buddies in their school time…hardly are in touch after that. The same happened with us. We both were busy pursuing our own bachelors in different cities…we hardly spoke leave alone meeting, as the era of social media was yet to begin. Just an occasional visit to her house on festivals or public holidays and it was still not a guarantee whether I would see her.

Image ref: Google.com

Image ref: Google.com

Some two years later we were accidently in the same city and decided to meet up that evening in a mall…but on one condition that I will have to drop her home as it would get late by then. It was our chance to catch up on those lost years and to put a dressing wherever the cracks had begun to appear in our sweet special bond.

She shouted out a long ‘Hiiiieeeeee’ with her ever-sparkling smile the moment she saw me. She was wearing a white ‘Punjabi’ salwar ‘n’ kurti and was simply looking flawless. A small ‘bindi’ amplified her beauty many folds. In fact this was the first time I was noticing the feminine qualities hidden in her. She was more confident and surer of herself both in her looks and talks. For the first time I saw a beautiful girl in her and not the tomboyish brat who sat next to me.

I still remember, after about eight long years, each and every word she spoke…the conversation we had…where we sat…what we ordered. After the initial hi and hello…we began opening up about our lives…the harsh realities that she encountered during the last few years. I could see and sense the matureness, though it was not a lot, in her. She was not the same careless kid anymore. I personally believe, no matter how rich or happy you are…but the meaning to one’s life add only when they have had their share of the bitter truths.

Listening to her story…sharing my own…saw her eyes brim with tears…my heart went out to her and just wanted to hug my old buddy with whom I once shared that bench. But I refrained…don’t know why. We spoke for hours and then I dropped her home. She hugged me while I was still on the bike (such an idiot I am). My mind couldn’t detach itself and my thoughts kept on lingering with what all she told me.

We met a couple of more times after that, in fact on one occasion I met her with my girlfriend. But again the years passed…I left the country…she went back home…changed cities…changed professions. This time luckily the technology had taken the leap and we were in better interactive stage than last time.

Recently I got to see her again, this time on a promise of a Royal Enfield ride back home. We met at a café where she reached before me. Dressed casually in a jeans and top with a tinge of reddish color to her hair…she was looking cool. It being lunch time and the café not serving any intoxicating beverages…we opted for a pizza and ice teas. We chatted and chatted about…life…jobs…not getting married…parents…pressures…everything. Her eyes brimmed a couple of times and I refrained and restrained myself again.

It gave me goose bumps when I realized how time flew and it’s been like two decades when we first shared the bench together. For a moment I felt as if we were those kids back from the school days. She told me about how she enjoys her single status by learning all kinds and forms of dance and how it has made her a dance freak…that I actually love.

The sun was about to set and she had a dinner plan…so finally we got on my Royal Enfield and headed home. I did not make any efforts to prove that I am lesser of an idiot now and again hugged her while sitting on the bike. Gifted her some chocolates, which I got from my eurotrip for her. While hugging her, my cheeks accidently felt her cheeks, which were already being kissed by her hair. For the first time I felt like kissing her…felt as if that moment should remain forever. She crossed the road and went inside her home…I was still standing in that moment…wishing her to come back. Would have got down from my bike…removed the hair strands playing with her face…embraced her nicely…looked into her deep dark eyes…made a promise to them that no tear of sorrow will ever hug them…all your worries are mine now…and…would have asked, “Will you be my Dance Partner for Life”?

For all those who were back bencher,

For all those who were first bencher,

For all those who still can’t convince her,

For all those who had a brat as their best friend,

For all those who never had any,

For all those who love her smile,

and

For all those who want her as their dancing partner for life

It’s not a GoodBye,

But it’s a GOOD BYE…aur han Happy Women’s Day to her and all the women out there as everyone is special and beautiful in their own way. Cheers!!!

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

13

The 28 ‘Something’ Bachelor

This Post is among the 12 Best Blog Posts of 2015 in India.

Best Blogposts of 2015


The 28 ‘Something’ Bachelor…

Are you 28 years old or above??
Are you single??
Do you get nervous these days before you login into social media with the fear of somebody posting a status or a pic of their engagement…marriage or even the birth of their child??
Are you avoiding paying a visit to your relatives??
Or are you simply fed up ducking the question of WHEN ARE YOU GETTING MARRIED?? Then this one is truly for you.

