In Pursuit of Love

When I woke up today, I told myself that I will be happy today. At least I will smile and make it believable. This was because I was tired of all the pity looks thrown towards me by my colleagues in office, not to mention all my friends looked at me like a small puppy that walked with a limp. It is hard enough to be ugly, but when you are ugly and single, you are everybody’s pity case. To put salt on open wounds, I was ugly/single/and with no social skills which just made me the lowest form species available. The hierarchy was, there were (1) happy people, after them came (2) good-looking people, after them were (3) the singles, below them were (4) dogs, cats, and all the animals, and finally (5) after 50 feet of dirt and shit came my existence in the world. 

On being released from the hospital, I rode the wheelchair out the door. I wasn’t so weak that I could not walk, but some kind of hospital policy. I thought this was hospital way of telling us,   hey look we know we are a shitty hospital but at least we give you people free wheelchair rides, come back again . I smiled. Mostly because of the thought which was in my head but also because, I felt that I have just been released from jail. I told the orderly that he will miss pushing me around, but that old guy didn’t even crack a smile.

SIX DAYS LEFT It is a scientific fact that when your room is cold, you tend to have nightmares. Which was quite poetic as in the month of December, where the whole country was experiencing cold chills, I experienced my life turning into a nightmare. Her flight was on first of January, and all I could think was;   how could she do this to   me? I had arranged my apartment with balloons and flowers and ribbons. I had placed scented candles with two cushions on the floor. In my mind, I just wanted to move past the drama of her parents and all the crying of yesterday. However, she had to ruin it all by moving to U.S.A.

‘Don’t cry baby.’ I kept repeating it. I was trying to figure out, the reason for her breakdown. She said she missed her parents, when she went back to her hometown. Then why did she come back so early. The scheduled return flight was for after the New Year’s. Many questions lingered in my head as I held her in my arms. I could feel the warmth of her tears on my chest as she pressed her face in me. I felt like she was trying to read my heart beat.

               ‘Hey baby, I was missing you so much, I was just about to message you,’ I said after picking up her call. ‘Why was your phone busy?’ she probed. ‘I was talking to Karan,’ I replied, my words didn’t sound too convincing. ‘No, YOU WERE NOT, it’s his birthday and you still haven’t wished him, I just wished him.’ I’m fucked, I don’t know whether I was right or wrong in lying, but I am totally fucked. Well I have understood one thing, Pooja has an inbuilt 6th sense and her antenna only catches my thoughts which don’t include her. That’s why she keeps such long luscious hair, so to keep those antennas hidden under them. Why I had to lie, I cursed myself. Though my brain had shut down, I tried hard to come up with some excuses.

Well it was a night before Christmas, and not a creature was awake, except me! I had my reasons for being awake, I had to meet Santa and ask him to bring back my sanity. I met with Sagar this evening and he gave me news which was quite disturbing. A feeling I would best describe as getting suckered punched. You don’t know where that punch came from, but it knocks you out. Well, the news was; my ex is getting married in January.  I was with Pooja, so this shouldn’t bother me,  I tried to convince myself. However, my mind or should I say my heart was having different opinion. My feelings of suffering were getting convoluted, as I was still not able to decide what was really troubling me.

Why every girl I like has a boyfriend? I hate shopping! Pooja knows it quite well, yet we were in a mall on Saturday. I did not want to suffer alone, so I called up Sagar, my best friend. Sagar was with me in college, and we instantly became friends, as he was a lot like me,  ugly and funny.  We use to hang around all the time, never attending any classes, even if we did; we got thrown out for disturbing the class. There were not many beautiful girls left in our college with whom we haven’t flirted with. We were perfect wingmen to each other. During the last year of college, he said to me that we won’t be friends after college. However five years on, we were still thick as thieves.

I feel, women in India are the most beautiful and attractive women in the world, which explains why men spend most of their time looking at them. I an Indian male was happy to date a girl who was one of the most beautiful girls I have seen. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop my wandering eyes to look at other beauties. I can’t help it. A woman does so much work like exercising, dieting, makeup just to look good, isn’t it my duty to appreciate by giving my little attention to them.

I watched her walk away, and my mouth was left wide open. It’s great that she wasn’t looking or she could see a helpless puppy standing there with his wiggling tail wanting some affection. I wanted to say a thousand words but my mouth was on strike. If  she turns around once, she loves me,  but she didn’t. Cause things like these only happen in movies,  damn the movies filling my head with stupid notions of love.  It was getting a bit chilly, so I got back in my car and watched till the lights of her flat turned on. I guess, I was waiting for her to look out the window, see me sitting there waiting for her. Then suddenly realise how much she loves me and shouts I love you. Nevertheless, that didn’t happen either. In the end I was left confused, sad and little turned on after the events that unfolded.

When I came back from work, I was surprised to see a mail in my mailbox, it came as a surprise, as I never get any mail, I get bills and lots of it. It was a wedding invitation, ‘Sameer weds Parul’. I quickly called Pooja and enquired whether she got the card or not, apparently she didn’t. Sameer was a college friend, I didn’t particularly hang out with him, but he was more of a friend of Pooja’s. He would talk to me just because I was always with Pooja.

On a lazy Saturday afternoon, I was being summoned by Pooja, to be her slave for the afternoon as she would search each and every shop at the mall till she finds the best stilettos for her beautiful feet. I was just the muck who would carry her bags and give my expert opinion, on being asked, as to which style looks better, ‘I would rather enjoy watching her try on some new lingerie than stupid sandals, but oh well’. Pooja was a dear friend, but frankly I was a little terrified of her. She was beautiful, smart and knew Taekwondo and could easily kick my ass even though we had a height difference of one foot. After college she went to U. K. for her master’s degree and had picked up an accent, I loved listening to her talk, ‘British Accent is the best, she would say fuck you and it would sound like, I like you’.

‘So, I will pick you up at 8?’ ‘Okay, I will be waiting’ And I clicked to disconnect the call, her voice was pleasant, something I could get used to. I was a little nervous, this was the first date after my breakup, and not just any break up; this breakup was with the girl who I thought was my soul-mate, my dream girl, with whom I had spent countless days just loving her and making plans for my future, our future.