Spicy Tales of My Life

P.s: Please leave your comments at the end, even if got some not so nice ones.

Thank you very much for such an overwhelming response for “My first Love Story”. It was more surprising to me than anyone else that I came up with such an amusing memoir. As one of my colleagues’ mentioned in one of the comments, I used to struggle writing a simple, short and sensible mail to my client at my work place hence it is absolutely unbelievable that I could write some thing that prodigious and that too sensible. What was more surprising was the response given by you all. I heartily thank all those people who appreciated my work and also those who gave the effort of reading it till the very end. You all have restored the confidence back in me that I lost somewhere long back.

After my successful first attempt I have struggled a lot to get the right kind of a story. “My first Love Story”, was almost a perfect love story which just had about all the right ingredients like romance, passion, fantasy and all that, except for the main ingredient or shall I say the only ingredient required for a love story. Ahem.. Ahem… a “Gal Friend” or more specifically a gal, since my orientation is straight. (I thought better mention it since what has shown in “dostana” has become a “fashion” these days. I take immense pride in mentioning, I prefer tradition over fashion)

So now I have decided to narrate you one more spicy tale. It’s about my first gal friend. I felt it would be the most appropriate tale that you might like to be versed of, after knowing my first love story in which I didn’t get one. Are you getting curious about the gal who stole my heart for the very first time? Well, hold on tight for a moment, I’ll let it all out.

On some day during the end of October 2008.

Today I was sitting in darkness. The darkness was all around me. It was there at every corner of my room. Don’t look for any figurative meaning of the words I just said. I meant them literally. No power in my room. It happens all the time at my place, the “Electronic City” in Bangalore.

I was all alone in my room. I am not scared of the loneliness but I hate it. Some people enjoy solitude but I am definitely not one of those. Desolation slowly brings upon depression leading my thoughts to be more asinine.

The moron in me already took a good shape by then and my imagination was at the brink of crossing the limits of stupidity. I felt like a drunkard. People spend thousands of bucks to get drunk but I just need a dark room and some isolation, my head starts spinning.

Weird thoughts were coming to me. I said to my self,

“No Electricity in electronic city”

Who the hell has named it electronic city when they don’t have enough electricity to run it? It’s ironical but stupid. At least authorities should care for the sake of its name. Nobody’s there to understand my plight.

More such stupid things started occurring to me. To rescue myself of those noises inside my head I sealed my ears off with ear plugs and tuned into Bangalore FM.

It was again more depressing than pleasing. In all of the stations, either songs of Himesh in which he is screwing the tune with his nose wheezing “Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!” Or some bloody Indian number like “touch me, hold me, kiss me” was being played. Lyrics were irritating, so was the music. If it goes like this then very soon we might see a dumb doll more than half naked singing “screw me, screw me, and screw me.”

My thought processes took a sudden halt when I noticed some thing shaking inside my pants. It scared the hell out of me. I noticed a glow inside my pants. It’s my brand new mobile. I took a cool breathe realizing that. I hate it for this particular reason. All those mobiles that I used earlier ring first to tell you, I am there in your pants, and then they vibrate, but this one vibrates first like hell only to scare you, and then finally ring.

I took it out and saw the message,

“Low Battery”.

I pulled the ear plugs and threw it aside. Having nothing better to do, I prepared myself to get back to those weird thoughts.

Just then my mobile started ringing. It’s a call, an expected one rather, from my Mom.

Before I answer the call, I just tried to remember what I ate for dinner that day. My mom always asks me this everyday and eats up my mind, if I didn’t eat proper food any day. However I was being careful not to get bashed this day.

An Indian Mother worries so much about her son not eating food, that even If he weighs a ton eating all junk food she apprehends her son is getting malnourished, losing all weight as long as he stay away from home eating out side food.

I answered the call,

“Hello Ammi, I ate gobi ke parathe, palak da paneer and sarson ka saag, all healthy, no junk, and on time today”

My mom laughed,

“So you know I am gonna ask you that.”

I replied with pride,

“I am you son after all. Anyways you should stop worrying about me so much.”

“So you say you are a grown up.”

“Oh yes. I am a grown up now. No longer a mamma’s boy. Becoming responsible you see”

She replied sarcastically,

“Really? Sorry son, to treat you like a kid. So you are being a responsible grownup huh. Then I am guessing you must responsible enough to take care of some else now. Just answer this one child; we’ll fix you up with some body, since you are behaving like a man now.”