Remember the famous dialogue from the Rani Mukherji starrer movie ‘Hum Tum’ where she ends up confronting, ‘Jab tak ek ladki ki shadi nahi ho jati…logon ko chain kyu nahi padta’ (why doesn’t anyone finds peace till the time a girl gets married) but I personally believe it holds true for everyone. I think life isn’t as easy as everyone thinks for boys even.

The Settle down logic

The moment you are in that age bracket everyone from your mausi (aunt) to your chachi (Another aunt)…from your milkman to even your maid ask or I should say poke you with the same question or to put it nicely with a caring suggestion, “Beta why don’t you get married now?” why don’t you settle down, as if I am a dust particle and the only motto of life is to settle down at a place. Unknown…Unseen…Unheard people appear from all corners of the world with their logic of why one should get married and they try to convince you with all their might. I think if you ask a person who has been married for let’s say about 50 years…I am sure he/she won’t be able to answer the question how can marriage be related to the concept whether a guy is settled or not?

Image ref: suburbanbachelor.wordpress.com

Image ref: suburbanbachelor.wordpress.com

‘Budhape ka sahara’  (Old age policy) 

If you try really…and I mean really hard to explain your side of the logic of why you are not getting married…some of them actually end up agreeing with you but then come up with their own philosophy of, ‘Beta!! We understand that these days marriages are not lasting as long as they used to but don’t think about the present…think a little ahead…think about the future when you will be 45-50 years old.’ ‘Then at that age you will surely need someone to share your morning walks and evening talks.’ But then how can one make these people understand that if anybody wants someone at that age then he/she can find someone of that age…at that age…rather than screwing up your life some twenty odd years before.

‘Responsibility se bhag rahe ho’ (You don’t want to shoulder your responsibilities)

The third most common ‘stirrer’ used by the world against you…or in other words for you to get married is that you are running away from your responsibilities and you don’t want to shoulder them. At times it angers me but most of the time it muses me when someone says this to my face…because the same people forget…what the hell a guy is doing when he tries to fulfill his parent’s dreams of becoming a successful person…how is he running away when he is the one who is already taking care of his parents and closed ones or will be taking care of you in your old age. According to these people the only logic which survives is that ‘if a guy is married…he is responsible otherwise he is just a loafer who is busy dodging bullets of responsibilities.’

‘Shadi ki ek age hoti hai’ (The right age for marriage factor)

Everybody has plans…and he might also have some plans…and marriage might not be on the cards on an immediate basis. Having said that, I know, there is a right age for marriage and if the plunge is not taken at the right time, it will surely have an effect on the ‘Quality’ of offspring but given the current lifestyle and the expenses of settling in a metro requires some planning…some savings and a lot of mental toughness. What if the guy is simply not mentally ready??? In any case these days’ people are deciding to get married at a later age when they feel that they have at least tried to cover all the corners.

‘Kab tak akele rahoge – khana kaun banayega’ (Till when you will stay alone…and for God sake who will cook for you)

I guess the day my mom realized that my dad can’t even put on a gas stove she decided that her son will be able to suffice all his cooking needs. Still the so called caring relatives…the ones whose life is already hell…try to make sure…yours is surely one too. ‘Now that you are already have a good job…a four-wheeler…and you have already booked a flat…why don’t you get married?’ ‘At least when you return from work someone will be there to share your day and more importantly till when will you cook by yourself.’ My logic, if I have to stay…’happily married’…in a big city…both the partners need to work to meet out the expenses and the expectations and in that case a maid needs to prepare the meals for both of us…so if I have to eat maid cooked food after marriage too…why not let me cook my meal…and stay… ‘Happily unmarried’ 😉 .

‘Duniya kya kahegi…jarur ussi me kuch kami hogi…baal bhi kam ho rahe hai’ (The world will think that there is surely something wrong with him only…and more importantly you are losing hair day by day)

If you take too much time to decide on your marriage…the world will think that there is certainly something wrong with you. Some may come up with wild medical guesses others will somehow link this to your old heartbreaks and believe me this definitely happens. Even your friends begin to taunt you, ‘bhai sab kuch thik hai na…kabhi field me cricket ball to nahi lag gayi’ (is everything totally fine with you medically). My simple reply to this is a silent…stern…smile.
Then there are the ones who really treat you as their son. The moment you reach their place they will have a newspaper cutting saved for you with new Ayurvedic hair oil, which can increase obviously your hair growth. And you slowly fold that paper…into your pocket…with a genuinely ‘fake’ smile…’Ji aunty main kal hi ye tel kharid leta hu’ (I’ll definitely buy this one tomorrow). But I don’t blame them only…it’s the ‘awesome’ mindset of our society that the moment a guy starts losing his hair…he is considered old…an uncle. I really pitied my cousin who had to get a hair transplant just to get married…sad.

