You know the guy who can pick up any girl? I'm him. On crack.

Taaliyan!

Ok. The human need to be praised is at work again. And while writing a blog is perhaps too great a price to pay for this, I would do it anyway. So what is it that I am gonna write now?

I will write a love story. In fact mother of all love stories. A story where participants will defy every behavioral pattern that they are expected to follow.

She was the girl. She was ambitious. She was strong. She had the capability of being rationale and romantic at the same time. He was shy. Almost always self-conscious. He thought that he was intelligent and could deliver the nicest lines if situation demanded it. He believed in being compatible. Compatibility almost being synonymous to making compromises. The idea of love was too ambiguous to him. And more he read about it, more he saw it on television and movies more he got convinced that it was overrated. But as everyone is, even he was unsure if his longing for ‘love’ love was one of the reasons that he refused to believe its existence. He was not sure what he wanted. But he was sure that he wanted it real bad.

They were friends. As they always are. The girl always motivated him. She wanted him to succeed. He knew that she meant well but at times he wondered if there was nothing else to talk between them but career. Life was routine. It went on. On. And on. And He thought. While he knew that the girl was quite intelligent he was not sure whether she would be as intelligent as him to be able to comprehend the ‘love’ love that he was capable to be in with any girl. More he thought about it more he was pleased with himself. After going through a bunch of ‘Traits: In my perfect match’ of a bunch of people in Orkut and laughing at their stupidity for quite some time he came to the conclusion that there existed no criteria for love but one. The girl must be able to surprise him. He thought about writing a book where his perfect girl will star and how he would change the way world expected their ‘perfects’ to be. But then he thought that he lacked the experience and hence the ‘intimate incidences’ that make readers go ‘Awww.’ He could count the girls that he knew and hence the potential love-interests on his fingertips. One. Two. Three. Four. Two of them had already said ‘Bhaiyya’ in a very casual way, but he counted them anyway.

‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’ She asked.
‘No. I don’t.’ he answered trying to be as confident as he always was.
‘Why?’ She believed in going to depth of matters which he almost always found very annoying.
‘Because then you will be confusing infatuation with love. Wont you?’ He was pleased with himself. But then simultaneously too aware that she knew that he was too pleased with himself, he tried to maintain a grave look. He broke the silence.
‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’
‘I don’t know!’ she said looking at the sky. And then at a young couple sitting right next to them. He knew that she wanted to fall in love as much as he did.

This ‘I don’t know!’ had made the already bitter black coffee that he had ordered almost undrinkable. This girl confused him. And he had always admired her for that. He had thought that the girl wanted an ‘objective’ discussion on love and particularly ‘love at first sight’ when she first started talking about it. And now she had chosen to suddenly end the conversation with an ‘I don’t know!’ It was insulting to his non-existing ego. He could be as intriguing as her and if given the chance he would have chosen a different path altogether.

Suddenly time seemed to move backward. The waiter brought the black coffee and chilled ice tea. He looked at her. She was beautiful. But now he was prepared.

‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’ She asked.
‘Before going into this question, I think we ought to address a more important question; which is “do I believe in love to begin with?”’ He sipped from his cup.
‘Do you believe in love?’ She was slightly easy on him, he realized.
‘Yes!’ He answered although he was not sure whether she or he, himself believed it.
‘What is love?’
‘Love is like Pi often approximated to 22/7 or 3.14. Natural, irrational and very important.’ And he laughed.
‘Can’t you be serious for a minute?’ She frowned.

And the Black Coffee was once again undrinkable.


TBC.

4 comments:

  1. Donst!!! crack maar diya hai ....the best blog ever ho gaya hai ye to...and the narrator tht u r ,hiding behind the anonymous "He" ,mujhe lagta hai ki kahi suni hai ...but the best part is the conclusion :P

     
  2. :-)

    achha likha hai...and the concept of Pi is the latest definition of Love that i know :D phod diya tune to! :-)

     
  3. donst, abe donst. kya bataun ab! chhote mote crack toh main maarte hee rahta hun! :P

    mishti, hehe! thankies! Pi wala taapaa hua hai. waise sab kuch taapaa hua hai. as they say ki hide the source and you will have something original to boast about. anyway, in this case this vital input of defining love in terms of Pi was given by none other than the 'donst' above.

     
  4. bakait post!!
    i can smell the "inspiration" though (as our Indian music directors would have put it)