Gosh, I can’t argue with my mother, she knows all my weaknesses. Especially this one, I replied in an irritated tone,

“No mi, don’t arrange marriage me O.K. I’ll look for someone myself. ”

“Oh really, your dad might want to know this. He’ll be very happy to know that you want to get marrid all by yourself”

I know she is just kidding, but the slightest mention of my dad scares me a lot. He has been a very disciplinarian father. But I hate to think about marriage and most-of all imagining myself having an arranged marriage. Why don’t our parents become cool like parents in America and just leave us on this world giving enough freedom to fall in love with any gal we like, without any resentment.

My mom went on,

“Tell me what’s up with your food? Why are you eating all paranthas these days? You are a south Indian, remember? Not a Punjabi. You are not used to having paranthas for lunch and dinner. Try having some curd rice”

Mothers or doctors I don’t know. Also I am not sure, if I am a south Indian or north. It doesn’t matter. My village is in an industrial area and I grew up among people belonging to various regions in India, who migrated to our place to earn a livelihood. I am pretty much brought up in a mix of cultures. One advantage of it, you can enjoy all kinds of foods from “Sambar to Sarson ka Saag”. One more is, you understand different cultures well and easily gel along with people well, no matter where you go. Also for flirting with gals you tend have a wide spectrum of acceptance for chicks of various ethnicities.

Cutting my thoughts short, I replied to my mom,

“Nowadays, I love every thing about Punjabis, their food, their accent and especially Punjabi gals. Keep you fingers crossed, you might be getting a Punjabi bahu soon. That’s the secret behind paranthas as you may see now”

She replied, “Really, I am looking forward to it my son. When are you getting her home? Your dad and I’ll be very happy to give you both, our aashirwad.”

Aah!! She figures it out every time I lie.

One more thing about Indian mothers, they are” Human lie detectors”, work perfectly on their sons.

I still wanted to convince her of my fake Punjabi gal friend and replied,

“Ya sure, I will. Don’t complain afterwards about all those alu paranthas and paneer shaneer da tikkas that you are going to eat for your dinner, once I get you a Punjabi bahu".

“Haa. No problem. Anything for my son’s imaginary “Punjabi” wife. Well jokes apart, I called to tell you something about your gal friend”

“Gal friend??@$%$#%, gal friend what?”

“Don’t freak out, I am talking about “Puppy”.”

My mobile vibrated at my ear, echoing a final death cry and went off.

Since I can’t charge it until electricity restores in this bloody electronic city, I threw this electronic device away in some corner of my room in the darkness; I could not control my excitement when I heard this word “Puppy”.

Hold on your thoughts for a second; don’t dare imagine what puppy is. It’s not a little doggy. It’s a pet name.

No, you still dint get it. It’s not a pet’s name but a pet name of somebody, the sweetest gal I have ever known. All memories about her, flashed back in my mind and nostalgia started growing upon me. I closed my eyes and went back in time,

Flash Back….

I was sitting with Puppy in the back yard of our apartment, 

In a dark corner…

 Beneath the camouflage of trees in our garden…

 hiding from everyone…

 and doing what we enjoy most doing together……

“Potty”.

Did you just felt disgusted and uttered inside you,

“Excuse me, come again”.

Ya! You got it right, I said potty.

Shocked and feeling gross, please don’t be. I was about 5-6 yrs old, and she too was about the same. I am talking about my puppy love. Interestingly the gal on whom I had the”puppy love” is also “Puppy”.

(Don’t confuse yourself with the term Puppy love. if you don’t know what puppy love means, I’ll help you. It means child hood love)

You might think puppy is a weird name for a gal. Don’t ask me, why any one would name a gal “puppy”.

I don’t know. May be her parents found it cute, may be they didn’t know what it exactly meant, or may be they didn’t care of what others might think. But to me puppy is a cute name and so was the gal I knew by that name. So I don’t care of what you all might think of her name.

I too had a pet name then, not given by my parents though but by a neighbor from kerala. She named me moanu. She said it meant cute kid or son in malyalam. But I know for sure that she didn’t call me that for finding me incredibly cute, but because of my incredibly complicated name, “Zabiulla Mohammed Shah”.

The names starting with Z are so rare the people almost forget how to pronounce “Z”. Most telegus call me “Jabi”, and some go even to the extent of nicknaming me “Zebra”, the only other living thing that they thought starts with “Z”, to make things simple for them and to complicate my life. Cuh mon, Pronounce “Zebra” and “Zabi”, don’t they sound different to you.