The ones who have taken the plunge also begin to push

Even the ones with whom you have shared your childhood…your bruises…your secrets and your memories begin to push you to get married. Sometimes for the simple reason because they themselves don’t want to be the one who have to swallow the pill alone. ‘Yaar tu kab tak akela rahega…bhai!! Ab tu shadi kar le’. You call them in the middle of the night with some of your issues and the only resolve they will come up with is, ‘Bhai!! Ab tu shadi kar le’. You will say…these days I don’t find interest in office with the profile that I am handling…and their reply, ‘Bhai!! Ab tu shadi kar le’ (Dude!! Get married).

Infact these days…some of the long-lost friends ping me only, either to share their CVs so that I can refer them or to check on me…when I am actually getting married. My ‘bhabhis’ (Sister-in-laws) have found even a newer way to harass…every time I wish them…their only blessing is ‘Jaldi shadi ho bhaiya’ instead of ‘Jeete rahiye bhaiya’. I remember recently attending a school friend’s marriage and out of all the friends who turned up…I was the one who was single…but I guess that should not be the reason to get married…Right!!!

Image ref: prokod.com.tr

Image ref: prokod.com.tr

The Emotional Attyachar

The list will never end for the singles out there…but the last one…the big one…which I believe the parents use to get daughters as well as their sons married is ‘the emotional attyachar’ (the emotional blackmail). ‘Beta!! Hum marne se pehle pote-poti ka muh dekhna chahte hai’. It’s so pathetic that they use their death to blackmail their kid for marriage…leave alone their choice for the marriage. It’s so convenient for them…they decide all your childhood…they decide more or less what career you choose. I believe the decision with whom you want to spend your life with…whether you want to spend it with someone or not should be yours.

For all those who are going to ask me after reading this whether I am actually going to get married is, my reply would be, ‘Arrange marriage main karunga nhi…aur pyar humse koi karta nahi’

For all those who are 28 years old or more,

For all those who face similar issues,

For all those who are married,

For all those who are bachelors,

And

For all those who believe Singlehood is awesome

It’s not a GOODBYE,
But its a GOOD BYE…Aur han…Believe me I still believe in the institution of Marriage…

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

6

A Tale of Malabari Chicken Curry and Two Tomatoes

A Tale of Malabari Chicken Curry and Two Tomatoes

‘Bhaiya it’s my birthday!!! Please make that special Malabari Chicken Curry for me na…Please’. My cousin was after my life. Ok…ok…don’t do this Emotional Attyachar…I’ll prepare it…but I am only doing this because it is your birthday.

I poured myself an extra large of ‘Kala Kutta’ (Black Dog) and took out the necessary two tomatoes from the fridge. He again started, “Bhaiya!! No one in your family consumes chicken…so how come this knowledge of ‘Malabari’ Chicken Curry…hmmm…bolo bolo.” He immediately sensed it that I was not at ease with this question. The best I could manage was a smile…emptied one (more) large in a single go and began…

Few years back…

‘Ladies and gentlemen! Our next performer is surely going to take your breath away. When she moves…even her eyes dance with expression…and please get hold of an armor…as her smile is for sure going to stab your heart and take your life away ;). Please put your hands together for our very own Malabari Tomato’, the anchor announced. Actually, I was the one who gave her that name as every time I looked at a tomato…they always reminded me of her pink chubby cheeks. (Sorry can’t mention her real name)

He disappeared behind the curtains. Slowly the lights faded…the huge maroon curtains, which were hiding her from me, sluggishly began to move apart. She didn’t have a clue that I was a part of the audience…not even to this day. Several spotlights began to bathe her in various colors. It was a scintillating sight.

