Its been a while now. Since the calls stopped coming. Precisely two days. I have waited every call with an expectant almost pregnant impulse within my heart. No, I know there is nothing to be worried about. Its just that I have never been in such a state. Ever before.OH shit!! This is why I never blog during the day. I just burnt my lunch. God, when will I marry. I need someone to really help me out with things like these. But then, if a girlfriend is willing to move in with me, its heaven! No, Wait. I think I’ll have to get a place of my own first. Yeah, that’d be better. Where was I? Before my aloos were fried deeper than deep fried? Yeah, the calls. I have a cell phone. But it’s useless. It never seems to be the appropriate receiving instrument for such a call. Its far too trivial a mechanism. It does not provide you with the formality for such an occasion. Imagine, you call somebody about a date. You never know where she/he is. For all that you think, she/he might be out snogging your best friend. Sorry, I have this bad habit of getting carried away. It has been nerve wracking for me. I am under tremendous pressure. It started with a casual question. Always the casual question. So deceptive in its appearance. On the back bench, with the silence of an empty classroom and in the company of friendly strangers. It always happens like that. What was that question?? Oh, it was of the deadliest sort...
“Do you like me?”
Now this is a very ordinary sentence structure. Sorry, not even a sentence ( I am a literature student, for chrissakes!!! ) the tone is simple and casual. But the occasion always highly formal. What do you say when a girl you know you like, asks you such a question? Ask any boy, he won’t know the answer.. I swear to god, he won’t. You say,’ I like you’ – The predicative being ‘LIKE’. It puts your relationship under question. You just like ‘like’ me. No, I meant I really like you. Ooookk.. That long Ok is a sign of a lot of things. You try not answering and you’ll be nagged for the rest of your life. It’s always so with girls. They ask for the truth, but they want to hear something else. You never know what they want to hear, unless you spoke the truth. And after doing that, the conversation gets unpleasant. Trust me.
Speak a word about love, and you are a ‘ladies man’. You know to answer things, don’t you? Smooth talker. Casanova. What the F… You asked a question. Do you or do you not want the answer. Why can’t you take words for the literal value of it? No, it has to be emotive. It has to come from the heart. Oh yeah!! How’d you know where it came from. The tone says it all. Perfect. If you know all these things, how come you don’t help me out in intonation studies in grammar?? Forget it.. I don’t remember it. Ok.Ok. I have had this conversation before. So I know how it goes. But the constant repetition of the question baffles me. What importance does this question hold in women’s life?
What’d I answer? I knew you would love to ask that.I mean, seriously, who can hold his horses when the narrator is speaking of his suffering. People love to hear that. They’ll go ‘ Aw man, Tough luck! Fat chance! Bad one! Deep shit!” but they’ll be thinking “Wait till I get this story around”. At least somebody else’s foolishness gets their idiocy out of the spotlight. At least it is like this in colleges. But then, I’ve had my share of infamy. So, I might as well tell you. I spoke the truth. As plainly as I could.
“Shit!!! How time flies.. Sorry, have a lecture to catch. See you”