Anyways Puppy and Moanu were one hell of a couple, at least everyone used to say so. Never part, rarely fight, very cute and always do potty together. When ever I think of her, only this memory comes to my mind first. I frankly don’t properly remember anything else we did together. Thanks to my mother, I can narrate you a few of those experiences, as she kept telling me all those stories about us, all along my life, although to tease me by calling her my first gal friend.

When I was a kid, we used to stay in a flat in an apartment along with a lot of other families. During those days there used to be a special bonding among neighbors of a place. Don’t see such a thing nowadays. Now I hardly recognize my present neighbor and may fail to recognize him if meet him on a way. This scenario is may be because of the busy lifestyles we are leading now or may be because of the Idiot box that we are glued to most of the time, inspecting stupid human relations of a stupid serial, on the small screen, rather than improving our own with other people as close as our neighbors.

As in Indian code of conduct we used to call all neighbors either uncles or aunties. Everyday uncles go to office and all aunties in the apartment gather at a place under huge Badam tree in the lawn of our apartment, doing tittle-tattle like the best of kinfolk with kids all around them, playing perky games like “Chor police”, and “Current shock”.

Every evening was a celebration during those days. I don’t see such kind of a jubilant atmosphere, even during present day’s weddings.

There, Puppy and I always used to play together. We were very much an item. She was the youngest of the four siblings and I was the eldest of two, but we both were cutest of all, and were celebrities of the neighbor hood. All eyes were on us most of the time, enjoying the cutest things we do.

I would like to share some of those sweet incidents happened back then,

Once we did go to the back yard as in our routine and were coming back. Suddenly she spotted a pig coming to the back yard, smelling.

Since this is India I am sure you’ll not be surprised knowing the fact that a pig can enter some one’s backyard. It then finished what we had left. Looking this I started crying. Soon she too picked up. Our boohoo echoed the entire neighbor hood.

All Neighbors came out of their houses, foreboding a menace. Some uncle rushed at us to enquire as to what happened. The moment that happened afterwards was one of those priceless instances that one never forgets for the rest of ones life.

Looking at him innocently I cried, “The pig ate my poo-poo”.

Confused, he asked an auntie, “What’s poo-poo?”

The instant he was told what it was, he burst out laughing. Surprised, all neighbors came out. He sent them to us to let them listen to the knee slapper.

We both shouted crying loudly,

“Pig ate our poo-poo. We want it back”.

I don’t know if was being stupid or innocent standing there actually crying for shit, literally of course.

One of them told

“Do not worry; you’ll get it again tomorrow.”

Everyone then burst out laughing at us.

They all laughed, and laughed and we cried and cried, even more irritated by their laughter. My mom said it took at least 2 hours to calm us down that too after bribing us with two Cadburys 5stars.

Whenever my friends visit my home my mom takes pleasure in teasing me for this by narrating this tale to all my friends, especially gals, if there are any. She told me sometimes that she always wondered why we used to go to backyard, when we had cleaner toilets in our apartments.

How the hell am I supposed to know, I was barely 5 yrs older then. May be I preferred performing nature’s call in natural environment.

There was one more incident which my mom told me many a time. I too imperceptibly remember it.

One day we both were doing our home work, sitting under the badam tree in our lawn. I was doing it in my regular bindass style, which I guess is in my genes. I had one notebook under my bum, two of them under my legs, and finally one in my hand, scribing home work from puppy’s note book, opened between my legs. I guess copy pasting was in my genes too.

Seeing this, puppy’s elder sister got irritated. Like a few people we see around, she believed that books have some great power inside, and if they are disrespected like the way I did, the fruit of knowledge will forever be forbidden.

She came to me and shouted angrily,

“Do not touch the books with your legs; otherwise you will not learn anything”

My gal friend then, puppy got angry at her sister for shouting at me. I was her best friend after all.

She stood up to my rescue and shouted,

“Who told you this? It is all wrong”

Her Sister replied in a warning tone, “No it’s true. Ask Mummy, She told me so”

“No its not”

“How do you know?”

She suddenly stepped on one of the books and started shouting loudly

“A for Apple”

“B for Boy”

“C for cat”…….bla bla bla.

Finally after finishing almost everything she learned in U.K.G, she screamed back at her sister,

“See, I remember every thing that I learned in my class even after stepping on a book, so I say it’s not true”

Every one sitting in the lawn were awestruck at that moment seeing the common sense a 5 yr old gal had. It was surely a flabbergasting moment.