The music reached our ears…it was a malayali song and my Malayalam being so awesome that apart from that I could not make out what a single word meant. Some other guests told me that it was a mallu song…otherwise I didn’t have a clue 😉 . She was at her graceful…stunning best in a blue sari. She had this uncanny ability of carrying off a sari from her school farewell days. On those particular days…elegance…poise and grace became her best buddies (read biggest virtues). She was the one who in stored my faith in the fact that a girl can look her superlative in a sari too with the perfect spice up of seduction.

She commenced. Her moves…her dance…made it appear as if she was effortlessly floating like a mermaid. She was glittering more than all the jewelry she wore…but it was her big brown eyes that outshone every jewel. Every time she smiled…it gave an instant kick…with a high that lasted longer than any intoxicants. It was literally impossible for me to take my eyes off her…actually no one was able to. That very instance a thought whispered to me. If ever I am going with a dancing partner…she should be her, if ever I am going to marry anyone…she should be her and if ever I am going to love anyone…she should be HER. My heart without informing anyone…even me…was now already in love with her. But I could never muster the courage to let her know how much I loved her pure soul…that had the innocence of a nine year old and maturity of someone way beyond her ages. To add up to my woes, I knew she was already in love with someone else. He being a mallu…I gave myself no chance and hence never confessed my love to her. I was just content cherishing the friendship that we had.

Dancing Tomato

Dancing Tomato

Years flew…

By now, she had a blog…sorry two blogs. One was dedicated to her cooking and the other – for her real self. I feel that these days’ urban girls are more of a food blogger and less of a cook (no offence to anyone). There was no chance in hell that I was not following her on them, as it became the only medium to get to know about her after college. She was like that old coffee addiction…no matter how many times you have had it…the addiction never fades away…and yeah…I was addicted to her.

One day She wrote a poem…a real heartbreaking one…a rare tearjerker even for the Joker. I immediately guessed it what the reason could be. But me being I…again was ditched by confidence and courage to man up myself and walk up to her and let her know that I have always loved her and I am always there for her in any and every sense she wishes me to be.

A year later…

The moment my flight landed…I switched on my mobile phone and messaged her, ‘I am in your city’. I literally had to dig deepest inside me to find this much mettle and character to make this day actually happen. I had to meet her…I had to tell her how much I care for her…how much I love her…how much I need her…before its too late.

Two hours later I was standing outside her home. I rang the doorbell. From behind the door I was very easily able to make out her childish squeaky voice. ‘Who’s there’, she shouted. With no response…she opened the door. For seconds she wasn’t able to recognize me as in these years, I had gone from a Hrithik Roshan (Hair wise) to a Anupam Kher. She was taken aback…the moment she realized…or I should say…she recognized me. Fighting hard with her emotions and trying to resist her tears…she finally gave in…and gave me the warmest hug ever. Time did not have any effect on her eyes…on her cheeks…on her hair…on her fragrance…on her smile…even on her mallu accent…every thing was just the same. For me… time simply stood still

After catching up with some college ‘gupshup’ and what she was up to these days…she immediately remembered that she hasn’t served me anything. She forced me to have lunch and then go back. She even tempted me by saying that she was going to prepare my favorite malabari chicken curry, which she always got for me during college days. I questioned her, ‘How come the recipe for this is not on your blog?’It’s a secret recipe which has been passed on for generations in our family’, she replied. I pleaded her to share it with me…and to my surprise she agreed today. She gave me two tomatoes of average sizes and told me that to get that perfect taste one needs to put two tomatoes of these sizes.

The moment I took the bite…the years started rolling back…tears started finding their way from my eyes to cheeks and to the plate. I confessed why I was there…and what I felt for her over the years with utmost honesty. She simply smiled through her moist eyes and said I knew this all along…but I guess it’s too late. Her eyes guided me to her marriage portrait on the wall at the bottom of which was inscribed, ‘who needs a prince charming when I am already married to a soldier’. I looked back at her…couldn’t swallow any more bite…the lump in my throat was eating me from inside. I was trying desperately hard to hide behind a teary smile…my stupidity…of not noticing that portrait the moment I entered that room. I was too mesmerized to be in her presence that for a moment forgot a world still existed outside this room.

