by Nikita Singh
“Avi.”
“Vatsala.”
“Stop it. Okay?”
“Stop? I haven’t even started yet. How about I write on his Wall Tagging both of you—”
“No way.”
“—and saying – My stupid little sister @Vatsala Rathore is madly in LOVE with a GAY guy, who sports a God-awful goatee and coats his lips with coloured wax, @Ronit Oberoi!”
“Shut up! You’d do no such thing.”
“I can . . .”
“You won’t. And he’s straight.”
“Quick question – What kind of men apply lipstick? Your options – Straight or Gay.”
“He didn’t apply lipstick.”
“Oh, he did. Take a closer look. Someone actually commented on that. And he agreed.”
“He said ‘Now it seems almost gay to me too.’ That’s not agreeing!”
“We seem to have different definitions of the term agreeing, don’t you think?”
This went on for a while. I gave him clarifications like ‘I like Ronit so much because that guy inspired me; I wanted to be like him.’ He took none of that.
I stayed awake almost all night to check if he executed any of his threats. Thankfully, he didn’t.
Ronit Liked three more of my Photos. Bad ones, though! I didn’t send a thank you message this time around. I knew he was lying.
Avi was a pain in not-so-decent-places. He would tease me till I’m crying, bore me till I fall asleep, irritate me till I scream, provoke me till I hit him and hurt myself! But at the end of the day, I could rest assured that he’d never cause any real harm. In fact, he was someone who always looked out for me, always had my back.
He was one of the very few people I could rely on.
Chat-15
Best Friend
November 11th, 2010
I didn’t understand what Ronit Oberoi wanted. Leading me on and letting me down had become kind of a habit for him. Did he enjoy it?
One day he’s all buddy-buddy, next day I’m a stranger to him. And what was worse was that whenever I decided to cut all ties, he made a move and when someone like him makes a move, trust me, it’s hard to hold back.
When I asked for his help relating how-to-become-a-VJ, he sent me a Message that gave information which was as vague as they come. I got angry. Three days later, he Liked three of my Photos, and I melted faster than ice cream on a hot summer day.
Then again, for the seven days following that, he didn’t reply to any of my Messages. My Diwali wishes remained unacknowledged.
And then, something happened. Something bad.
Ronit Oberoi used an Application on Facebook that ranked his best friends on Facebook depending upon –
Number of words used in Comments (in Status, Posts, Notes and Photos)
Number of Likes and Comments (in Status, Posts, Notes and Photos)
Overall best friend.
I ranked second in the first category and first in the other two.
Vatsala: I am so embarrassed.
Abhinav: @Vats – really?
Vatsala: Aa-haan.
Abhinav: @Vats: What do you mean by aa? I have a full name!!
Vatsala: By ‘aa-haan’, I meant ‘yes’. And I would really appreciate it if you refer to me as Vatsala.
I didn’t understand why he was writing ‘@ Vats’ before every Comment. It wasn’t like I was having a hard time determining if the Comment was meant for me. No one else was commenting on the Post.
Abhinav: Why? Vats is so kewl! :) :D
I decided to ignore that. I didn’t like nicknames. Understatement. I loathed nicknames. My name is Vatsala and that’s how I prefer being called. Worse was, unknown people start giving you nicknames.
It was pretty easy actually – just add ‘s’ after the first three letters. So Debashish becomes Debs, Nidhi becomes Nids, Radhika becomes Rads and so on. It’s another trait of people hailing from small towns, desperately trying to sound urbane.
Avi decided it was a good time for him to butt in. (In case you are wondering, the nickname ‘Avi’ is an exception to my I-hate-nicknames trait. I’ve known him as Avi since my birth. He’s Avi for the family).
Abhimanyu: OHHH!! Vatsala Rathore is a BIG FAN :D :P
I guess I have to start taking FAN LESSONS from her!! ;) :P
Vatsala: @Avi: you are so dead :x
Abhinav: @Vats: I would love to die if you were the one killing me. :D
I stared at the comment for one whole minute. Avi responded first.
