It’s about love… [Take-41]

[Take-40][Beginning of the story]

God’s mischief

Fortunately or unfortunately, most of the gals around me, the ladies who I really admire, are already engaged. Sometimes I think God forgot to write my love story, and so he mischievously placed them around me … so that I don’t feel left out. He sent Anjali so that I have someone to talk to, watch movies with and fight. Anja - the chatterbox, we can talk for hours together on any topic under the sky, or may be without any real topic. We don’t take day meals without each other. She is just waiting get back to Delhi and get married to her childhood love. Then god sent the bold and beautiful Pooh - my adventure partner. She is always up for any kind of adventure I can think of. She is also in many ways like my elder sister. She is fighting with her family to let her marry her college time love. Vineet (Pooh’s boyfriend) is a nice guy and is almost a part of our group now.

Since after taking leave from me they get involved on phone with their would-be partners. God sent Mansi and Shraddha so that I can talk to someone on phone. Mansi - my missed call lady. Mansi is like a voice you can fall in love with, just like you might love Lata Mangeshkar or may be Shreya Ghoshal.  And Shraddha a typical Gujju gal who claims to be my biggest fan. She was with me during the first two months of my job, after which she moved to another company in Ahmedabad, nearer to her home. We’ve never met since then, but she knows more about me then perhaps anyone else does. She taught me what true love is. I was hoping god sends me a pillion rider, who wouldn’t mind me using the disk brakes of my bike. And god sure did take care of this when I met this typical Mumbaiite girl Tanya. She managed operations in a BPO and was also a part-time fashion model. I learnt a lot in these strange, puzzling but extremely interesting relations, and I am totally indebted to them for having made my life a special one.

But my quest was for love. A person who completes me. My relation with Tanya grew to be more intimate than I would have liked. Fortunately or unfortunately, Tanya wasn’t the kind of girl I could love. And like a bird on a ship in the middle of a sea, the farther I try to fly away, I always had to land up at the same place. So my experiments with myself, my thoughts and my appraoch continued for around eight months. And then, it was August again.  August is beautiful in perhaps every country. August is what has achieved mention from almost all great English poets. August is the month of love, and it also has Ati’s birthday.

[To be continued...]