A (not so) handsome face

The face in front of me did not reflect a person who is happy, healthy and well. The area around the right eye was unnaturally swollen and looked terrible. To be honest, that face was never really handsome, in fact even calling it good looking would be a bit of an over statement. It had not only suffered a physical distortion but also had lost the curly hair. What Urvakhsha’s (UK) face was really missing though, was a permanently resident expression of mischief which gave his face the light and the life. It was tired. It showed his longing for someone to tell him that everything was going to be fine. He was looking much happier to be back amongst the friends but he wasn’t the UK I knew. He was going back home to continue his treatment. That was the last time I saw one of my best friends.

* * *

I don’t remember when I met UK for the first time. I never remember such things. But I do remember that my first impression of him was that he was a freak. I mean, what will you think about a person who has put a thin cylindrical piece of wood resembling cigarette in his mouth and is trying to light its free end and pretend to be smoking? Right, a freak! And that’s partly what he was really. In my first year I used to maintain my distance from him for his slightly eccentric ways which I must admit, considering that he was a bawa, seemed very normal later on. He was especially adept at teaming up with kaykhusru Lawyer (felt weird writing this, so guys it’s keku from here on in) and thinking of some very weird ways to torment one Mr. Zareer Karanjawala. I say weird because they included stealing his slippers and planting them in someone else’s room, setting his alarm clock to go at any other inconvenient time but the one set by him etc. etc.

He considered it his misfortune that his roll number (59) was right before me (60). I don’t know where he got the weird notion – that I am very good at oral exams – in his mind. He always used to curse me even if I gave only 2 answers (out of 10) correct (perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he mostly managed 1 or none). We have had some extremely interesting experiences in the internal oral exams. There was one particular incidence for which he always used to blame me. It was the oral of C programming in our 1st year. We had learnt absolutely nothing through the semester (and we had also guessed that our teacher didn’t know much either). And before the exam some knowledgeable(?) people were saying heavy words like arrays and functions (imagine our lack of preparation, we found array a heavy word). And out came the batch before us.

“Agle 3 log andar jao be”

“Abe, kya kya puchh rahi hai?”

“Kuchh nahi na be, bahot panchat puchh rahi hai. Bahot easy hai, tension mat lo” – Nikhil (who else?).

So, in we went – Roll nos. 59, 60, 61 – as confident as a mouse that has set out on a mission of tying a bell around a cat’s neck.

“Sit down” – said the teacher with feeble ‘thank you’ from us in response. “So what do you know about C?” – She asked.

Vishal burst out, “Madam, I don’t know anything about C. I have studied BASIC in the school. I can tell you only about BASIC.”

We were horrified! Where did this b@#%^#$ study BASIC? And we didn’t even know that much, how were we supposed go through this oral!! We were very tensed out by this (yes, like everybody else, we felt tense about orals in our 1st year).

“OK. What about you two? Can I ask you about C?” again, very feeble sound closely resembling ‘yes’ came from our mouth.

“Good”. Then she asked Vishal something related to BASIC. “You write down a program for adding 2 integers” – to UK. He actually took the pen and paper quite assuredly. “And you tell me what a variable is?”

I felt some sense returning to me. I answered confidently. By that time Vishal had finished his task. She looked at the paper uncomprehendingly. Now UK was also finished with his program. She took the paper but without examining it, she gave the paper to me.

“Study this and tell me whether there are any mistakes” – UK looked confident. I think he had guessed just what I had guessed, she didn’t know whether there were any mistakes in the program. Anyway, I took the paper and saw the program. UK’s handwriting was wretched to say the least. I found it hard to understand. But there was a glaring mistake in every statement he had written which did not require me to understand his writing. He had not ended every statement of his with a semicolon. And before I could control myself I said “There are at least 5 mistakes in this program”.

No sooner did I say it than I wanted to bite my tongue off. UK looked at me disbelievingly. If I had not mentioned it the teacher would not have guessed it at all. Because, today I can tell that even after adding semicolons, there must have been at least 10 more mistakes (in only those 5 statements). But after I had added the semicolons (I had to, as I had shot my mouth off), the teacher looked at it and said to UK – “Now, this is a correct program” adding insult to injury.