It is quite amazing to notice the irony embraced in this world. When a 5yr old gal can have such wonderful acumen to valuate such a doltish logic, then why this all full-grown adults of extremists, fundamentalists and terrorists, all around us, lose their innate consciousness to clearly understand the half-baked archaic ideologies they follow, blindly. There is some thing for them to learn from this.

My mother had reminded me this incident for about hundreds of times appreciating her agility.

We also did crazy things in school. One such incident I can’t wait to share,

Once I took a Vicks bottle to school for no apparent reason. When I showed it to her, she took some of it on her fingers and accidentally rubbed it on her eyes to notice that it burns.

She got a crazy idea. We both secretly started applying Vicks on others classmates’ fingers and asked each of them to rub his fingers on his eyes. Within a few minutes the whole class of U.K.G started crying.

Owing to our mischievous past in the class, teacher took little time in finding out, who the actual miscreants were. She had beaten the hell out of us for this and our parents were called. I think this one I clearly remember because of the beating we got.

There were many such naughty things we did together. I have photo album in which has many naughty photos of us. Every time I go home, I watch it. I guess it was one reason, which kept her memories from fading away.

After spending almost 3 years together having fun, Finally the day had come when we had to part. Our friendship had to stop. Her father got transferred and their family had to move to other place, very far away. I clearly remember that day. I think I cried secretly after they left.

Ironically, after that I have never been good friends with any other gal all my child-hood. I joined some crazy bunch of bullies in our school and spent most of the time teasing gals until I became a teenager. And again as an instance of irony, during my teen age, I became totally shy of gals.

Flashback 2..

I was about 15 yrs then. I went along with my parents to their place for some work. I know their family got transferred to the same town but was not sure if they are still there. On our way back, her father accidentally spotted us. He then took us all to their home.

I was surprised at this unexpected event. I was agog at getting this chance to meet her again. On the way to her home, I started dreaming of what possible things I could talk to her. I personally remember nothing else except sitting with her in the backyard. I also knew she’d also have the same memories and it would be so gross to remind her that.

Finally I decided that I would not talk any thing about our crazy childhood days but discuss something nerdy like our studies. Believe me, if you are going to any gal’s house as a teenager and you want to be in good books of their family, right thing to talk about is regarding studies and career. If you try to act cool before the gal and do some thing stupid, you’ll end-up being a jerk in everyone’s view.

So better be a nerd than being a jerk I say.

We reached their home. I saw two very fair gals filling water in a small pit before their house. Her father shouted,

“Look who has come. Moanu’s family.”

For a moment the gals took a glance at us and one of the gal dropped down almost to the base of the pit. I tried to look over but she was hiding deep inside. The other gal screamed,

“Ohh, my god. Is that Moanu? how are you? This is your akka(sister). Remember me?”

For a moment I wondered who moanu was. Because nobody called me that since I was 6 yrs old. Then I remembered it was my childhood pet name. I wondered if they really knew my actual name. I don’t thin they do because no one in our family knows what their daughter’s real name is so how can they remember a complicated name like “Zabiulla Mahammad Shah” for so long.

She came towards me and started pulling my cheek as if I am still the same 5 yr old moanu.

Her sister looked pretty much the same as she used to look like when she was a kid 10 yrs ago. I wanted to take a look at other gal’s face but couldn’t, as she was almost lay buried deep inside the pit holding her hands to her face. I wanted to ask if the other gal hiding inside the pit was puppy, but I didn’t dare.

I can understand what she must be going through. It was as embarrassing to me as it was to her. So I have decided to shut my mouth until she feels comfortable again, to come forward and meet me.

We went in their house. Our moms’ started screaming, the instant they saw each other. They both started praising each other’s beauty for staying so young even after 10 yrs. I felt how women can lie so beautifully. They started typical women gossip, discussing all household events happened since then. Our fathers also started discussing about all things happened since then and slowly got into discussing politics and current events.

I sat there getting bored waiting for puppy to show up. Meanwhile her elder sister came to me and started asking about my studies, career and gal friends. I gave all the answers as I have come prepared. Finally I mustered courage to ask about puppy. She told that, puppy was feeling too shy to meet us and was hiding inside her room.

She said she’ll get their family album and that way I could at least see, what she looks like now. I thought I would have to suffice my excitement to meet her, just by looking at her image. She got two huge albums from a rack. She gave one to me, and the other one to my mother.

When I opened it, I saw all her childhood pics of which most of them were in our album too. I got disappointed. My mother looked into the other album and screamed in amazement. She said puppy looks very gorgeous for a teenager. She asked where puppy is, and went into her room to see her.

