my own dictionary term for it—my hopeless days!
She would be irritated with every little thing. Every action–reaction of mine would go for a toss. Logic, rationale and, most importantly, common sense will, all of a sudden, fail to exist. Mood swings drive everything. And I, an author of a national bestseller, would go from being her boyfriend to becoming her puppy at her command.
And it wasn’t only limited to handling her tantrums. I had gone as far as standing in the women’s section of the chemist shop, trying to hide my embarrassment and gather my strength, all at the same time, before having to speak up and announce what I was looking for.
More than becoming her monthly problem, it all had become my monthly problem.
I attend my conference call. We don’t go on the planned outing. Back at her place she is sad and isn’t talking to me. Alone in my home I am being creative working on a jingle to please her: ‘Jaana suno, kuch to kaho, hamse yu naa tum rutha karo!’
Fifteen
Anthony had to go to Germany to handle a field installation of our product. He called me in the morning to update me on this unplanned trip and, more importantly, to inform me that his Volkswagen would be in my custody for another day till he returned.
‘Love you, Anthony. And you better work hard!’ I teased him over the phone.
‘Bastard!’ he yelled at me and then laughingly said, ‘Take care of it more than you take care of your girl.’
I utilized this opportunity to the fullest. Instead of catching my bus I drove the car to the office. I consciously matched my timing with that of the bus so that I could overtake it and show off to the others travelling in the bus to their respective offices.
His car had the inbuilt function of linking my cellphone, through Bluetooth, with the car’s speakers and the overhead installed microphone. I had heard Anthony taking calls by using the controls on his steering wheel. With that system one doesn’t even need to wear a hands-free. On one occasion Anthony had taken his wife’s call who wasn’t aware that I was sitting next to Anthony. She kissed into the phone so noisily that it echoed in the car’s woofers. Anthony had been embarrassed.
I synchronized my mobile with the car’s system and then I dialled Sanchit’s number.
‘Hey, are you guys in the 9.10 a.m. bus?’
‘Yes. Why didn’t you show up today?’
‘Look to your right.’
Sanchit, who was at the third window seat from the front, turned to look out. He smiled first and then waved at me. Others followed. I waved at them back. For a short while I was a hero.
‘
Kiski churai hai?
’ Rishab grabbed Sanchit’s phone to talk to me.
‘Anthony ki.’
‘Vo jiske saath tu pool khelta hai?’
‘Haan.’
‘Raat ko ghumne ka plan banaatey hai phir. Bol, chalega?’
‘Chalunga, but Simar ke saath
… Hahahaha …’
Rishab cursed me before putting the phone down.
I waved goodbye, pushed the accelerator and overtook the bus.
In the evening I left the office early to pick Simar up. I had already spoken to her about our plans in the evening.
I met her at the gate of her hostel. She was wearing a purple dress. It had a thin lacy strap running across her shoulders. The shades of purple got a little darker just above her knee where that dress ended. Her legs were smooth, long and attractive. She was wearing a pair of silver stilettos to match her dress.
We drove out of the city towards the east. It took us fifteen minutes to get on to the highway. Simar connected her little light blue iPod Nano to the music system of the car and some peppy numbers came on. The ride had just turned amazing. The weather that day was awesome. We drove by the countryside. On our way we passed various big and small hamlets. Every other house had a lush green courtyard. Some among them had their domestic animals harnessed under bamboo shelters. Simar got very excited when she saw a few white horses with styled hair at their hooves. They
She would be irritated with every little thing. Every action–reaction of mine would go for a toss. Logic, rationale and, most importantly, common sense will, all of a sudden, fail to exist. Mood swings drive everything. And I, an author of a national bestseller, would go from being her boyfriend to becoming her puppy at her command.
And it wasn’t only limited to handling her tantrums. I had gone as far as standing in the women’s section of the chemist shop, trying to hide my embarrassment and gather my strength, all at the same time, before having to speak up and announce what I was looking for.
More than becoming her monthly problem, it all had become my monthly problem.
I attend my conference call. We don’t go on the planned outing. Back at her place she is sad and isn’t talking to me. Alone in my home I am being creative working on a jingle to please her: ‘Jaana suno, kuch to kaho, hamse yu naa tum rutha karo!’
Fifteen
Anthony had to go to Germany to handle a field installation of our product. He called me in the morning to update me on this unplanned trip and, more importantly, to inform me that his Volkswagen would be in my custody for another day till he returned.
‘Love you, Anthony. And you better work hard!’ I teased him over the phone.
‘Bastard!’ he yelled at me and then laughingly said, ‘Take care of it more than you take care of your girl.’
I utilized this opportunity to the fullest. Instead of catching my bus I drove the car to the office. I consciously matched my timing with that of the bus so that I could overtake it and show off to the others travelling in the bus to their respective offices.
His car had the inbuilt function of linking my cellphone, through Bluetooth, with the car’s speakers and the overhead installed microphone. I had heard Anthony taking calls by using the controls on his steering wheel. With that system one doesn’t even need to wear a hands-free. On one occasion Anthony had taken his wife’s call who wasn’t aware that I was sitting next to Anthony. She kissed into the phone so noisily that it echoed in the car’s woofers. Anthony had been embarrassed.
I synchronized my mobile with the car’s system and then I dialled Sanchit’s number.
‘Hey, are you guys in the 9.10 a.m. bus?’
‘Yes. Why didn’t you show up today?’
‘Look to your right.’
Sanchit, who was at the third window seat from the front, turned to look out. He smiled first and then waved at me. Others followed. I waved at them back. For a short while I was a hero.
‘
Kiski churai hai?
’ Rishab grabbed Sanchit’s phone to talk to me.
‘Anthony ki.’
‘Vo jiske saath tu pool khelta hai?’
‘Haan.’
‘Raat ko ghumne ka plan banaatey hai phir. Bol, chalega?’
‘Chalunga, but Simar ke saath
… Hahahaha …’
Rishab cursed me before putting the phone down.
I waved goodbye, pushed the accelerator and overtook the bus.
In the evening I left the office early to pick Simar up. I had already spoken to her about our plans in the evening.
I met her at the gate of her hostel. She was wearing a purple dress. It had a thin lacy strap running across her shoulders. The shades of purple got a little darker just above her knee where that dress ended. Her legs were smooth, long and attractive. She was wearing a pair of silver stilettos to match her dress.
We drove out of the city towards the east. It took us fifteen minutes to get on to the highway. Simar connected her little light blue iPod Nano to the music system of the car and some peppy numbers came on. The ride had just turned amazing. The weather that day was awesome. We drove by the countryside. On our way we passed various big and small hamlets. Every other house had a lush green courtyard. Some among them had their domestic animals harnessed under bamboo shelters. Simar got very excited when she saw a few white horses with styled hair at their hooves. They
Similar Books