No wonder, since then he has detested giving orals with me.

We came a lot closer in our 2nd year. Mostly due to Rotaract (club of Sangli) and the fact that we lived in the same lobby. It was in the 2nd year that we sort of started to hang out together. We had a lot of fun that year. Mostly at the expense of his next room neighbor (the room towards the lavatory) whom I will not name here. I was a pretty regular visitor to his room (after all the room had a TV). But it was really the 3rd year where our friendship took off.

We had started to form some sort of a bond between us. There were many occasions where the two of us would just sit down and let it all out. We would talk on the club, our own friend circles and how to tease some of the others in the college. It is a different thing that mostly it was wishful thinking and we never implemented it but it was fun all right. And then there were those occasions at Vishrambag railway station. We used to just pick up a bottle or two of beer or some other liquor, a bottle (for me) of soft drink and some packets of chips and savor it all on the deserted railway station. There we would be with Vishal, Tejas – my room partner – and anyone else who wanted to come (it was mostly Sandy Kulkarni). And then we would just sit down and talk about anything and everything. With Sandy, politics was never far and when he wasn’t there we would talk on what is going to happen to the club (Rotaract), how the rest of the guys are stupid idiots and most importantly how to go about getting girls!! A point to be mentioned here, UK had a girl friend in 1st year. She dumped him (actually it should be “left” him, but writing “dumped” feels so much more satiating for a ‘lukkha’ like me) because he was doing engineering from a college in a ‘khedegaon’. It was pressure from her parents basically. Anyway, we used to enjoy these nights like hell. And the best part was yelling at the passing trains and then laughing like children after the train had gone. Boy, those were the best days of my life! And then – to top it all – came MUNA (Model United Nations Assembly).

MUNA is an event held by Rotaract every alternate year. As its full name suggests it is a miniature version of the actual United Nations Assembly. Here, a team of 2 represents some country in the real world. There are many teams depending upon the scope of the event conducted. And these teams discuss and argue (actually, try to beat the shit out of other teams) upon some of the real world issues called resolutions and then after the argument the resolutions are voted upon just like in a real United Nations Assembly.

MUNA was special not only for what happened on the 2 days when it was held but also for the days that went into its preparation. UK and I had decided to form a team. And CVJ Shastry – the then president – decided that we will represent Israel. It was a big thing as one of the two resolutions to be debated upon was directly related to Israel. A lot of preparation and research has to be done to provide effective arguments (again, actually to beat the shit out of other teams). But UK was an engineer to his very bones. And an unwritten law for engineers says “thou shall not study till thou can avoid it”. And he could avoid preparation for now. So he did. His laziness was infectious and awe inspiring. It demanded following. And so I followed. We both did nothing till there were only a couple of weeks left for the event. This was the time when his health started declining.

For those 2 weeks we prepared hard. We went to net cafes, searched and printed out the material, poured over it and prepared drafts of the speeches we were going to make. We received some very useful help from US of A team. And we were prepared or rather we hoped we were prepared. On the first day of the event we got ready and went to the venue. It was very small (only about 20-22 teams, I don’t remember the exact number), but the way it was set was very intimidating. It was a rectangular hall with a dais along one of the smaller sides of the hall. The Chairman would sit there. And also the participant (henceforth called ‘Delegate’) delivering speech would deliver it from there. Some 12-15 feet from the dais long wooden steps were built. And on these steps were the sitting places (tables) for the teams in an alphabetical order, starting with Afghanistan. On the tables were flags of the countries that the teams represented. I went and stood on the dais. I imagined all the teams sitting there and me delivering my speech. I finished the speech and looked up; everybody was literally jumping in their seats with raised hands trying to nail me then and there with their questions. My guts rolled over in my stomach. I stopped imagining. UK looked at me with a smile and said “Chal, breakfast karte hai”. I was only too glad to oblige him.