I just wanted to look into other album but I found it nowhere. My mother took it along with her to puppy’s room. I cursed her at that moment. Can’t see think of her poor son desperately wanting to see his childhood best friend.

I spent two more hours at their home speaking to everyone except puppy, I got bored. We decided to leave. My mother came out but puppy still remained inside. I thought she was shyer than me. But she has got a reason to be, she is a gal after all.

We finally left their place with me feeling a little disappointed. On our way back, I realized something. I did not ask her real name. Neither my mom nor my dad cared to ask what her real name was. We took their phone number but I thought it would be weird calling and asking them just her name.

I didn’t even see her face then and I may not ever, so what’s the point in knowing her real name. Let her remain the same old cute “puppy” to me rather than this beautiful, shy, all grown-up somebody who is embarrassed to meet her moanu.

That was the last time I thought seriously about her until that evening when my mother called during that powerless night.

Back into that fateful dark night.

My room is still dark due to the lack of electricity. I started wondering why my mother has mentioned her in the call. My mind tried to come up with all sort of explanations. First I started thinking logically of various likely possibilities for my Mom mentioning her name in the call. They were not very interesting.

I thought may be their family is coming to meet us at our hometown and my mom wanted me at home to meet them. But I am staying so far away from my hometown and my mom knows I won’t be able to make it home at least for next one month because of my project work at office and also because of my CAT preparation on weekends.

I wondered if I can still go out and give a call to my mother from a booth to know the exact reason of mentioning her. It was kind of late already so I resumed that thought.

Finally blocking the endless stream of thought bugging me, I cleaned my bed out of all mess and fell on it, still in darkness. I planned to call my mother, as first thing tomorrow, as soon as I charge my mobile.

I fell asleep after that.

Next day..

I woke-up. My head felt all heavy and eyes all dizzy. I realized I have to bear the aftermath for sleeping at odd hours for the rest of that day. It was almost like some hangover effect generally caused by alcohol consumption.

The first thought came to me was puppy’s. I kept my mobile for charging with the charging socket at other end of my bed.

The second though came to my mind that I was still lying on the bed at 11 am in the morning with my office already started at 9am. I cursed my mobile for not ringing the alarm I set, because of its low battery and rushed to bathroom to get ready.

No more thought came after that and I switched myself onto my super fast express mode. I brushed, got fresh and bathed simultaneously (don’t ask me how. I have done it many a time) and came out in fifteen minutes. I took the mobile and saw that it had enough charge to last for at least 5 minutes.

On my way running to the office I called my mom.

She answered,

“Hello”

“Hi Ammi”

Mom replied,

“What happened yesterday? Your call got disconnected, I wasn’t able to call you after that”

“I’ll tell you later. But tell me this first, what is that, about puppy you wanted to tell me yesterday?”

She smiled and replied,

“Don’t get excited son, everyone is fine, their family has come yesterday to meet us and invite us for their child’s marriage”

She has two elder sisters and one brother; I wondered which of them it could be. I guessed, it could be any one of them but not puppy as she is the youngest. I still asked her

“Who is getting married?”

My mom replied smiling,

“Your gal friend”.

My mind went numb for a moment at this unexpected news. The most logical feeling I expected to come out then was sadness. I actually used to get a little disappointed at the news of any beautiful gal getting married even though I had no crush on her. This I guess is a typical guy phenomenon.  I prepared myself to get depressed. But for some reason I couldn’t.

My facial muscles grew apart and I started smiling. I couldn’t under stand this but I was actually feeling happy for her and felt relieved.

I felt happy at the news of my First Gal Friend’s marriage.

Then I understood that my feelings for puppy were above to those that I had for any other gal in my life. I guess it was because they formed between us when we were still innocent at our hearts with no selfish goals.

I replied to my Mom,

“Oh… really, tas gr8, So when is the marriage?”

“November 16, guess that’s a Sunday, would you be able to make it?”

“Sure I can. No need to apply a leave on Sunday and my boss would be happy, so I think I can manage.”

Just then I remembered something important scheduled for me during November.

“Hey wait what’s the date again”

“November 16”

I cursed my fate; it was the D day. The CAT exam, which I was preparing for all year, was scheduled on that day. I couldn’t go anywhere out of bangalore.

With a sad tone I replied,

“Sorry ammi, I can’t make it. CAT exam, you know.”

