A Love Story

[SoftSword]

It was a lovely December morning in the hottest city in the world. All right, so that was a little unfair. Chennai is not the hottest city in the world. But it certainly is the city with the most uncomfortable weather among the cities that I have lived in. And I've been around. But I digress.

I was in the company bus on my way to work, as usual trying to catch up with my sleep. On this particular day, a girl got on the bus, came to my seat and sat down. "Good Morning," she said. I looked back at her through half closed eyes, replied "Good Night," and then proceeded to return to my half hour nap before the bus
reached the office. Unfortunately, I was woken up by a punch in the arm.

"Wake up, bozo!" She was looking at me with a big smile on her face. "I'm not sitting next to you to listen to you snore."

Half-heartedly, I opened my eyes and turned to her. "What's up?" I asked.

Preeti Mehra was tall, good-looking and slightly tomboyish.

She was also my best buddy. "Come on," she said. "Don't look so disappointed.
You'd rather sleep than talk to me?"

"I talk to you everyday, Preeti."

"You also sleep everyday."

"It's not enough."

"So you've had enough of talking to me, eh?"

You can't argue with a statement like that, so I had to give up. I grinned and said, "OK, sweetheart.

What's on your mind?"

"I wanted to tell you what happened yesterday. Can you guess?"

"Anurag called you last night."

"How did you know?" She was stunned.

"Oh, he asked me for your number yesterday."

"And you gave it to him?"

"What else could I do? And stop complaining. You've been drooling over him for weeks now.

He must have thought he had a chance."

Preeti was the kind of girl who would openly ogle at every other guy she saw. And yet, she would not respond to any advances of a romantic nature.

She'd happily join a group of boys to go to a cricket match, but if asked out to a movie, dinner, or even coffee, she'd never say yes.

She defined 'Hard-To-Get'.

"You like putting me in these situations, don't you?" she said.

"No. That's not true. I love putting you in these situations!"

That invited another punch in the arm.

I had known Preeti for a year. We'd tell each other about our joys and our sorrows, our victories and our defeats. I'd tell her about all my crushes and she'd scold me for being silly. She'd drag me to classical music concerts and I'd add them to the list of things she 'owed me' for. And though I never let it show, I must say that
she punched pretty hard.

to be continued...

[Shakthiprabha.]

apram?

[SoftSword]

It was 12:00 am and my phone was ringing. "Hello," I said, as I picked it up.

"Happy Birthday!" It was she.

"You're supposed to throw me a surprise party, sweetheart. Not just call to say Happy Birthday."

"Well then open your door, dumbo!"

So I did and found her, cell-phone in hand, at my doorstep -- with what seemed like half the population of my company. My roommates were supposed to be working late that night. Now I knew why.

I blew a lot of candles (seemed like much more than 25), cut my cake, got kicked in the behind, and got painted with the cake's icing. If Preeti had had her way, she'd probably have preferred to use a paintbrush and a can of paint. But I bribed her with a copy of the book "Lord of the Rings". She'd borrowed it from me three times already. I thought it was about time I gave her a copy for herself.

We chatted for an hour after everyone had gone. "I think it's time I left," she said finally, trying to stifle a yawn. I nodded. I dropped her home in my roommate's car. As she was getting out of the car, I stopped her.

"Hey, Preeti."

"What?"

"Thanks."

"Hey, don't get senti on me now!" she smiled. "Are you trying to worm out of that gift you promised me?"

"You know, it's interesting how I'm getting you a gift on my birthday."

"That's just because you're stupid," she grinned. "And you better get me that book, or I won't return your copy."

"Hey, that copy was a gift to me from my dear friend Preeti Mehra. I can't let you keep that."

She wasn't falling for that. "Your dear friend? And what about me? Am

I

not dear to you?"

"Very smart. That won't work with me. I'm not one of your Love Crazy suitors. Why do you need the book nyway? You've read it umpteen times already."

"That is besides the point. You are getting me the book. We both know that."

She smiled that wide confident smile of hers. "Good night." And she got out of the car.