The event started with a Group Discussion amongst the teams. Some details about who would be the first and last to speak on each resolution were finalized. Michael David Sir, who was to chair the event, gave us an introduction of MUNA. And we started. The first to come was the delegate of Iran. He came, delivered his speech, waited a couple of seconds to see if there were any questions and upon finding that there were none went to his seat. We blinked. We looked at each other, panic stricken. We had not understood even a word of what was said in the speech. We were supposed to screw him like anything. But how can you do that when you don’t even know what he has said? It went downhill from then till lunch. And then the president came to us.

“What are you two doing? Israel should be aggressive; you should be asking more questions guys.”

We assured him that we will do so and decided to ask any possible thing to every team. With this strategy the rest of the day was better. And then came UK’s chance to speak. I knew he was ill. He had not prepared much in the last few days. He was also feeling a bit weak. I was worried. But I really need not have bothered. Because the performance that he gave was nothing less than sterling. His poise, his body language, his superb imitation of Israeli (superior and confidant) demeanor and attitude, his quick wittedness in answering questions and his every pronunciation was outstanding. His overall performance was a bright spark in an otherwise dull first day.

The second day was much more interesting with lots of heated debates and smart lines. Even my speech went without many hiccups. MUNA ended there. All that was remaining was to announce winners. We were pretty satisfied with our performance. The Prize Distribution was a tense affair. But, we managed to win everything there was to win. UK also won a very much deserved special performance award from the judges. After the Prize Distribution, we just sat there thinking about what had happened. We looked at each other and something connected. We both barely had time for a smile and a nod before others came swarming towards us to hug and to congratulate. That was something truly amazing and fantastic. A few days later, he went home to rest and get some treatment. He was to be back in a week’s time.

But it took a long time. All I heard was that he needed some more treatment.

It was nearing the end of the year. It was time to decide club’s new board. And so I and Nikhil were in Shastry’s room mulling over these things when Shastry asked Nikhil,”How is UK?”

Nikhil looked skeptically at me, seemed to decide something and said, “Doctors say he may need Chemotherapy.”

I was stunned. Did he say Chemotherapy? It cannot be! Surely UK would have told me, if it was that serious. But Shastry was not surprised to hear this. Anger was rising in my head. So, the whole world knew and he wouldn’t tell me! And even these people did not think it fit to tell me! But, he just had some minor problem, didn’t he?

“He will be coming for his exams only. Doesn’t want to lose out on a year.” – Nikhil.

This was assuring. This meant things were not out of hand and could be brought under control. I didn’t say anything. Some more things were discussed and we went to our rooms. I just sat in my room, not noticing anything. I tried to sleep but it wouldn’t come. It seemed just yesterday when we smiled at each other and I had thought we understood each other perfectly at that moment; just the way best friends often do. And now he didn’t even care about telling me what he was going through. Bitter resentment was beginning to well up within me. And I put him determinedly out of my head.

He came for his exams. He was not looking good. He was not his usual mischievous self. He smiled occasionally. Seemed happy to be with us. He tried his best to study and pass. He was going back on the day the exams were over. We took him to Snow Den (a local café). We had a lot of fun and that seemed to cheer him up. While coming back I got a private moment with him. And as I was feeling very bitter, the first thing I said was, “Tu at least muze to bata sakta tha!!”

He didn’t look surprised or taken aback. In fact he looked as if he knew this was going to come up.

“Maine sirf isliye nahi bola kyuki muze nahi pata tha tu kaise handle karega.”

I felt ashamed. I could not look at him. It was an uncomfortable moment of silence. And instead of me comforting him, he clapped on my shoulder and said, “Tension mat le be. Doctor bola hai sab thik ho jayega.” And he smiled at me. I merely nodded.

I saw him again when he came to give exams once more. He looked a lot worse and less assured. He also looked very tired. The treatment was taking a heavy toll on him. He said, “Agle sal tum nahi rahoge to bahot bore hoga mereko.”