She moved close to me…way too close…held my face in her hands…trying to wipe off the salt water at the same time. She said ‘Hold me…close to you’. She leant forward…our tears met…our eyes met…our lips met…and we met. She shattered me back to reality…before my hands could ignite anything in her, by saying, ‘I am a loyal wife’. My already broken pieces of heart were now further broken…

Life again made a mockery of me…Destiny again was laughing at me…God again was playing with me…and the joker again was smiling through me…

Every night just wanted to sit next to her…be invisible (if given a special power) and see her type the chats…see her expressions…see her big eyes move more than her lips…remove those strands of hair which disturbed her while she worked…listen to her endless talks in her childish malabari accent…sleep with her head on my chest. The next mornings prepare for her, her favorite coffee before she gets up…give her a forehead kiss before I leave for work everyday…and simply be a part, however small it may be, of her life for the rest of my lifetime.

Today when I miss her…I pour myself endless pegs while I m cooking the same Malabari chicken curry with two tomatoes. Read her blogs…look at her graceful saree pics…her eyes…her smile…her hair…mixing the salt on my cheeks with the bitterness in my mouth…till I the time I start seeing her…and…simply go numb.

For all those who love to dance,

For all those who love tomatoes,

For all those who love Malabari chicken curry,

For all those whose love is still hidden in them,

For all those who have confessed it to their love,

And

For all those who still go numb…

Its not a GoodBye…
But it’s a GOOD BYE…aur han…this one is purely fictional 😉

Manas ‘Sameer’ Mukul

 

9

Too Late For Atonement – Chapter – 12

The PEN WARRIORS

The PEN WARRIORS

Too Late For Atonement – Chapter – 12

“Read the previous part of the story here – Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7Chapter 8, Chapter 9Chapter 10 and Chapter 11

The evil, which by now was sown in him, was growing in strength day by day. He wanted this madness that was swallowing him blink by blink…thought by thought…to come to a halt…to an end. It was becoming unbearable for him and with all those noises in his head…’that’ evil was on the verge of taking complete control of sense in his sane mind.

Shekhar got up from the sofa with urgency in his steps…pulled out his laptop from the laptop bag…but this time not to write something. He wanted to get on with ‘it’ as soon as possible. For the past three days…the hours he spent trying to find ‘particular’ information, were the only hours he spent on his laptop. His browser was over working with tabs open with every social media platforms that are out there. The whole scene had a frenzy look to it…as if a drug addict is searching for the last sniff. From Facebook to Twitter…from Instagram to Blogs…from Pinterest to Google+…he was hunting everywhere…searching desperately for that one clue. In fact he didn’t even spare Orkut in an attempt to reach him.

Ting tong…it was the doorbell…

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15 minutes back…

She put on her dancing shoes, as today…was Sunday, she didn’t had to go to school. Roohi was unusually happy today…was being her real self after a long time…her heart was smiling which her lips…her face was mirroring. She put on the latest number from a recent super hit. She was not the best dancer and she knew it too…but today…’who cared’. She was doing step after step…move after move without a single worry of anything. The next soundtrack started and she started too with big ‘Yaaaayyyyy’.

Ting tong…it was the doorbell…

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15 minutes back…

To everyone’s surprise and for Roohi’s happiness…Tara decided to stay back at home today. Although it was a Sunday and she knew that the weekends are even more hectic than the usual working weekdays but she had to…had to take a break…for Roohi…and more significantly to get this money issue sorted out asap. She was in a pensive mood glaring at her bank accounts through online banking. ‘I will have to manage this huge amount someway or the other’, she reminded herself.

She checked her every bank accounts even the ones, which weren’t known to Shekhar and tried to hoard the amount in a single place…so that a single transaction would do the needful. A nervous sheen of sweat had formed on her temple by then. She made a quick glance to make sure whether any one was watching her…with what she was up to.

Ting tong…it was the doorbell…

The moment Roohi heard the doorbell…she hip-hopped towards the main entrance still humming the track that was interrupted by the doorbell. She saw her father with his laptop and tried to locate her mom…but she wasn’t visible behind the slightly open door of her room. She opened the main door with ‘Who is there’ cry to complement it. It was their neighbor, Aryan Ahuja. He picked up Roohi in his arms the moment he entered and in his peculiar way planted a kiss on her cheeks with his stubble stabbing Roohi’s soft pink cheeks. Roohi always hated him for doing that. She grunted, ‘Leave me Aryan Uncle…Leave me’. ‘My sweetie’, he said while letting her go. She immediately ran towards her mom’s room. Shekhar’s chain of thoughts, was brought to a stop by Aryan’s greetings. He immediately shut his laptop and greeted back to Aryan with his effervescent phony smile.

