Monthly Archives: May 2007

Liar (concluding part)

Story so far : Leon and Lesa had been college sweethearts, and also the hottest couple of their college. They pass out of their college and Leon’s lack of substance and careless attitute towards life force Lesa to get her marriage fixed elsewhere . Leon is unable to come to terms with this fact and misbehaves with Lesa. They part on an extremely bitter note.

Leon came straight home from the restaurant and downed a few shots of neat vodka. That instantly relaxed his nerves, which were almost at a breaking point from all the stress he had had in the evening. This made it easy for him to sway his own emotions. He knew something was nagging him from the inside, but by now he’d become an expert at suppressing it, at playing with his own emotions to convince himself of things. ‘Who the hell does that bitch think she is, that she’s the only girl that I can have? That I’ll allow myself to get affected by her leaving me? Oh, she can go to hell for all I care…’ were Leon’s last thoughts before he drifted off to an alcohol induced sleep.

Lesa got busy with her wedding preps and tried to forget Leon. They’d almost become a part of each other in all these six years, and it was very hard on her. But she had taken her decision after considerbale thought. She’d known Michael since they were kids, had played together and all. Leon did leave a deep void inside her, and many nights she had to cry herself to sleep, but she knew Michael would fulfil this emptiness inside her, and she tried to remain cheerful all this time.

Leon’s peace of mind grew progressively worse everyday after the first day. This nagging feeling from inside him grew sharper everyday. He was afraid to explore it, and as such tried to suppress it the best he could, but it made him even more miserable. Besides, he was missing Lesa. He tried to busy himself with his office work, tired to mix with his office mates, even took one of his female colleagues out for dinner. But nothing could match Lesa, he realized. Every day continued to be the worst ever for him. He was getting overwhelmed by misery every passing day.

Leon woke up one evening to find some post in his postbox. Surprised, he looked it up. It was Lesa’s wedding card.

He grew crazy at the very sight of it. He felt as if he were bound and gagged and couldn’t even move an inch, couldn’t even breathe. He wanted to shout, shout till something happened. Right now, he could punch the walls, jump off from a building, do anything to get Lesa back. But he knew that all this was fultile. Lesa was now with love with somebody else, and he knew that he could turn the flow of the Yamuna river that flowed through his city, but not that of Lesa’s heart.

Leon got out and got himself drunk. It was late into the night by the time the bar closed. He walked towards his apartment, staggering, falling by the wayside, picking gimself up and then walking. He passed his college building, went to the gate and holding the bars, looked inside. He burst into tears. Howling like a kid, he looked at all the landmarks where he and Lesa had spent the happiest time of their lives. He cried and cried, and with his tears, he felt his own pettiness, all his follies flowing away…

“Dearest Lesa,I know I have caused you enormous grief. I know I don’t deserve to be listened. But you must do this for me, as you have done numerous things for me in the past. You must listen to me one last time.

I’ve been a very small man. When it was time to build a character, I didn’t build any. Because to do so, you have to pass through difficulties, face tough times. I had always been a bloody pretender, pretending to myself that I could get past the challenges by doing some quality pretending. Every man has god sitting inside him, guiding him through his voice of conscience. I was so afraid of treading the unknown path, that I not only suppressed that voice, but also tried to shut it down. As a result, now I am left with nothing.

I know it’s too late for you, and even if it weren’t, you deserve someone better than me. I wish you and Michael Best of Luck for you future life. It’s enough for me that you did love me sometime. The time I spent with you was the best ever that anyone had, and I can find comfort in that. If there’s anything I can do for you anytime, you can have anything.

Leon”

Leon wrote the letter in one go, and regarded it once more. He knew that he was drunk, and that the letter lacked any flow, but he felt comfortable from within that although unimpressive for a third person, Lesa would know that it had come from his heart. He carefully put it in an envelope and decided to post it the nex day.

Waking up at noon the next day, the first thing that Leon did was to hop on his bike and he went in search of a post-box. Last night’s alcohol had him in a terrible hangover, and the soothing effect was also gone. Within a few seconds of getting on his bike, he was back to his usual self; he was again conscious of the phut-phut sound his bike was making, of his swollen eyes, and dishevelled hair, and of the ‘impression’ they would leave on the females passing him by. He again wanted an out, out of this whole business of losing Lesa and apologising to her. He found a post box and stopped his bike in front of it.

