MISS(ed) SMILE

Remember those posters which say SMILE, it costs nothing. Well those posters are such a fabrication of truth. Last night I saw one of these at the railway station, I was off to receive my friend. It was around half past nine and as usual the place was just like three dogs mating. Over-crowded. Some say I was lucky enough to get a seat on the platform. To be frank it sucked. I was sitting between a lady who was stinking of local alcohol and a guy who was touching himself in his sleep.

Well thank God; he was kind enough because I just lift my foot as they were hurting and a kid in front of me pukes. If this was not it, the squeaky clamor tore my ears apart. Everything in the station, living or dead made some noise or the other to kill my tolerance. And finally I decided to go outside the station and wait for her.

How do I always manage to end up into something I never want to be in and yet smile at it and say ‘Worse things happen ’. This was one of those abhorical situations. I get up and start walking towards the entrance talking on my phone. What was supposed to be a very easy process (stand, walk, reach and exit) turned out to be a calamity because I just missed the bottleneck of the process. ‘Look Around’. And I bump into this girl.  

*Girl. Fair. Hair, pitch dark black, a little longer than the shoulder length. Eyes sparkling coffee brown. Pierced nose. Dark yellow tee with a cartoon of Marge Simpsons. Black boots with a blue skin tight denim*

She was just the way my grandmother used to describe the princesses in her fairytales. Especially with that butterfly tattoo on her neck (Oh damn, I make such a bad writer. How come I forgot to plant the tattoo in her description) she seriously was looking GODDAMN CUTE. I somehow managed to get a sorry out of my mouth. All she said was “That’s ok.” And she started moving.

*That’s ok*.  That’s it??? Come on. A slap or at least a couple of swears. She was just too pretty for me to let her go with just a “That’s ok”. I desperately wanted to talk to her more. She was one of those kinds, the Anne Hathaway kind with a sprinkle of Penelope Cruz in her. So I just decide to go and try my luck. If the crossbreed turns back, I go talk to her otherwise I stay and stare (actually letch). After a solid two minutes of Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge stereotype I discover that my luck isn’t lucky enough so I stand and letch.

I sneaked around whenever possible to just get a quick look at her. Of all girls I’ve met, I’ve always heard a wonderful philosophy from them that a girl will instantly get to know if a guy is checking her out, even if he is a mile away. I never believed them. But after seeing what was happening in front of me I was forced to believe the tabooed philosophy. Because this time when I tried to get a peek at her, she was standing a lot closer to me than she was a couple of minutes ago (say like as close as the 6 yard box from the goal, she was standing on the Dee line before).

Now  she was squiggling her hair with one hand and talking on the phone with the other like a 6 year old who just got a new toy phone which made her look even more prettier. I just couldn’t resist myself from smiling (She was way too hyper-active). The worse part starts here because this time she catches me letching at her and gives me an aggressive Sreeshanth grin. I thought of calling the game off but I just didn’t want to lose her off my sight.

She caught me a couple of more times letching at her but I still didn’t stop because I just wanted to talk to her. If I could not pull a conversation with her at least I could make her pull one. This went on for another ten minutes and I knew this was leading to nothing. So I finally decide to go to her and start the conversation.

The feeling is just like the one you get before you sky – dive or jump off a tall water slide. You so badly want to do it but still the lump inside says ‘You know you don’t wanna do it’. But still you do it. So I went to do it. But then some bitch who is always known for opening her mouth at the wrong time comes up with ‘Krupya dyaan de Dilli jaane wali rail 2627 platform number 2 pe aa rahi hai’ and that too with a Dolby Digital sound’s for the deprived.

Bullocks.

She picks her bag and leaves for the train. I was standing two yards away from her like a jackass. Of all the things I had been thinking for the past half hour, talking to her topped the list and here I was looking at her going away. But then as always the masochistic ego proves its existence. The famous alter-ego says ‘Chuck her. She wasn’t that good (inspired by The Fox and the Grapes Epic’. Things would have been good if it had ended there. But miracles do happen when you LEAST want them to happen.

She climbs in her compartment. Then when you expect the train to move she peeks out and SMILES.  And now the train moves.

All I did for the next ten seconds was just smile back. *Damn. Number… Name… Something… Holy Fart!!! Missed her* That was what I did for the next thirty minutes after the ten seconds.

