This is a true story.
I had just come out from a two-hour session in the gym. I was marveling at my six-packs when the phone rang. It was Uma again and she was begging me to meet her.
Ok fine - everything beyond this point is true.
The year was 2007 when I was a student in Jaipur. It was the year of romance and love. Err, it was also the year when Kareena and Shahid Kapoor broke up, and it was the year when Rizwanur Rahman was honour-killed by his in-laws. But it was the year when “Aap Ka Suroor - The Real Love Story” was released. So FTW.
I’ve digressed. We (the famous “Hum Baraah”) were sitting in our CAT coaching classes. We had already helped Deepak (name changed) figure out how many upward steps he needed to take if he wanted to reach a higher storey in an escalator going down, when he could have just taken the escalator going up; and were on our way to helping a dog catch a thief who for some awesome reason chose to run in strange patterns (disclaimer: no real dogs were hurt in the whole process). In short, we were developing our logical thinking skills. It was the time when the free SMS pack was unleashed on pre-paid customers. We were yet to reach an era of Idea 3G when our phones would help us forget sex, but at least free messaging helped us forget our classes.
I’ve digressed again. A sheet was circulated for us to enter our names. We had just been taught to approach a problem from all angles. So, the ideal student in me immediately flipped the page, to find other names and phone numbers there. One of the entries was Uma (name not changed for its sheer classiness and impact) (number withheld – I won’t do what the Amitabh of KBC did).
Just to show I have no hard feelings towards KBC, and also since this blog is getting a little one-sided, let me ask you a quiz question. You can leave your responses in the comments section. What sound does Uma represent most closely, when said properly with the right emphasis on certain syllables? Is it
A) A slapping sound.
B) The sound produced when bat hits ball.
C) Sound produced while kissing.
D) Sound produced when Manmohan Singh makes a speech.
Ok we have a story to complete, so getting back to it. We exchanged three SMSes (‘Wats up’, ‘Who’s this’, ‘You Forgot?’ types) and everything was going according to the ‘Hitchhiker's Guide to the Most Boring Conversations’, when she called. I could only evade her questions about my identity for a while. In most situations, the name Manish is enough to get you out of trouble, so I told her I was Manish, immediately regretting it, in case she approached the coaching institute. “Mahesh?” she asked, throwing a rope at me. “Bhatt, of course” I responded, accepting it with glee. Then she bombarded me with a series of questions, even giving me multiple options on a couple of counts (<sigh, insert another KBC joke here>).
It made me uncomfortable when she asked me if I was the same person who used to call her earlier. I had once read a story where a person makes crank calls to random people and tells them he knows their ‘secret’ (Abhay Deol style in ZNMD). Then one day he ends up calling a gangster who manages to trace him and kills him. Now, I was never the types who are sure what exactly they wanted to do with life, but ending it was never a consideration.
Then she said she wanted to meet me. Immediately Don came to my mind. “Mujhe do tarah ki ladki pasand nahi. Ek wo, jo mere pass aane mein waqt lagade, aur doosri jo bahut jaldi aa jae”. I did not tell her this, though. We hung up without having arrived at any conclusion.
I had just had a heavy dinner and was lying flat on my stomach in my hostel room. I had just burped when the phone rang. It was Uma again and she was ordering me to meet her.
Over the next twelve hours, (over SMS and phone) she repeatedly asked me to meet her. Her tone ranged from threat to order to plea. She called me again the next afternoon, asking me to meet her near McDonald’s in MI Road. I suggested alternatives. I couldn’t have allowed her to start dictating terms so early in our relationship. She didn’t listen. It was at that moment when I felt ‘the spark’ for the first time.
I told her I won’t be coming. She said she would still wait and expected me to come. My friends and I discussed the various endings that this story could possibly take. Not many were pleasant. But one of them ended with me celebrating the golden jubilee of my marriage with her, in the company of our children and grandchildren. Taking risks was another thing I was taught.
We set out well before the scheduled hour. Rohit and Manish went in one bike, while Poonam rode me in his scooty.
To be continued... [here]
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