Leon turned off the ignition of his bike, took out the envelope from the bag, and kicked the side stand into place. Slowly, he walked towards the beaten up, dented red and black post-box, hanging miserably from a hook attached to a concrete electricity pole. His jaws clenched, his right hand balled tightly into a fist, almost tearing the envelope it was holding in its grip. The kick he’d applied to put his side-stand into place had been much sharper than necessary. Leon stood facing the mouth of the ugly post box staring at him. He looked at it, and for a moment almost thought it was laughing away at him. He knew he was tense. Taking a deep breath, he pushed with his hand, the letter it was holding into the post box. His hand was now inside the post box, the iron plate of the box biting into the back of his palm. Suddenly, a bolt of electricity ran through his head. Violently, he pushed his hand out of the letter-box, took the envelope in both his hands and tore it to tiny, tiny pieces. ‘God damn! God damn…GODDAMMIT !’ he spat out under his breathe as he walked to his bike, kicked the engine to life, and roared away. A sudden realisation had dawned upon him, that he was a big, big liar.

PS: So this story ends here. Please be kind enough to write me your brickbats/bouquets. They’ll be read with utmost sincerity.

PPS: I actually wrote this story a year ago, but lost it in a hard disk format. Only rewrote it beacuse a certain one-year-younger-than-myself fellow deserved that his story be told. Believe me, the story had changed quite a lot in being rewritten, and rewriting was a more difficult job. I hope my efforts have paid off, and atleast someone has enjoyed this story. 🙂

Categories: Short Stories | 9 Comments

Liar (Part II)

Story so farLeon and Lesa had been college sweethearts, and the hottest couple of their batch. They pass out of college armed with PG degrees, and start off with their lives. 

Their college life had been great, but it had been in a kind of college that provides to its students scarcely anything more than a ‘great college life’. Leon had no intention of studying any further after his post-graduation. And all that he could secure was a job in a call center. Lesa had opted for a PhD programme in the university. Leon worked in night shifts, and got free only on weekends. Lesa was finding the PhD programme too hot to handle. They had promised each other that they’d call twice everyday, but as the pressures of work increased and the frequency of their meeting decreased, the need to make calls started diminishing. Besides, time was running out.

          Leon, deep in his heart knew that the time had come. But he wanted to avoid it. To push it under the carpet. Throughout his life he’d been a showman. He’d always been able to avoid the tough parts by covering them with wit and showmanship. He’d successfully hidden his lack of proper knowledge of language by making do with some extra wit and supreme confidence. He’d hidden his lack of guitar skills by shaking his head with the rhythm and moving with the audience, while others in the band had produced the magic. His football goals had been more a result of his ability to push the opposing defenders around without the referee seeing him than of his actual football skills. Life can go on this way, he’d always thought. You can always avoid the tough things by making do with some quality pretending.

          And Lesa had fallen for it head over heels.

          It had been six months since the completion of their graduation. The frequency of phone calls had decreased from twice a day to twice a week. They still met every weekend, but this time the high intensity of their kisses was more due to the physical separation during the week than due to the emotional bond that they shared. Lesa was still in love with Leon, but she knew that it was time for her to take a decision. She kept dropping hints.

          ‘Leon, Rajiv proposed to Prerna. They’re getting engaged next saturday. Isn’t that great?’.

          And Leon, who had no substantial answer to this thinly veiled question, replied summoning all his charms,’Yeah yeah, I know. I just hope Rajiv gives a good bachelorette party. All work and no drink make Leon a dull boy!’. ‘

          ‘You know Leon, Satya has booked a bigger apartment in that upcoming locality…’

          ‘Bullshit Lesa, how can anybody settle for anything less than a bungalow in GK?’…

Something from his inside did tell Leon that Lesa needed concrete answers, atleast some assurance; but it was something his weak character could hardly provide. Even if you knew its actual size, a mirror-walled room still gives the impression of living in a big house. Leon had always lived under a mirror ceiling, and he didn’t have the courage to gauge the actual dimensions.

Leon always waited for Lesa at their favourite coffee joint every saturday. This evening, he found her already there.

           ‘Hey Les, how ya doin’?’ Leon shouted cheerfully at her from across the room.