Mommy that Aryan uncle is here’, Roohi announced gasping for breath. Roohi made Tara to rattle out of her current wave of thoughts. With certain reasons of her own, Tara never seemed to be comfortable when Aryan was around…today he just added to nervy feel of the air surrounding her. She walked out to the living room and greeted him, with Roohi trying to playfully hide behind her. Moments later, the room suddenly went quite and it was the air conditioning, which turned out the loudest. Glances were exchanged with courteous smiles.

One look at Aryan…you knew he had something up his sleeves and he was not here just for a Sunday brunch. One look at Shekhar…and you knew he looked at Aryan with genuine friendliness and to whom he can always reach out in case of any help. One look at Roohi…and you could very easily make out her disliking to this ‘ever-kissing, stubble rubbing’ uncle. One look at Tara…and you knew she had some other plans with a clear sense of unease with Aryan’s presence…

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“Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

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“ Read the next part of the story here – Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18 and Chapter 19

14

Too Late For Atonement – Chapter 9

The PEN WARRIORS

The PEN WARRIORS

“Read the previous part of the story here – Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 and Chapter 8

Note: This Chapter was written by Mr. Anirudh Shetty…he wasn’t available because of some unavoidable circumstances so i am filling in by posting 🙂

Too Late For Atonement – Chapter 9

The room was not very large and it didn’t help with stacks of newspapers piled and scattered everywhere. Dimly lit and windows bolted, the room was shut and had a distinct pesticide like smell. He sat at the center with newspapers stacked all around him. His eyes looked around the room, before it settled on a particular stack which seemed fresh.

He checked the date.
18 September, 2012.

He pulled the stack towards him and kept them on his lap. His eyes were now frantically scanning the paper, searching for something.

Indian Newshouse

He took it from the pile and read a few headlines of each page. On reaching the last page, he kept the sheet back.

Indian Daily

He pulled it by its ends and started reading at a faster pace. Few headlines, rest of it was small news articles squeezed between advertisements. He placed it back on the same pile again.

Times in India

He crumpled the papers now as he lifted the newspaper. His mind couldn’t register any words anymore and he was now searching for pictures. Many photos of accidents went by. He turned the pages but none seemed to fit his required criteria. He threw it carelessly.

Deccan Havoc

He tried lifting the next sheet by its edge, but he dropped it midway. Agitated, he threw the rest of the newspapers which were on his lap and he had reached his saturation a little too early today.
He extended his feet and kicked away the stacks in front of him. He fell back, keeping his arm below his head and stared at the ceiling.
He couldn’t read or search anymore.

Gathering 20-25 different newspapers from the newspaper stands spread across the city, and scanning them page by page for the expected news had become his everyday routine. Every morning for ten days now, he started this task with an excitement and ended it with disappointment.

The expected Headline was not there!! Oh how sure he was that night. After what he had seen, there were no doubts.

He closed his eyes and the scenes replayed in his vision.

The screeching of the tyres, BMW toppling and doing somersaults, the look on the driver’s face. At last the silence inside him with chaos and crowd around.

Business Tycoon found dead, drunk driving mishap
A Perfect Cover Story, yet missing in those worthless pieces of scrap called newspapers.

He was agitated, it was not that he wanted a show but he was looking for a proof.
He knew that there was no evidence, but he was searching for a testimony in those newspapers.- a confirmation!

Else what would I tell her?

His face twitched and he furiously scratched his chin. Did he survive? Did I bail out too early? I should have stayed to confirm maybe.

It didn’t seem logical that the news-hungry journalists could miss to cover the story of The Joseph Kurien’s accident. He would always be in the Business news section, It was now his time to find space in casualties, or at least an obituary.

He may not deserve veneration of an obituary, but in this fast-paced world which always goes behind money, it was not about what you deserve. Rather, it was all about what you could buy.

Interrupting his thoughts, he heard someone banging at his door.

Though startled, he remained quiet. He crawled into the bathroom, opening the door slightly and made way inside. He hid there.. till the visitors at the door were tired of banging.

Even after they were gone, he didn’t come out..

 

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“Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

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“ Read the next part of the story here – Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18 and Chapter 19