But the next year never came. Only Shahrukh came with the news that UK was no more. One of my dearest and best friends was no more. I felt down and out. A person without whose memories my life will never be complete had deserted me. My companion in Rotaract had left me all alone. I had known that life without him will not quite be same again. I had forgotten the number of times in my 4th year I had said to myself – if only UK was here. I could have talked to him and we both could have let out our frustration by sitting together and laughing it out. We could again have gone to the Vishrambag railway station and yelled at passing trains. And perhaps participated together in another MUNA representing Bhutan. We could have given orals together and I wouldn’t mind how much he cursed me for telling teachers that he was wrong. We could have acted on the numerous plans we hatched of teasing and harassing people. We could have been in the same company, working together. He would tell me about his new girlfriend and how he was better off being single. If only UK was here – we could have done so many things.

Trip to Mumbai was a blur. We met his parents, his brother, his grandmother and his aunt. His aunt told us how very bravely he fought. Not giving up despite all the pain. I believed her. I knew he had a very strong will power. We came back to Sangli. I was and still am determined to remember him for what he was before that dreadful disease took him away from me. A freak. A smiling, mischievous, lazy, irritating freak.

When we went to Mumbai, I couldn’t even see his face for the last time. But then to be honest, that face was never really handsome, was it?

- In loving memory of my dear friend Urvakhsha Kathawalla, without whom my team will never be complete.

You are to me...

I am not much of a poet, but i have tried to put my feelings in a poem here. This is a dedication to all my friends, my family and especially my brother and sister, without whom i wouldn't be me...

You are to me what life is to living...
My shadow, my teacher, my friend, all my sins forgiving.

You are to me what flow is to river…
My speed, my trait, my strength, one who leaves me never.

You are to me what color is to flower…
My beauty, my feature, my identity, which will make me likable forever.

You are to me what water is to fish…
My life, my world, the inevitability, only within which my life is full of bliss.

You are to me what rainbow is to eyes…
The colors, the beauty, the pleasure which adds splendor to my life.

You are to me what light is to dark…
My hope, my dream, my boon to provide me when the conditions are stark.

You are to me what a goal is to achiever…
My destination, my incentive, my triumph where lie joys and glory galore.

You are to me what only you can be to me…
My pride, my guide, my soul without whom i wouldn't be!

A Happy Man

I was in a foul mood (don’t say what’s new in that). In fact my whole project batch was. Our project guide had just bashed us for a ‘Pathetic job that you have managed to do throughout the year’. “The project is not even 40% complete” he said. And as usual we were cursing him.

“Does he himself know how to declare a variable in ASP.NET!!” - Nikhil.

“He cannot even guide us if we have any technical problems!!” – Shirish.

“He must be the worst project guide in the world, in fact, I should say in the whole universe!!” – Vishal.

“That stupid s*%#@%&*@ !!” – Me (who else!).

And so it went on throughout the day. Something or the other kept annoying me and the whole day was wretched. As I was about to go to sleep that night I thought our project guide was not happy with our work; we in turn were not happy with him. In fact all around the world everybody keeps cursing someone because they are not happy. Friends curse friends, teachers curse students who in turn curse them, employees curse their boss and vice versa, politicians curse people and vice versa. And I wondered whether there is a happy soul in this world who actually likes and loves what he/she is. Finding that person will really be a tough task. And so I thought this will be a good time-pass in the PL. So, I decided to go on a quest to find that happy soul and ask him/her the secret of happiness. With this resolve I went to sleep.

* * *

I looked at the clock and thought it must be showing wrong time. 1 O’clock, surely I have not slept for 15 hours. Then I tried to concentrate on the reason why I was waking up and I realized that someone was kicking me.

“Wake up you good for nothing pothead and study!!” – Tejas.

I woke up and got done with my morning routine. When I came to my room I found Tejas studying or rather trying to study. With him it was always like this. He has to have some time-pass along with his books. When he saw me getting ready to go out he asked – “Where are you going?”

I told him as I always do. We never hide anything between ourselves (or at least I think so). He did not laugh as I had expected. He just shook his head. “Why can’t you act normal for once? Only 10 days are remaining for exams. Why don’t you study instead of going on this shit mission of yours?”