          Lesa waved and gave him a tired smile. Leon knew something ws up. He came to her and wrapped his arm around her. Lesa brushed it away.

          ‘What’s the matter…’

          ‘Leon, I’m getting married…’

For Leon, as if a million bombs had dropped in his ear at once.

And Leon had thrown a fit. Although he knew that things weren’t going very smoothly, he’d never expected anything like this.

          ‘Who’s it, huh? Definitely not me.’

          ‘His name’s Michael. Works in the US.’

          ‘Aah…your old man definitely sold you out.’

Lesa looked at him with pleading eyes. ‘Leon, you know that I love you, but I can’t go on like this. It’s not about the money…’

           ‘Look Lesa, don’t give me this crap, OK’ Leon thundered, knowing all this while that while he was doing it, he was throwing away everything, all the six years of loving relationship, but still he shouted even louder, partly beacuse of the grief, but mostly unknowingly to shut out the voice from his within that shouted, screamed at him, told him that he was wrong, had always been wrong..

          ‘What do you mean it’s not about the money, huh? What’s it with me? You love me, you’ve told me innumerable times that you do. My face isn’t distorted, I can get mine up…’ and he screamed and screamed till the restaurant manager had to have him thrown out, and Lesa sat at the table, bursting away into tears…

PS: The second part of the story. Again, please let me know your opinions. Especially did or did I not succeed in painting a clear picture of Leon. The third and final part will be released in two days’ time 🙂

Categories: Short Stories | 4 Comments

Liar(Part I)

Leon turned off the ignition of his bike, took out the envelope from the bag, and kicked the side stand into place. Slowly, he walked towards the beaten up, dented red and black post-box, hanging miserably from a hook attached to a concrete electricity pole. His jaws clenched, his right hand balled tightly into a fist, almost tearing the envelope it was holding in its grip. The kick he’d applied to put his side-stand into place had been much sharper than necessary. Leon stood facing the mouth of the ugly post box staring at him. He looked at it, and for a moment almost thought it was laughing away at him. He knew he was tense. Taking a deep breath, he pushed with his hand, the letter it was holding into the post box. His hand was now inside the post box, the iron plate of the box biting into the back of his palm. Suddenly, a bolt of electricity ran through his head. Violently, he pushed his hand out of the letter-box, took the envelope in both his hands and tore it to tiny, tiny pieces. ‘God damn! God damn…God damn this…this male superiority’ he spat out under his breathe as he walked to his bike, kicked the engine to life, and roared away. A sudden realisation had dawned upon him, that he was a big, big loser.

          Leon and Lesa had been the hottest couple of their college since day one. As he had entered the college gates, uncomfortable in the formals, a group of seniors had snapped at him to come to them, and ordered him to propose to the hottest chic of his batch. And Leon, a class performer that he’d always been, had proposed to Lesa, Dil Chahta Hai style, after having sung ‘Mere sapnon ki Rani’ around her on a guitar with the whole college watching, having been collected around them in ever growing concentric circles. And Lesa knew that she ought to have either run away, or slapped this fellow’s head off. But she stood, looking at this package of boyish good looks, beautiful voice, deep black imploring eyes, and slim, but strong fingers confidently moving across the guitar fretboard with fascination, her face beaming with a slightly embarressed smile. And as soon as Leon had cried kneeling at her feet ,’Will you marry me?’, she’d replied in a low but gleeful voice, eagerly nodding her head up and down, a huge, silly smile on her lips ‘Yes, yes… of course’ and had run away, splitting the crowd into two as she did…

           After that, the five years of their graduation and post graduation had been like a dream to them. Slow bike rides early in the cold of Delhi mornings, with her arms cozily wrapped around him, the exchange of giggles and smiles in the classes, the long walks in the beautiful parks of Lutyen’s Delhi on moist grass and behind thick bushes, sharing books, burgers, gifts, going pubbing, dancing, doing gigs together onstage and winning prizes, her rushing on to the ground and locking lips just after he’d scored a brilliant goal in inter university football, his scooping her up in his arms and dancing circles on the stage when she won the inter college dance competition…Lesa hopelessly in love, Leon the perfect showman. Their college life was stuff that every kid dreams of. And on their farewell party, they were unanimously voted as the ‘Best Couple’ of their college.

          Like any kid with stars in his eyes, they walked out of the campus. To step into the world.