To console me she replied,

“Oh.. no. don’t worry, it’s O.K. We can meet her some other time after marraige. Her Groom stays in Hyderabad, We’ll go visit them once after marriage, or better you get that Punjabi gal you were talking about last night. We’ll get you married and invite puppy to your marriage. What say?”

Frustrated with her teasing I replied,

“Stop it mom. Btw you still call her puppy. She is all grown up and might feel embarrassed if you call her puppy on her wedding day. So what’s her real name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you kidding me? They all came to our house and you did not bother to know her real name is.”

“We called her puppy and none of them bothered, so why should I care as long as they don’t have a problem. Any ways they gave us a wedding card. Let me check it.”

She took some time in finding the card. I shouted,

“Quick my mobile battery is running out.”

“Here I got it, its ********.”

(hey hey, I can’t tell you that. Need to respect her privacy. But it’s a sweet name.)

“Ohh, really you never knew that?”

“Nope”

“Ok, gtg to office. Well you people have fun at her wedding. Give her a message. Let her know that your son loves her very much”.

“Oh really!! Sure my son I’ll do that”

“Take care mom, bye”

Oh my god, is it a coincidence? It’s such a common telugu name. I never expected her name to be that. I know a zillion gals by that name. In fact some of them were very close to me too. One of the gals I used to tease when I was a kid had the same name. A gal, on whom I had crush on, during my teenage years, had the same name too. One of my close friends in my office too have the same name. And now my first gal friend also has the same name. It’s just a coincidence isn’t it? Hard to believe.

I entered the office preparing myself to listen to my boss’s regular one more last warnings. The moment I entered my eyes searched for him everywhere but could not find him. One of my colleagues shouted

“Welcome to the office sir, it is your office. You can come and go whenever you want.”

I replied in embarrassment,

“Where is Boss?”

“Don’t worry, he is on leave today”

A sign of relief came on my face. I sat at my desk.

That day felt good. I was little sad that I couldn’t make it to her wedding, and felt I might never see her again. But it’s O.K. Let her be that cute puppy of my puppy love. Let my feelings for her remain compassionate rather than turn selfish. I wish she could read this story about her, and most importantly I want her to be apprised of my feelings for her. I wondered if I could ever know, if she ever had the same kind of feelings for me or at least ever thought of me in any other way.

After wards..

I gave the cat exam this morning, I screwed it for good. I battled for three hours in examination hall. I just got in and sat at my favorite restaurant “Hyderbad House” to have some biriyani to reward myself for fighting the .

My Phone rang and it’s my mom. I prepared to answer to “How did CAT go stuff”.

“Hello Ammi,”

“Hi Son. Why were you not answering my call this morning? Where were you?”

I felt shocked. How come my mom forgot that I had to give CAT exam that day? I got little angry and before I could say anything, she continued talking,

“We went to puppy’s marriage and she wanted to talk to you. I called but your mobile was switched off all this morning, is everything O.K?”

I felt its better not to talk about the CAT as it will further spoil my mood. I realized, I totally forgot Puppy’s wedding. Anyways, it brought some smile to my dull face. I got excited to know more about it. I replied to her,

“Yes mom, everything is fine. Just forgot to charge the mobile, So tell me how was her marriage?”

“It was gr8. The Groom was pretty handsome and they both looked like, made for each other. Puppy kept asking about you and wanted to know why you didn’t make it. We tried to call but your mobile was switched off”

I felt a little relieved to know that she at least cared to ask about me, I wanted to know if I still had the chance of at least talking to her. I asked my MOM,

“You still at her marriage?”

“No son we left already. She took off to the groom’s place”

“Was everything fine?."

"Yes dear."

"Chalo let me eat some biryani now, I'll catch up with you later.”

Beep beep. Call disconnected

Ohh boy, I felt, I missed this chance of talking to her. But I was happy knowing that she wanted to talk to me at least.

She remembers me.

 We have some unforgettable memories of course. But the thing that is making me feel good is, she cared to ask for me at the most important occasion of her life. For all that I had for her, now I know she at least had something.

I am looking forward to meet her at least once in my life time and hoping to change my perception of her personality, which did not happen till now. This time I missed that chance already. I hope this story reaches her some how and would like to know what she thinks of it.

I know my feelings for her are not very intricate and deep but are very natural and immaculate to value them all my life. This tale of mine is dedicated to her. It’s just a way to remember our teeny relationship for the rest of my life.

I’ll never forget her and always remember her as my "First Gal Friend".

I wish her a very happy married life from the bottom of my heart. ..