“Relax partner, there are still 10 days!! 2 days for each subject and I will pass. Don’t worry.”

He again just shook his head. This time he really looked like my father after we have had a discussion on… ammm…any topic!! I always took it as a sign of encouragement. So, after all I was ready to go on my mission.

* * *

I came back in the evening fully depressed. No one in this world seemed happy. And as I always do when I am depressed I called my father. I told him everything. And then I asked - “Dad why is it that these people keep trying to find excuses to run away from happiness when happiness is all that you seek in life?”

Dad said – “Because people love excuses. Then it doesn’t matter whether they are to run away from responsibility or happiness.”

“But why can’t just they be happy?”

“As I already told you people want and have excuses for everything in life. It is how you look at them. Whether you look at them as excuses to run away from happiness or as challenges to remain happy. This decides whether you can be happy or not.”

“Then what is happiness?”

“Happiness is a state of mind. Always remember this – ‘you are only as happy as you think you are’. So being happy is up to you.”

“So how do I become happy?”

“Haven’t you understood? It is up to you! Ok. Tell me have you discussed this with your friends?”

“No.”

“Then do it and hopefully you will understand.”

So I went to Neeraj and Ashish’s room where we usually gather for time-pass. All were there. Parag, Omkar and obviously Neeraj and Ashish. I gave them all the background and they all burst out laughing. I said – “Let me know when you become serious so that I can tell you further.”

I am their senior so they instantly became serious. Although I could see that they were having a tough time suppressing their laughter. I started,

“So after telling Tejas I went out and wondered where to go and what I actually needed to do. Then I heard a sound which only a large gathering of people can make. I was curious. I went to find the source of that sound and found out that a crowd was gathered to see shooting of some film and that a famous actor was taking part in it. I pushed my way forward to see what was going on. A supposedly romantic scene was being shot,

“Actor – ‘Main tumhare liye kuchh bhi kar sakta hu Jaanam!!’”

“Should have asked him to pee in the pants” – Parag, laughing like a madman.

“Imagine him actually doing it! Girl’s reaction would have been ultimate! Watching with horror as a man peeing in his pants is proposing her!” – Ashish.

“And she would have had to accept!” – Omkar.

At this even I could not help laughing till my stomach hurt and my eyes were filled with tears. After a while the laughter subsided and I continued,

“I will leave rest of the scene out of it. Then I thought – ‘If anyone in this world is happy it must be an actor. Always getting to be different personalities and all that artistic satisfaction. I must seek him.’ Fortunately getting a word with an actor is easy. After the scene I went and pretended that I was his biggest fan and that I had watched every one of his movies. He seemed very pleased. Then I asked,

‘You must be very happy with what you are.’

‘To be honest I am not at all happy. I would give anything to become an engineer (if only he knew).’

‘But you get to do what you want with all those different types of roles.’

‘Not at all. If you look at my last 15 movies I have only played the lover boy role.’

‘But people love you for that.’

‘Yes, but I want to do different roles. And they do not like it. Further being famous also takes away my freedom and brings many scandals in my life.’

‘So you are not happy?’

‘No way. I am the least happy man that you can get.’

“I confess that I was disappointed. Despite having so many fans, huge wealth and fame the actor was not happy. So, I wondered who should I go to. And then I thought a doctor is the person I want to see. With all the respect and social prestige he has, he must be the happiest among all. So I turned towards Dr. xxxxxx’s clinic as I had a slight acquaintance with him.”

“Him? Last time when Sudarshan was ill we took the case to him. He said hurry him to the specialist otherwise he may go into a coma. And then the specialist said he has dehydration.” – Neeraj said and everybody smiled remembering the incident. “He also bores you with his PJ’s. Once when I went to him he asked – ‘Why is pepe jeans so expensive?’ I said I don’t know. He answered – ‘So simple. Because you have to pay twice. Pay-pay.’ ” Another round of laughter. When it subsided I continued,

“So as I was saying I went to see him. After the preliminaries and assuring him that I was not ill and hence needed no injections I came to the point.