(To be continued…) 

PS: This is the first part of a slightly longish story. Do tell me you find it.

Categories: Short Stories | 4 Comments

A live performance

They were doing this duet. She was lending her beautiful voice to his average guitar playing. It was a mismatch from the beginning. If the voice was that of an angel fairy, the guitar playing was that of a blacksmith. Perfect example of ‘The beauty and the beast’. But she, oblivious to the beauty she possessed in her throat, had paired off with him. And what was even worse, even trusted him fully to deliver a performance matching her own.

The performance started. Both of them faced the audience, and started with the first part. The crass cacophony of the guitar got partly covered by the sweet wafting vocals, and the audience burst into appreciation of the beauty of the music. The ‘Mukhada’ having got over, the ‘antara’ started. As had been decided earlier, they were to play this part looking at each other for a better effect on the audience (and also for the pleasure of his eyes). She was poised to sing, he was prepared to strum. She looked at him, he looked at her. She started singing, and he…

Forgot everything.

His fingers refused to move as she sang on. She looked at him with a questioning glint in those two black, bottomless pools she passed off as her eyes, and he just gazed at her perfect lips rendering words to the beautiful song, at the throbbing, pulsating veins at the bottom of her curvy throat. He was suddenly awestruck, both by the beauty of the voice and of the delicate features, every bit of him urging him to take in more of this elixir inside him through his eyes and his ears…so much so that he forgot that they were in a competition, that there were people around judging them, that he just could not stand there, drinking through his eyes when there was stuff to be done by his hands….

Needless to say, they made complete fools of themselves.

PS : This is a part of a larger story I’m working on. Do tell me how it reads.

PPS: My first try at anything remotely romantic. God help me!

Categories: Arbit | 7 Comments

Parting gifts

UG2k3 has started leaving. I’m writing this post partly ‘coz I want to record this exact feeling, and partly ‘coz I just feel like writing a new post. Yesterday we saw six people off at the OBH, and I could see that it was a kinda senty moment for them. Life goes on.

Those guys left a lot of their stuff in thier rooms. Some of it was grabbed by us ‘juniors’ as memorabilia. I got a tennis ball autographed by Grawl, and also an ultra cool guitar book that was handed down to him by Moosa. What a proud legacy! Only I lost the ball somewhere. Oh, What the heck, Grawl’s autograph wasn’t gonna be there for long, anyways. There was also this Good Guy’s magazine, which was autographed by the entire Adda wing. I dunno with whom is it right now. A CAT brochure, signed by one of the CAT toppers of this year, Harminder, and also by next year’s CAT topper, Tutts. Originally they gave it to me, but that big bully Bopanna snatched it. That’s alright, ‘coz I’m gonna rob his entire room when he passes out next year. A lot more stuff is up for grabs, stuff which has been witness to some of the most ‘historic’ moments of IIIT. Go get it!

These are also the last few days I get to rub shoulders (both literally and figuratively) with the best footballer ever to walk into IIIT, the one and only Gayam Raja. Although playing opposite to him is as great a pain as seeing him play is a pleasure. He’s a real rogue at times, and when he is, OUCH! I think it was his elbow that he accidently (although right now, I’d love to state the opposite) drove into my shoulder, and boy! It really hurts even now. Another fellow Agniite, K Aditya’s already left, and before going, he handed over to me his entire college life, seen through the eyes of different camers. Yeah, a lot of pics. Quite interesting ones, some of them. Another thing he gave me was truckloads of advice, strategy, tricks etc. That guy could probably write a book titled ‘HOW TO BE A SUCCESSFUL HOUSE CAPTAIN IN IIIT’. I hope we can achieve what he did for Agni.

People continue to leave as I’m writing this post. OBH is getting emptier, sharing on DC++ is coming down everyday and not a single of the top 10 blogs on smr’s blogroll was by a 4th year when I last visited the page. Time for us to reach the high standards set by those who came before us. GoodBye UG2k3 and all the best. It was nice knowing you.

PS: My shoulder really hurts. F*** you, Raja!

PPS : Tutts walked out on his own two feet from the campus.

PPPS: Tara-Rum-Pum is worth 35 bux and no more.

PPPPS: Either my batchmates have forgotten about me, or I’m an extremely bad blogger.

Categories: IIIT, Incidences | 9 Comments

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