Love story.

From across the room their eyes met. He smiled. She returned. Everyone else was least interested in anyone but the birthday boy. The birthday song was sung and party had begun. Also, so had their story.

They spoke. A lot. She smiled because he made sure she did. He wasn’t one of those who’d go down on one knee and fancy the woman with a flashy ring but she didn’t have those kind of tantrums either.

He was a cute boy with pretty eyes. She was just another gal. He charmed his way with women and she just sat their and blushed. He didn’t let her get distracted for a bit. Honestly there was nothing that could possibly do that to her.

They talked for hours. They were young and so was the night. He got her favourite track to be played and they danced. They danced like no one was looking but in fact everyone was. It was a special kind of feeling she never had before. She liked it very much and made that very obvious with the glow on her face. He was never more proud of himself.

And then in the middle of this beautiful night something really astonishing happened. There was a massive jerk. The kind you don’t experience everyday. The floor cracked. And slowly to did one of the walls. A part of the roof just dropped like extra cheese from a cheese burst pizza. The chaos needed no invitation. There was music and shudder and something that seemed like an eternity of screams. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him. He asked her to not worry and trust him on getting her out safe. It was an earthquake, how could she not get scared? She still said yes and followed his lead. It was not that high a building but the damage was massive.

As soon as the situation seemed over and hardly anyone was found injured, a unanimous decision was made to get out safely. Everyone rushed to the gates and balconies. These two picked the gate. The hand was still held and movements were brisk.

They all tried to run outside but would the earthquake let go that easily? It appeared not. It struck again. This time, even harder. He had just made his way out and another part of the ceiling dropped itself with people from the floor above. The ceiling aimed right at her and of course didn’t miss the target. There, he saw the loss of his newly found love. The shock gripped him and made him numb. Movements were still happening around but for him, everything paused right there.

People spotting at a concert.

Listing again.

For a second let’s pretend this is a book you’re starting to read and on the first page is written,

‘This list is dedicated to my dear friend who just got out of his hiding. Welcome back!’

So, I’ve attended a couple of concerts recently and plan to attend more in the near future not because of my sheer love for music but because of the kind of people I come across. Everybody at a concert loves music, looks their best and probably is high on something or the other but there are some who stand out in that massive crowd. Just going to list down a few.

1. The DJ: Of course. It’s his moment of fame. His time. His gig. His music. His wanna be dressing style and his rules. But you’ve got to love the DJ for he calls all the pretty gals from in the front row or on the shoulder to the stage. Moment of glory for them, I guess? And eye candy for the rest of the crowd.

2. The official cameramen: People you will generally see roaming around geared with fancy cameras and making the crowd look beautiful. Poor kids, attend the gig and yet can’t enjoy the gig.

3. The Regulars: These are the kids who can afford to go to every gig in the town/ country. “OMG! This DJ who I know only one song of, is coming to perform in our city? Must. Go. Mom! Give me your credit card details please!”

4. The bouncers: Black body hugging T-shirt that highlights their man-boobs is the typical attire of any bouncer in any gig. Don’t even try smiling at these guys cause a response will be, “Kid, you’re doing drugs?” Yes. I’m doing drugs cause you know, I’m not allowed to be happy otherwise.

5. The kids: No matter how old you are you will see someone younger than you. This is again one of those ‘rich kids who trick their parents into buying the tickets for them case’ or wait.. isn’t their pocket money grand enough to afford a gig? Yes, I’m sure it’s the latter. Just btw, I’m not jealous of you, you 13 year old! Hymph!

6. The uncle and aunty: I don’t know if it’s just me but I’ve always noticed one old couple who doesn’t look like they know shit about the DJ and still come for the gig for I don’t know what. Not like, “Arre, mere bete ka gig hai, chalo free mein time pass kar aayein!” Cause obviously the DJ isn’t Indian. Strangely I’ve seen them only entering and leaving the gig, what happens during the gig neither do I know nor do I want to.

7. *Click*Click*Click* Types: This is one group that you can’t understand. They pay the same amount for the gig but all they do throughout the gig is, “Excuse me, can you please click a picture of me? With the DJ in the background. With that light. With things that I don’t really care about but need to click cause how else will I update my social media?” I don’t care if you click, at least don’t spoil the gig for me?
There are also those who practically record the entire gig on their phones. How many WhatsApp videos do you plan to broadcast, dude?

8. The hotties and the behenjis: There HAS TO be a considerable amount of chicks in a gig that fall in these categories. The hotties that hardly dance and end up becoming the eye candy material for the guys and the behenjis who wear stuff that I wouldn’t even wear at home.

9. Yawn OK Please: These guys are underslept or over worked or something cause all you see them doing is walking around with a bigass yawn. Now it would be harmless if it were not contagious. But you don’t want to dance at your favourite DJs’ tunes showing the entire world the inside of your mouth, do you?