Now she just remains in my boob memory as Ms. SMILE reminding me how big a boob i was. Actually a wuss. The list goes on.

*MISS SMILE… MISS(ed) SMILE*

Dedicated to Nikhil Narsapur (The WUSS).

Eat well sleep safe.. Take care.. Have a Nice Day.. Sayonara.. =)

Chutney Case

chutney 

n.

           a pickle of Indian origin, made from fruit, vinegar, spices, sugar, etc. mango chutney.

Chutney Case, that’s what I called her. The girl who ruined my primary school experience (especially my 2^nd standard). I still remember it was an English class. Nirmala Miss was teaching ‘Kutchu forgot his Glasses’ and suddenly the peon (Kasturi) comes and calls Nirmala Miss outside. So before going she called Pooja and asks her to ‘mind’ the class.

Pooja walks up to the teachers table where a wooden box neatly decorated with a blue color paper having pictures of flowers on it and named ‘CHAAK BOX’ (Chalk Box) was kept. She picks up a yellow chalk and writes in block letters on the board, ‘NAMES’ and underlines it with a curvy line.

The whole class went quite as soon as she wrote it because everyone knew that whosoever name would be on the board would have to taste ‘THREE HITS’ on the ‘KNUCKLES’ and had to ‘KNEEL DOWN, HANDS UP’ for the whole class. Nirmala Miss was another name for terror in the whole school.

I had already forgotten to do my last class’s homework and was trying hard to finish it now. In that rush I knocked my rubber which popped out my table and fell down behind my bench. So I turn back and pick it up. But what was terrifying was that my name was on the board.

I could see ’KIKO’ written in big jokerman handwriting below the heading ‘Names’. I got very angry because I was not talking so I call Pooja and say, ‘I wasn’t TALKING ya’.

‘Shut up man. I seeing you back turned’, she replied.

‘No ya, I not TALK at all. My RUBBER fall down ya, GOD PROMISE. Rub my NAME ya’, I said.

She was adamant. She started acting as though she was the  class leader. Technically I got pissed off and I scream, ’Oi STUPID, how many times I tell ya, I not talking. Rub my name or I tell everyone never ever, ever never talk to you. You MONKEY, DONKEY, IDI…’, before I could complete my sentence I could hear someone screaming out my name aloud.

By the voice, I could make out that it was pleasant. I look at the door and see a huge dark lady with black fat glasses. She had a waistline of 48’ and her teeth bunnied out with the front one half broken. She never looked pleased or happy. She was Nirmala Miss.

I knew she had heard the conversation and was not happy with it. She calls me to the teachers table. I could look at her grin and say that she was surely going to hurt me real bad. She takes out the iron scale from her attendance register and asks me to fist my hand. What succeeded were TEN HARD KNUCKLE SHOTS and a week full of KNEELING DOWN outside the class.

For one week everyone in the school saw a little kid kneeling down outside the class. I had become the topic of sympathy and that was like a candle of embarrassment for me. It burnt me from inside. I started hating POOJA. That was the last time I spoke to POOJA. I started calling her CHUTNEY CASE and spread the CHUTNEY CASE fever to the whole school. I started teasing her, gluing her books and every possible thing to make her cry. I made her life miserable in school. Three years later, her dad got transfer and she left the school. And in a due course of time CHUTNEY CASE was just a bitter memory. But I hated her to the core. I was her worst nightmare in the school. That was the story twelve years ago. A tale of HATRED and REVENGE.

Today morning I just signed into my Facebook account and found that I had a got a friend request from a girl named POOJA M. A click later I found out that it was CHUTNEY CASE.

What I’ve learnt: I just realized how dumb I had been. It was like the puzzle was complete. It was like a circle. Starting everything from the beginning. This world was so small for a heavy word like HATRED. And it is not peace that we should spread but love. Because today PEACE just means that you have a BIGGER STICK than the OTHERS. Spread LOVE and PEACE PREVAILS.


P. S. http://www.chutneycase.com/search?updated-max=2010-01-10T23%3A39%3A00%2B05%3A30&max-results=4


The REAL INSPIRATION...

Eat well sleep safe.. Take care.. Have a Nice Day.. Sayonara.. =)