for cooking.’
‘I hate exercising and I love sweets,’ I yawped.
‘Try dancing,’ he suggested, and then realizing that he was getting late, he quickly put on his snow jacket, said bye, and left for his class.
I turned on my iPod and sauntered out to the balcony adjoining my room. I could see parts of the Gurgaon metro line being constructed from my balcony. Further down was NH 8, lined with interestingly shaped office buildings that were defining Gurgaon’snew character. A little on the right was MG Road or the Malls of Gurgaon road. No new construction was happening now as the builders were beginning to feel the aftermath of the US real-estate crash. As I stood leaning against the railing, I felt a sudden gush of wind hit my face and cover it with a layer of fine dust. The pure, soft snowflakes caressing Jay’s window were a stark contrast to the tiny dust particles that slapped mine. Yet a snowflake was nothing but water vapour condensed around a speck of dust. Was our love strong enough to overpower the cultural differences and keep our hearts bound together?
The Art of Rejection
‘Rejecting a guy could be tough,’ I thought to myself, adjusting the height of my ergonomic chair, as the computer booted to life.
I mean, especially if you made the advances that led him to believe that you love him. It’s almost like taking your best friend out for a treat at Pizza Hut and then telling her that her thighs were bulging out or her under arms sagging, and that she better stick to having salad. The idea is the same. You don’t intend to hurt. You do it for the other person’s benefit. Although, such benevolent deeds are rarely perceived as kind gestures.
I remember my first time. It was a week before the Class X board exams and I was finding the build up to the D-day quite stressful. This tall, lean guy had moved into the neighbourhood two years ago and we were both part of a study group. I knew he had a soft corner for me, but I didn’t feel particularly attracted to him. I was actually besotted with another tall, fair guy in the group. One day we were studying together in his house and I felt this sudden primal desire to kiss. I knew it was wrong for I felt nothing for him, but overwhelmed by the teenage hormones raging through my body, I went ahead and snogged him. Gosh! I feel disgusted now to even think about it. The next day, we went out for a walk in the evening and he sang this romantic number from
Bobby
:
‘Mujhe kuch kahna hai, pahle tum, pahle tum’
. The moment of passion was, however,gone and I found myself unable to reciprocate his feelings. I felt suffocated and uncomfortable, but I kept quiet. One day before the exams, when his repeated phone calls began to become a nuisance and I could no longer fake feelings, I confessed that it was all a big mistake. It was painful while the showdown lasted, but I was glad I had done the right thing. Next day, when the teacher called me up after the exam and asked if I knew anything about this guy who hadn’t shown up for exam, I discovered to my horror that he had jumped off the building. Luckily, he stayed on the first floor and there was a pile of cut grass below his balcony, so he escaped with a few scratches and a minor fracture in his hand. I have never eaten so much comfort food in my life as I ate that week. Thankfully, he didn’t take any names and my parents overlooked my consumption of ten litres of ice cream as board exam stress.
It took me a couple of more accidents to learn that the key to short and sweet, guiltless rejection was in providing the rejected person with a reason. It was not good enough to tell him that he was this extraordinarily handsome, nice and considerate, simply too-good-for-me fellow and actually it was I who didn’t deserve him. We all know that ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ means exactly the reverse. There has to be a more solid rationale like ‘it is too soon after my last break-up’, or that ‘I can’t risk
‘I hate exercising and I love sweets,’ I yawped.
‘Try dancing,’ he suggested, and then realizing that he was getting late, he quickly put on his snow jacket, said bye, and left for his class.
I turned on my iPod and sauntered out to the balcony adjoining my room. I could see parts of the Gurgaon metro line being constructed from my balcony. Further down was NH 8, lined with interestingly shaped office buildings that were defining Gurgaon’snew character. A little on the right was MG Road or the Malls of Gurgaon road. No new construction was happening now as the builders were beginning to feel the aftermath of the US real-estate crash. As I stood leaning against the railing, I felt a sudden gush of wind hit my face and cover it with a layer of fine dust. The pure, soft snowflakes caressing Jay’s window were a stark contrast to the tiny dust particles that slapped mine. Yet a snowflake was nothing but water vapour condensed around a speck of dust. Was our love strong enough to overpower the cultural differences and keep our hearts bound together?
The Art of Rejection
‘Rejecting a guy could be tough,’ I thought to myself, adjusting the height of my ergonomic chair, as the computer booted to life.
I mean, especially if you made the advances that led him to believe that you love him. It’s almost like taking your best friend out for a treat at Pizza Hut and then telling her that her thighs were bulging out or her under arms sagging, and that she better stick to having salad. The idea is the same. You don’t intend to hurt. You do it for the other person’s benefit. Although, such benevolent deeds are rarely perceived as kind gestures.
I remember my first time. It was a week before the Class X board exams and I was finding the build up to the D-day quite stressful. This tall, lean guy had moved into the neighbourhood two years ago and we were both part of a study group. I knew he had a soft corner for me, but I didn’t feel particularly attracted to him. I was actually besotted with another tall, fair guy in the group. One day we were studying together in his house and I felt this sudden primal desire to kiss. I knew it was wrong for I felt nothing for him, but overwhelmed by the teenage hormones raging through my body, I went ahead and snogged him. Gosh! I feel disgusted now to even think about it. The next day, we went out for a walk in the evening and he sang this romantic number from
Bobby
:
‘Mujhe kuch kahna hai, pahle tum, pahle tum’
. The moment of passion was, however,gone and I found myself unable to reciprocate his feelings. I felt suffocated and uncomfortable, but I kept quiet. One day before the exams, when his repeated phone calls began to become a nuisance and I could no longer fake feelings, I confessed that it was all a big mistake. It was painful while the showdown lasted, but I was glad I had done the right thing. Next day, when the teacher called me up after the exam and asked if I knew anything about this guy who hadn’t shown up for exam, I discovered to my horror that he had jumped off the building. Luckily, he stayed on the first floor and there was a pile of cut grass below his balcony, so he escaped with a few scratches and a minor fracture in his hand. I have never eaten so much comfort food in my life as I ate that week. Thankfully, he didn’t take any names and my parents overlooked my consumption of ten litres of ice cream as board exam stress.
It took me a couple of more accidents to learn that the key to short and sweet, guiltless rejection was in providing the rejected person with a reason. It was not good enough to tell him that he was this extraordinarily handsome, nice and considerate, simply too-good-for-me fellow and actually it was I who didn’t deserve him. We all know that ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ means exactly the reverse. There has to be a more solid rationale like ‘it is too soon after my last break-up’, or that ‘I can’t risk
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