10. Koi Kahe Kehta Rahe types: No matter who is DJ is, these guys are so dedicated to their own beloved favourite Bollywood steps like the Koi Kahe Kehta Rahe that they will only dance to that and embarrass India.

11. The Campfire Crowd: And then there’s the campfire. Slippers, shoes, bags, cellphones and every other possession is dumped in the center and the group begins to dance around it. Forget about the fact that the rest of the crowd doesn’t even have enough space to stand, these guys dance like it’s nobody’s business.

12. I HAVE TAKEN A NIGHT OUT AND I HAVE TO GET WASTED: Kids. Again. Sigh. Get drunk. (I’m not sure if their capacity is low or some massive pre gaming scenes) These kids act all drunk tripping and falling on them male classmates and then grinding and kissing their lust out. And I’m just like, go do this homework at one of your houses and save us the nightmare!

13. On the shoulder: When pretty skinny women get on shoulders of cute muscular guys, it’s eye candy for both the genders. But when a frail guy gets on the shoulder of a fat guy, bro, go home, you’re drunk.

14. Bucket guys: These guys buy exactly one bucket of alcohol, cause expensive, and roam around for three hours with it. Not only that, but they walk around with it ultimately ending up spilling more than drinking. On our clothes. And then flaunt capacity by mentioning, “Pura bucket down kiya phir bhi kuchh nahi hua!”

15. Creepy guys: Is any concert ever complete without this bunch? No. They stare. And stare. And stare. And stare.

*Still staring*

What kind are you?

One last hug.

He grabbed her by her waist gripping her tightly. She twitched a little, shut her eyes but went closer anyway. He said, “I love you.” She’d heard that enough to not believe in it anymore. She nodded. Said she did too. This time, not meaning a word. He apologised. Said he knew he’d done her wrong. She nodded, once again.

She had seen him in the arms of another woman while he claimed to have loved her. That image just wouldn’t get out of her head. She fought with it, tried to throw it out, tried to make herself believe in their love but all her efforts seemed to be going down in vain when she saw him today.

He cupped her head with his huge caressing hands, looked her in the eye and asked for her forgiveness. She continued her gaze at the floor. She had nothing to say to him for she knew if she said something, she’d take him back.

He carefully leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She kept thinking of things to distract herself, eyes still shut. Her body was giving in even though she tried refraining herself. She fought this battle in her head with her winning and losing both at the same time. She knew he wouldn’t do that again. She thought that the first time too but he ended up breaking her trust. She couldn’t go through all of that again. She needed to put a stop to that. She needed to close this. She needed an end.

But where would this bring an end to anything? He would rule her thoughts for as long as she could think of. He would be gone but he would still be missed. Looking at anything would remind her of him. She could break down in tears at any moment now. She wanted to send him away but she didn’t want to let him go.

Was there any other way to get things done?

But she put her foot down. Wrapped her arms around him. Hugged him as tightly as she could. She could see a smile curling up on his face. She captured this image thinking she’d need it later. Gave him a peck, touched his face then turned around and walked away to never ever see him again.

15 reasons why you shouldn’t date a Gujju boy.

Statutory Warning: Everything said in this post is all in good humor. I am a Gujarati girl myself.

Round rotis

So my list making continues to an extent where I’ve started bitching about my own people. Yes, all of you are my own people cause I’m a human and you are humans and all that but Gujaratis are MY PEOPLE.

I’ve grown up mostly around Gujju boys so didn’t really realize how funny they could be until I spent time with a lot of non-Gujjus.
So here’s a list of why one shouldn’t date a Gujju boy.

 

15. In most probability the Gujju boy will be a vegetarian. Even if he pretends to eat/lick the non-veg food that you offer, he’ll not tell his parents about it and his excuse will be that he’s just doing that to ‘fit in’. (I’m a vegetarian.)
14. Gujju boy will not be very educated but he’ll obviously be great with money. Even if he sucks at math he’ll count your notes like a pro. You don’t want to date a ‘Note Counting Machine’.
13. He has very few options in mind post college. He would either want to join the diamond market, start dealing in shares, open a small stationery/ general store shop or get into some chill job in the film industry. Less work, more money, you see?
12. He comes with baggage. Literally. His paunch.
11. He has a bald patch. If he doesn’t have it already, he will eventually get it.
10. He’ll expect you to cook. ‘Darling, please make me hot rotis with this vegetable?’ Sigh. Go ask your mom to pamper you, please?
9. His shirt has all sorts of gross patterns stitched on them. Flowers and ‘mehendi designs’ are all nicely embroidered on his wacky loud shirts. If they’re plain do expect them to be of some hideous shade.
8. He cannot dance at a party. You’ll spot him either standing at one corner having Coca Cola or doing Dandiya right in the center of the club. You’ll also periodically see him do his classy neck movements when he shakes a leg.
7. Food is his ultimate priority. He cannot travel anywhere without carrying a packet of something cooked at home. ‘Thepla’ and pickle will be his priority though.
6. Some men like it when you can sing/ dance, some like it when you go all dirty on him. He’ll LOVE you if you can cook him nice ‘undhiyu’. (It’s a mix vegetable dish, in case y’all are wondering.)
5. He cannot talk in proper English. He just cannot. Either his language sucks or the way he writes/types. There’ll rarely be a Gujju boy who’ll sweep you off your feet with his words.
4. He can’t come up with smart comebacks. The internet is ruling the minds but the Gujju won’t come out of his calculator. He won’t know how Twitter functions, he won’t get the reason why one shouldn’t like their own status/ picture or even how you should respond to a certain joke.
Friend: Knock knock!
Gujju Boy: What? You’re stupid or what?
3. He’s a die-hard cricket follower. So much that it gets annoying. But of course, if he won’t watch, how will he bet on the teams with his friends?
2. He uses Sampoo and not shampoo. He won’t even know what a conditioner would be good for. Though he obviously will have it in his bathroom.
1. If he gets into a bar fight, no one will take him seriously once he decides to abuse. When you hear stuff like ‘aye vaydo!’, ‘vaaghri’ or ‘chaaplo’, you won’t go all, ‘What the hell did you just say?’, you’ll just go, ‘Hahahahahahaha! Acha bhai sorry, okay?’

