Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Raka Calling....

Short Story

I dont like waking up early..Not one bit...Just like Obama doesnt like Osama inspite of having such similar sounding names..
I dont like early morning calls on my cell.. Not even on my birthday.. Well 8 in the morning is not exactly early morning, but what the heck!
Anyone who has been my friend knows this.. All my bday wishes start pouring in only after 10 am..


We gonna have a party..turn the music up..
lets get it started..go ahead n move your butt..

I hate my ringtone.. I mean Eminem's Shake that is good all day long, but early morning even he sucks.. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the caller id.. I looked at the watch.. 8 am in the morning..Who could be calling me at this unearthly hour..

Raka calling..



That sent my thoughts running..
Raka is the name I gave to Rakesh. Rakesh was in my college.. I hated him the first day I met him.. He was very in-your-face.. too bubbly if you may call a guy that.. His youthfulness pissed me off.. He would always be chirpy, even in the mornings...every 9am lecture he and the professor would be the only two guys awake in the classroom.. I soo hate early mornings.. More than that I hate morning people


We had different groups, his group was the nerdy one, mine was the influential one..I guess we became friends when my group had a fight with his group.. Like most fights I have no idea of the reason why we were fighting.. It wasnt like a fist fight, but I almost punched him in the face..

He was quite a character this guy Rakesh.. At 6'2" he was the only guy taller than me in the group.. He was what girls like to call tall, dark and handsome..He had this devilish smile which apparently was cute to girls..He was quite the smooth talker and would have girls falling for him wherever he went..the lucky devil.. Hence the name Raka.. Rakesh is too somber for such a character..

There were times when I was jealous of him sure, even after we became best friends.. but thankfully he went after the girls who I considered outta my league.. There was this girl who both of us liked.. When he got to know that he stepped aside.. He actually helped me write poetry (since I am emotionally retarded) for her. I consulted him bout what gifts a girl likes to receive and stuff.. I wanted to gift her an Xbox.. Raka suggested a pair of earrings..(yeah.. tht sounds better)

He had a heart of gold.. He would do anything for a friend.. Hes the one you want to be around if you get in deep shit in life ever...Raka was always up for some masti.. He did spend a small fortune on his friends everytime someone from our group topped an exam or something..Rich dad he must have I thought..lucky devil saala..

There were 6 guys and 3 girls in our group.. He knew each of our birthdays byheart. He was the first to wish me birthday every year, year after year.... Used to wake me up at 8 in the morning on my bday.. devil saala..

"Why do u have to wish me tht early..??"
"Cant wait yaar..Its like a habit..I gotta be the first one to wish you.."
"You have to change tht habit mate.."
"You know wht they say, old habits die hard.. Some habits dont change even after you go.."
"Go where? to the loo?"
"Yeah..... idiot...."


He was also the first to ask for bday treats.. I dont know how he remembered all those dates.. Even today if you ask me Rakesh's bday, I wont be too sure.. I know its in June or was it July? Btw, the girls got a return bday present from him, the guys didnt.. devil salaa..

Around the 3rd year of college, I noticed he was gaining weight..not the kind you gain on the holiday.. He was losing hair too.. He used to miss a lot of classes..
He seemed sick.. and it seemed chronic.. I did confront him.. I wanted to know what was wrong with him and why was he not attending the lectures...But then he would flash a smile and say something hilariously stupid and that would seal the topic for then..


Around the 6th semester he stopped coming to college all together..He wouldnt answer my calls, wouldnt reply to my messages..

One of our classmates used to stay near Rakas house, we got the address from her, and showed up at his house uninformed.. His mom opened the door..

Aunty, Raka home?
Raka?
Er..I mean Rakesh.. I am his college friend..
Oh.. Hes not here.. He is in the hospital..
Why? He sick? viral fever kya?

Tears swelled up her eyes..

I had known Raka for 3 years.. For more than 2 and a half years he had been my best friend.. But not once.. not even one time did he mention he was touched by cancer..

He had been undergoing chemotherapy for the last few months.. And he never told me.. devil saala..

Men have a weird way of showing hurt.. I didnt go to meet him in the hospital.. Everyone from my group and my class went.. His best friend in class didnt..


Then one day he called.. "Kya saale aaj kal milta nahi.."
They say grown men dont cry.. They were damn right.. I didnt cry.. neither did he..

I did go and meet him that afternoon.. 3 days later he left us... Everyone in our class cried...I didnt..

Its been 6 months since he left us.. I miss him sometimes.. But I dont cry..





My string of thoughts was broken by my mom - Your phone is ringing beta..Answer your phone..

I looked at my cell..

Raka calling...

Hel-Hello..
Hello beta.. This is Rakesh's mother calling..
Ah..hello Aunty..
Many happy returns of the day, beta..
Er.. thank you aunty, but.. but.. how did you know?
Oh..Rakesh had set an alarm on his cell for your birthday..So I called you on his behalf..