Abhimanyu: @Abhinav: Dude, she’s talking to me. And trust me, STAY AWAY!
Vatsala: @Avi: You handle this. I’m off to sleep!
I couldn’t sleep, though. I hadn’t realised till that day that I was practically stalking Ronit. I couldn’t imagine how he must feel about me. Disturbing questions started flooding my mind. Am I suffocating him? Am I looking too desperate? Have I become clingy?
The answers I had for those questions weren’t very pleasing.
I was not that kind of a person. I didn’t believe in love, didn’t fall for guys, stayed away from commitments, hated flirts . . . hell, I even hated interaction with people I personally knew, let alone strangers on a website. Then why? Why was I so taken in by Ronit? Why was I so devoted to him? Why did I blindly worship the ground he walked on?
Is it love?
Have I changed? Have I become that kind of a person? The nice and sweet girl I was two years ago . . . Have I turned into her again? I thought she was my past and I had grown up. Was I mistaken?
I called Jaanvi and told her everything.
“What do you mean embarrassed? You did it yourself, don’t you think?” she asked.
“I didn’t realise . . .”
“How can you keep posting Comments all the time without realising? And that survey counted words from the Comments you posted, right? Can you imagine where you’d have ranked had they counted words from Messages and Chats, too?”
“Is there a rank higher than first?” I put down the phone feeling even lower than before. Jaanvi had become very self-centred around that time. I was self-centred too, but the radius of my self-centeredness was much larger. Nilaap did that to her. Boyfriends do that to girls.
My mood didn’t get a chance to dip any lower. Ronit commented on that post. Finally!
Ronit: Hey, Vatsala is a friend. She deserved it! :)
Vatsala: :D
Abhimanyu: Kitni khush! :P :P
Vatsala: Shut up, Avi!
Abhimanyu: You really mean that?
Vatsala: Most definitely.
Abhimanyu: Think again. DO YOU REALLY WANT ME TO SHUT UP?
Then it hit me. Last time when he was irritating me and I asked him to ‘shut up’, he deleted all his Comments from our conversations. It made me look like an idiot, talking to myself on my Status, Wall Posts and Photos. And as if this was not enough, he then Posted Comments like, ‘Having fun talking to yourself?’, ‘What’s with you?’ and ‘Seriously, WHAT’S WITH YOU?’
This was his way of ‘shutting up’. Avi is no regular guy.
Vatsala: Don’t you dare!
Abhimanyu: Excuse me??
Vatsala: Fine. Let me rephrase it – PLEASE Avi, not here . . .
Abhimanyu: Now it’s better. So let’s talk . . . What am I getting in return?
Vatsala: Are you kidding me?
Abhimanyu: I don’t like your tone, young lady!
Vatsala: Okay. I apologise. PLEASE don’t.
That went on for an eternity. Or almost half an eternity.
Chat-16
Obsessed
November 15th, 2010
I didn’t understand what was happening to me. The crush I’d had for Ronit had gotten from minor to major and had positively turned into an obsession.
Earlier, I knew him as VJ Ron but as I started to get to know him as a person, it felt like I was falling in love with him. On Facebook! I mean, how crazy can someone get!?
There were times when he didn’t rep
ly to my messages. Times like those made me realise that I was being foolish. He probably doesn’t even know me. Maybe he didn’t even realise that he had been chatting with the same girl whenever he chatted with me.
I decided to end it before investing too much in this one-sided ‘relationship’.
Vatsala: I don’t know what’s happening to me.
Last time I was so crazy about someone, the guy was Robert Pattinson and even that didn’t last long.
I hope this blows over too. Soon.
I sent him this Message and tried to get him off my mind. My phone rang. It was Ankit.
“Hello!” I greeted.
“Hey! What are you doing?” he asked.
“Trying to do a headstand. You?”
“Trying to study,” he laughed.
“Same thing.”
“More or less. But I’m actually trying to do that.”