I sat there for some time, just thinking. Our conversations were always like this - a little joking, a little teasing and a lot of demanding. But somehow, I felt that something had changed since the moment she had turned up at my door that night. I was still in my reverie when a paper ball landed on the windshield. I craned my neck out of the window and looked up. She was standing in her balcony.

"What are you still doing there?" she whispered loudly.

"Waiting for you to start a paper-ball fight," I whispered back.

"We can do that tomorrow. Go home now. It's way past your bedtime!"

"Ok, mommy," I grinned back. "I'm going home now!"


to be Continued...

[Shakthiprabha.]

then

[Arthi]

ss enga suttadhu?

[madhu]

ss enga suttadhu?

avar manasula

[Arthi]

ss enga suttadhu?

avar manasula

padichu paarthutu edhuku comment sOllarEn.... vEtula vElai eruku...
aapis pOnadhaan nimmadhiya padikkalaam :P

[Arthi]

SS: who is the hero??? wat is his name

[SoftSword]

I'm an extravagant gift-giver, and it is definitely going to be my downfall some day. I made her wait for it, but finally bought her the book. That, and half-a-dozen other omnibus collections of various authors, including a copy each of `The Complete Works of Shakespeare' and `The Complete Short Stories of Charles Dickens'. All I got for it was an "I told you so."

I started spending a lot of time at her place after that. Mostly because I wanted to read all those books, and she wouldn't lend them to me.

"I'm not as stupid as you, ape-man. I'm not falling into the same trap I laid for you. Plus, you dog-ear your books. You're not doing that to these masterpieces. So if you want to read them, you read them here. And if you want to mark your place, use a bookmark."

So that's what I did. She'd even make me wash my hands before I touched the books. It was as if they were sacred.

"Need I remind you that it was me that bought you the books in the first place? For my birthday!"

"So? They're mine now."

"Well, then. I've been meaning to ask you this for a long time. Where exactly is my birthday gift?"

"It was in your tummy at one point of time. It's probably been washed into the sea by now."

"Huh?"

"Remember the cake I baked you on your birthday?"

"You what? You can't bake cakes!" That was a mistake. She looked hurt. "You baked me a cake?" She didn't say a word. She just shrugged.

I was stunned. "But you never told me."

"You didn't ask." That was typical of her.

"It was fantastic! And you wasted most of the icing on me!"

"The cake was for you, dumbo."

"How long did it take you to make the whole thing?" It had been a two-layered vanilla-chocolate cake with three flavors of very creamy icing. She had done all that!

"Well, the chocolate cake took an hour and fifteen minutes, and so did the vanilla. Then cutting them up and putting them together took another 15 minutes. Each flavor of icing took 20 minutes for preparation, and
then putting it on the cake took another half hour. Cleaning up the mess took an hour."

She seldom claimed the credit for anything, but once she started bragging, there was no stopping her. However, I wasn't thinking about that right then.

"You spent over five hours on that cake?"

"A little over four hours preparing it, and an hour cleaning up. Yes."

I was speechless. I didn't know how to react. She hated cooking.

"I forgot to mention," she continued, "the hours I spent the week before that, practicing. Even the birds wouldn't touch the first three cakes!"

I couldn't help but ask. "Why?"

"Because the first one got burnt, the second one was only half cooked, and in the third one, I forgot to add sugar."

It was just like her, to try to divert the conversation. "I mean why did you spend so much time on baking me a cake?"

She looked at me like I'd asked her why the sun rises in the east. "For your birthday, stupid. Of course, I also wanted to beat every gift you've ever got me. Try beating this one." She was grinning like she'd won the world championship.

As far as I was concerned, she had. I'd never spent a week making her anything. I'd never even spent an hour making her anything. Getting her a gift normally involved me taking her to the store, letting her choose and use my credit card. Suddenly, I felt cheap. "Thanks," was the only thing I could say. "Thanks a lot."

"Hey. Are you getting senti on me again?"

I was.



To be continued ......

[Arthi]

emm ezhudhunga vEgamaa