‘Sir, are you happy with what you are?’

‘Do you want an honest answer?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Then no. I am not at all happy with who I am. No peace of mind. I am constantly on duty as I never know when an emergency may come up.’

‘But you earn so much of money.’

‘Yes, but where is the time to spend it! Someone is getting ill all the time.’

‘But you also have so much of respect and social prestige.’

‘You should see what I have to hear when my diagnosis goes wrong. People don’t remember to pay respect then.’

‘So you are not happy?’

‘Not at all. By the way do you know what you call a thing that kills man?’

I did not know, but I risked a guess – ‘A doctor?’

‘No. you call it Man-Mar (Myanmar).’ But I could see he was not pleased with my answer.

“So I got out of his clinic and thought that even a doctor with a God like social status is not happy so who else should I go to. And I wandered off in my thoughts. I don’t know how much I walked but I came to a halt in front of a police station. And suddenly I thought this is one satisfying job. Cleaning the criminals from the society. So I went in seeking a word with the police inspector (you are not supposed to ask how such important people had time for me. This is a liberty that the author can take.). He seemed a bit relieved because he had just caught a notorious criminal. I thought he must be happy.

‘Sir, are you happy with what you are?’

‘Are you a press reporter? If you are, then I am very happy.’

‘No, no, sir, you are misunderstanding.’ And I gave him all the background.

‘Oh… I don’t think you will find any. At least I am not happy. Daily tensions whether I will go home or not. Plus all the low salaries and stuff that goes with government job.’

‘But what about the satisfaction of removing criminals from society?’

‘With precisely this thought I had joined police 10 years ago. But after all these years I have come to know that all a man wants is a peaceful meal with his wife with no fear of a bullet coming from somewhere and killing him.’

“I was again disappointed but understood. I felt sad about how people with such high goals are disappointed and changed by the system into disillusioned individuals. Now where do I go? I suddenly remembered I had not eaten anything since morning. So, I went to a nearby restaurant and settled for a dinner. In the corner I saw a man, presumably a middle class man, sitting with his wife and two children enjoying his dinner and having a great time. And I remembered that often simple people are the happiest people in the world. So I decided to talk to this man. But how, was the question. Suddenly the man rose and asked waiter for the toilet. This is my chance I thought. I went in after him. When he was through I said,

‘Good evening sir. My name is Prasad.’

‘Good evening. Do I know you?’ he was confused.

“I told him my story in short and asked him the same question,

‘Are you happy with what you are?’

“Like a man who was being relieved of a huge burden he started speaking,

‘I am a very worried man because I always have problem to make ends meet. I have a lovely wife and two children and money never seems enough. I have to pay installments for loans on car and house. I wonder when I will be a free man again.’

‘But you have a family that loves you very much and will stand by you through thick and thin.’
‘But you cannot survive on love alone. You need money for that.’

“I was getting irritated with his overemphasis on money. And I knew there was no point in pursuing this discussion further. So, I thanked him and went on my way without noticing that I still had not eaten anything. I was thoroughly frustrated, irritated and disillusioned. I wondered whether there is a happy person in this world.

“And this guys, is the whole story.”

After several seconds of silence Parag said – “don’t take tension yaar. I know how to make you happy. Let’s go out.”

We all went out and had a lot of fun. More than we usually do. I was already feeling better. We came back after a while. As I was going to my room Nikhil Kulkarni came to me and said – “Chaps I just read this on the potter site. A new clue about the 7th horcrux. You won’t believe what they have to say.” And we discussed it for about an hour. Then as per my habit of these days I was about to call my sister. But suddenly my mobile rang and it was her. A smile spread on my lips. Tonight the sound of her voice was even sweeter.

After I was done talking with her I just changed and lay on the bed thinking.
I thought, I have friends who know how to change my mood and make it cheerful. I thought, I have friends who know exactly what I like and wait to discuss it with me. I thought, I have a great sister who always listens to me when I want to speak and never complains. I thought, I have a family who love me so much and are always there to guide me. And I remembered, “You are only as happy as you think you are”.