“What, headstand?”
“No, study. You were the one doing the headstand, remember?”
“Trying to. But why are you studying? Is baar top karne ka saara bojh tere naazuk kandho par hai kya?”
“Right. As if I can top just by ‘trying to study’ one night!”
“One night? You’re talking as if we have tests just tomorrow!”
“I really hate to be the one to break this to you, but yeah, we do have tests starting tomorrow.”
“What the fuck!” I shouted. “Why on earth didn’t you tell me before?”
“How was I supposed to know that you didn’t know?” he defended himself.
“You could’ve read my mind!” Yes, I get very irrational when I panic.
“Will you ever come out of your fantasy world? I. Can’t. Read. Minds. I’m no Edward Cullen!”
“Hey, now you’re crossing lines here. Don’t drag Edward into this,” I warned. I know I care about all the wrong things at all the wrong times!
“Okay, whatever. Let’s come back to now. In a mood to study?” he asked.
“When am I ever?! Oh God! I’m so screwed. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
“Language, sweetie!” Really, Ankit can be pretty loony at times. I’m dying here and all he seemed to care about was my language!
“I’m flunking tomorrow! Stop teaching me manners!”
“What am I ever going to do with you? Now listen, do you want to fail tomorrow?”
“Hell, no! Why would I want that?” Told you, Ankit could be loony at times!
“I don’t know; you’re a weirdo! You want loads of things that are rather unusual.”
Now that was below the belt. Why was he bringing that up? I opened my mouth to retort, “I—”
“No, let’s not get into that now and ‘try to study’ instead,” he changed the topic. See, I have that effect on people! I scare them!
“How?”
“Take out your notes, we’ll study together.”
“But I don’t have any notes,” I cried.
“You do. The whole class photocopied Abhay’s notes. Jaanvi said she gave you your copy.”
“Really? Let me see,” I said and ran to check my bag. “Thanks loads! What would I do without you? You’re my saviour! How can I ever thank you enough?” Exaggeration is one of the highlights of my character, an innate trait!
“How about shutting up?” he said. But he sounded quite pleased.
I zipped it. And four hours later, when we finally hung up the phone, we had completed three chapters. We left the other two. Who studies the full syllabus for exams? We weren’t freaks!
It was two in the morning and I was so sleepy I could barely keep my eyes open. I went to shut down my laptop. There it was – Ronit’s reply. Sleep flew right out the window!
Ronit: C’mon! Robert Pattinson?
I’m his darn driver!!! ;)
Darn? People actually used that word in real life?
I checked the time; he had sent the message about ten minutes ago. Maybe he’s still awake . . . what was he doing up so early? It must be sometime around 6:30 in the morning there at Sydney. (My mind had turned into a superb international time-convertor ever since I’d started chatting with Ronit!)
Vatsala: Hey! Don’t say that!
I’m in love with you, remember? Can’t hear anything less than perfect about you! ;)
Ronit: What? Naah, it’s just infatuation after seeing my heavily photo-shopped pictures!!! :P
Vatsala: It’s not just how you look. I’m in love with everything about you.
Your eyes, your voice, your stance . . . everything . . .
He didn’t reply for the next ten minutes.
Vatsala: And now I made a complete fool of myself :(
Ronit: No, you didn’t!
Vatsala: Oh yes, I did. I can’t imagine what you must think of me.
Falling in love with a guy on Facebook! Someone I’ve never even met!!
Hell, I hate what I think of myself. :(
Ronit: Stop being such a kid! You’re awesome! :)
Vatsala: You’re just being kind. I have never pursued someone so badly.
I didn’t know it sucked so badly.
Ronit: Why does it suck so bad?
Vatsala: Because it’s all one-sided. It has to be.
You have thousands of fans; you can’t be attached to ALL OF THEM!
I know that, still . . . I don’t know what to do . . . How to get over you . . .
Ronit: Hmm . . .