Dexter’s Laboratory

cast

All of us dreamed to own that laboratory. We sighed after he accomplished some mission. We hated when Dee Dee entered his lab to ruin his experiments. We sometimes even cried at the fact that our tiny little houses didn’t have this huge reading room which would lead us to this huge-ass lab which our parents weren’t aware of.
Quick question, who paid for all that electricity bill? Bill Clinton? (Okay, not funny.)

I always wondered how these characters would be when the grew up, like all of us. Would they have successful promising careers like we guess they would or would they end up hating their lives more than the kids below the poverty line in India.

*And then Breaking Bad happened*
(No. Before we start the question and answer round, I don’t watch breaking bad. I’ve just seen one episode. Enough for me to make a reference, here.)

So, what struck my brain was, what if, Dexter grew up to become a Meth producer? Like, he already has a secret lab that no one knows of. What else does he need? Not like he goes out to buy whatever resources he needs, he has it all! So, he starts his meth producing lab and as usual our Dee Dee in her late 20’s enters the lab in her own jolly, jumpy ways. “Oooh what does this bottle have? Can I drink it, Dexter?” And before he can say,”Dee Dee, NOOO!”, she has already gulped it down her throat.

*ZOOP*ZAP*SNAP*GOBBLE*GIGGLE*STUMBLE*STRETCH*FART*

Oh sorry, the fart wasn’t supposed to be there.
Anyway, so she likes it. The lab is pink and all that. The robots are dancing with her. Rainbows and Ponies and Lalala.
She becomes an addict. Starts becoming even more hyper. Even more thinner. Now that you look at her, she already looks like a meth addict to me. Of course she doesn’t sleep for long cause more than half of the time you see her sneaking around in Dexter’s room. She’s frail and hyper too.

Did I imagine that by the end of this post, I’d come to realize something this weird? No. Childhood ruined.

images

One.. Two.. Three..

There she sat, watching a movie. A very interesting movie. “It’s too late, I should sleep now.”, she thought to herself. She turned her laptop off and pulled the blanket over her. 

There was silence. The lights were dim. The fan was also still. The only thing that made sound was the hand of her tiny alarm clock. She yawned, sighed and closed here eyes.
*Knock knock*
Now her eyes were wide open. She gasped but softly. Her roommate was at her friend’s place for the night and no one else was supposed to be in the house at this hour. She had heard a lot of stories about the ghostly history of the house but was never convinced enough. 
A drop of sweat trickled down her forehead. Was it because of the blanket covering her head or because of the knock?
*Knock knock*
Now it was time to panic. This knock came from her balcony. All her bravery had suddenly been cloaked. She hunted for her cell phone and not so surprisingly, she couldn’t find it. The thought of peeping through the blanket and looking at the balcony was slinking away.
She had decided. She wrapped herself in the blanket and counted the apparent ghosts till she passed out.

The Symbiosis Curse

Sumedh Natu

I dread telling people in Pune I’m a Symbiosis student. It takes a huge amount of courage. One needs to take a deep breath and say it as casually as possible and wait for the interviewer to roll his eyes and slowly contort his face in disgust like a jumbled Rubiks cube. In nine cases out of ten, he will proceed to put you in the category one associates with Mexican drug peddlers. In the tenth case, the candidate will turn out to be a fellow Symbian, who will make a mental note to bitch about the worthlessness of your particular institute at some point later in his life.

I would love to tackle some FAQs at this stage. Firstly, we aren’t all rich, spoilt brats. Just because we happen to wear a uniform involving the amalgamation of a shirt and trousers and speak the English language with above average…

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