And I thought, I am the happiest person on this earth.

My affair with talent

Talent is one thing which I have never possessed in my life. My parents always used to say, in fact, are used to saying that there has never been a dud like me in the whole family. And I have been trying to make up for it throughout whatever life I have had. And there is no need to say I have failed miserably every time. I find it a miracle that I have made it so far in engineering. As I was saying, I have goofed up every time I tried to do something clever. So I thought if I give my parents a talented daughter in law perhaps that will make them happy. And so my affair(s) with talent began.

First up I thought that talent meant getting good marks. So I started to look up for the most intelligent girl in my class. And there she was! She was always the topper from my class (I won’t name her for obvious reasons). With her thick glasses and a large load of books on her shoulder, she wasn’t exactly the most beautiful girl, but as I said, very ‘talented’. And you won’t believe my luck; she fell for it (I later discovered it was because no other boy liked her)! So we started going out. I overlooked any whispering and giggling, when we passed by any group, very righteously and contemptuously. I made myself believe that they all were jealous of me. But to be honest, being with her wasn’t really exciting. She kept talking about books, subjects and marks (I hated the last part). She also vowed that she will make me study harder (I shuddered) and help me get good marks. But I endured. But finally when she proposed I had to let go. She said, “You are as inevitable to me as a human skeleton is to biology” (my friends still double up with laughter when I tell them this story). Considering my thin body (I would prefer to call it slim), I wondered whether I literally was important to her in the same way (considering her inclination towards medical science). And so, as I said, I let go. Later I remember overhearing her talking about ‘an excellent chance gone begging’.

Then I started looking for other girls who may be talented. And then I thought I had found the ‘Miss Perfect’ for me. She was the best in athletics in the whole school and also in the district (I never believed the latter). Again she was not the most attractive around but ‘talented’ nevertheless. So one day I asked her for a date and guess what, she said yes ( I later found out that it was because no other boy asked her out as she was taller than all of them)! Being with her wasn’t much fun either. She kept talking about people like Carl Lewis and Sergei Boobka (Who the hell was he? Or she?). She was also a health freak. After looking at my thin (slim) body she put me on a strict fitness regime to improve my health. As a result my weight dropped further. The regime became even harder. And I became even thinner (Slimmer). But when on a Valentine’s Day she proposed I had to let go. She said she loved me and added that “I will do everything in my capacity to make you as strong as Arnold Schwarzenegger” (Friends react in the same way as in the last case). I later heard that she referred to me as ‘that skinny street dog’. But I could put up with that so long as I did not have to do 25 push-ups and deeps each.

So this time I told myself that I have to be more careful. I did not want to mess it up again. I again started looking for ‘talented’ girls. This time I was a bit choosier, so I let pass many of the girls. And then I settled on one. She was strikingly beautiful and extremely good at music. She could not only sing very well but also play a handful of instruments like flute, veena, tabla, harmonium and saxophone (I like the sound of that).
So I found it surprising that she was still single (I was to learn the reason later on). So when I asked her out she agreed and I was overjoyed. And so our affair started. I was amazed to know that her whole family was made up of musicians and singers. Then when she told me that her family wanted a son in law (Wasn’t she being a little too fast?) who was good at music too, I was alarmed. But I thought I could do it. So, she forbid me from eating any sweets, from drinking soft drinks and obviously no oily stuff was allowed (how I missed butter chicken!). I kept my nerve. I went on through all the boring chats about classical music and even more boring music lessons she gave me on our dates ( Can you imagine that! Lessons on a date!). And obviously I wasn’t improving at all. So when she said while proposing that she will make me a great singer even if “I have to make you stand in cold water on freezing winter mornings” I had to say no thanks (For this one friends sympathize).

By now I somehow had a reputation of dumping girls so no one else accepted my proposals anymore. This way my affair(s) with talent was abruptly halted. But I have not given up. In fact if you are a talented girl reading this, will you go on a date with me?