Tears ran down my cheeks..
Hes gone, but he was still the first one to call me on my birthday.. Devil saala..

Monday, September 21, 2009

The shy girl in my class...

Short Story

I still remember the day I first saw her. Its kinda amazing if you ask me. Its amazing coz its been 15 years since the first day that I saw her and I still remeber it like it was yesterday.

She was the perfect shy girl. The kind who hides behind her mother when guests come over... It was the first day of the first grade. I remember kids crying all around me. Some clung to their mothers, some threw tantrums. If I didnt know better, I would say they were going to whip us and make us work. But they didnt, actually compared to what I am doing now, those days were fun. Actually, compared to any days those days were fun.

She walked past me with her eyes fixed to the ground. Her bag was pink and so was her complexion. I love innocence. I guess all men do. I think we value it so much coz of our utter incapability to be innocent ourselves.

She went inside the classroom and took the first bench. I took the second. Right behind her. Then the teacher came and asked me to move to the last bench. I hate being tall. Apparently I was blocking the view of the blackboard for the guys sitting behind me. So I got up and took the last bench. And that was the end of that.

I strictly believe our choices dont change overtime. We like the same kind of people all our lives. If you dont agree, ask yourself who was your best friend in school and whos your best friend now (if both are the same guy, there are fewer people luckier than you), then try to analyse their qualities- you ll find that a lot of those qualities match.

I liked the same girl all my school life. People wonder when I tell them that I couldnt talk to her for almost all of primary school, except for the one time when we had an exam and I forgot a pencil. She was sitting three benches in front of me (the closest we had been till then). I got up from my seat and asked her for a pencil. She looked at me for around 4 seconds. Then quietly took out a pencil and gave it to me-
"This pencil writes very fast", she said.
Then I didnt know why she said that. But years later she told me that she had seen my mother scold me for not being able to complete the paper on time.

Now dont translate this into love. She didnt love me then. Maybe she liked me. But not more than that. I think till girls dont reach puberty, the only people they can love is their parents. I, i loved her. Men can love at any age. Infact men can love anyone at any age, maybe they are more individualistic or stuff.

As we grew up, her liking for me increased. Or maybe it was just my imagination. But I found her glancing at me. She now tells me that she used to glance at me coz I used to keep staring at her! It would be impolite for her not to even glance. We men are idiots, we give it all away.

As she grew, so did her curves. I would be lying if I said while looking at her my eyes or my mind didnt go astray. Puberty is such a gift. It suddenly gives losers like me, enough courage to say something that we have been wanting to say since like 7-8 years or something...

We were in the 8th grade I guess. I asked her to wait after school. Apparently I had some important stuff about Annual day that I had to discuss with her.

After school as I walked down the steps with her, I thought to myself - I can walk these steps all my life with her.

I held her hand, softly at first. She stopped but she didnt pull her hand away. Her eyes were fixed on the stairs. I thought of all the things I could say. You practise saying things in front of the mirror and stuff, but it just doesnt work. I thought of all the cool things I could say and then came up with this -
"I wish these stairs would never end."

Really! I came up with that. I was so proud of myself. She looked at me, then held my hand firmly. I took that as a yes.

Years later she told me that that line was the lamest excuse to hold her hand. I pity all those guys whom I have suggested this line. No wonder all my male friends are single.

After our board exams, we made sure we gave the same entrance exams. Both of us wanted to get into engineering. She got better scores than me (like always) and chose Electronics in a top notch college. I managed to get in Computers in the third best college in the area. She cancelled her admission, much against the wishes of her parents to be with me. She gave up electronics and took up computers for me. Remember I told you a girl loves only after a certain age? I knew that she loved me then.

We gave the CAT last year. She again got a better score and made it in MDI HR in the first round. I was lucky to get in in the last round in the same class. But I got in. Thank God for that.

Today, sometimes, when we go to mess together for lunch, she walks beside me...her eyes fixed to the ground... I whisper something in her ear and she smiles.

Even today when I look at her, I sometimes still see the same innocent girl I had met on the first day of school. Here we are now- we attended the same school for 12 years, then went to the same engineering college in the same class and now are in the same class in MDI. God had a script written for us, didnt he? I love the fact that there is someone who knows me more than I know myself. I hope someday I get to know her, better than she knows me.

I find it amazing... shes the same girl who once offered me a fast pencil so that I could finish my paper on time and not get a scolding from my mother... and here she is walking next to me to the mess of our MBA college. We walk up the stairs to the first floor mess and I say -
"I wish these stairs would never end."
And she bursts out laughing.



P.S. Dedicated to Ek and Sak (names abbreviated to protect identity) of MDI, Gurgaon who have been in the same class since the first grade, all through their engineering and now MBA. Someone wrote a script for you guys!

Btw, they are not my classmates as in I know them from my school days and almost always talk to them over the phone. This is more of their story than mine, hence the dedication. Goodluck guys.