Vatsala: You’re not helping here! What do I do? :x
Ronit: I don’t know what to say! I’ve never been in such a situation before!! ;)
Vatsala: Don’t tell me! No one has been so mad about you ever before?? :o
Ronit: But no one asked me for help to get her out of it!
Vatsala: Hahaha :D I guess I’m just plain crazy! :D
Ronit: :) Hey, I g2g now . . .
Vatsala: Yeah, sure :)
Thanks, BTW. I was so stressed before . . . you made my day :-*
Day? More like night. I checked my watch: 3:17 a.m. Day.
I reread the conversation and realised that I’d started talking (more like – typing) like him. Instead of full stops, I’d started using exclamatory marks after my statements. That guy was getting under my skin.
I suddenly remembered that I had to wake up early to revise for the test. Why even bother sleeping? The test started at 7:00. I couldn’t comprehend why in the name of Devil would anyone schedule tests to start at such ungodly hour?
But then, what you can’t change, accept, right? What other choice did I have, anyway? So setting up an alarm for 5:00, I went to sleep.
I didn’t wake up at five, quite obviously. When the alarm rang, it felt like I had slept just minutes ago. And it is a universally accepted fact that the sleep gets immensely sweeter after the alarm rings and you turn it off!
Jaanvi had to literally drag me out of my bed to the exam hall that day! You don’t need to be a brain surgeon to decode that I screwed up that test! BAD!
Chat-17
Not-so-gross
November 16th, 2010
“How was your test?” I heard Jaanvi asking Nilaap. Now I didn’t mean anything to her, her world revolved around her new boyfriend, I thought. But then, did she even need to ask me about my test?
“Worse than expected,” Nilaap replied.
“Aww . . . poor darling,” Jaanvi tried soothing him with mock baby tone. I had to fake a throat clearing to check the laughter bubbling inside me.
I didn’t hover any longer anyway. I had to get home early; I was missing Ronit.
I sent him a Message as soon as I logged in.
Vatsala: Don’t mind my cousin Abhimanyu. He loves making my life hell!
Ronit: Never mind!
I didn’t continue the conversation because I thought it might make me look desperate.
I checked if the most recent episode of ‘How I Met Your Mother’ was available on Torrentz. It was. I downloaded it, changed into some comfortable clothes and watched it.
“What’s for
lunch, Maa?” I asked as I entered the kitchen.
“Your favourite, bhindi ki sabji,” she answered.
“I’ll serve,” I offered and set the table.
“So what’s going on?” she asked as we sat down to eat.
“Nothing exciting. Actually things are more boring than before, now that Jaanvi . . .” I trailed off.
“What about her?”
“Oh, nothing,” I bit my tongue. Do I ever shut up?
“I know she has a boyfriend now.” Maa stated matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“You think I’m deaf? These walls aren’t that thick.”
“Oh!” It was all I could say.
“So things are dull for you because Jaanvi doesn’t have time for you now?”
“Kind of.” I wasn’t comfortable discussing this particular matter with my mother, I mean, sure I tell her about whatever goes around in college. But she didn’t know those people personally. It was just some Aditi and some Vandana to her. But she knew Jaanvi. And her parents. I decided to keep shut.
“Pass me the rice.”
“Ankit is a nice guy,” she said next.
I choked. “Water.”
She rubbed my back and laughed, “Relax, I’m not interfering. Just saying.”
When did my mother start talking like that? When did her morals and ideals get so lenient? Was it the effect of those goddamn soap operas? Which reminded me, “What happened in ‘Pavitra Rishta’ last night?”
“Ah! The usual. Maanav and Archana still can’t express their love . . .” She launched into detailed version of yet another episode of a TV serial in which the story is nonexistent. You can know all there is to know about the storyline, just by watching its advertisements once a week. So why did I watch it religiously every night? To spend time with Maa.
After Papa’s death, we are the only people living in the house and it gets lonely. Recently, Maa had starting teaching English in primary classes at school, so mornings were taken care of. But there wasn’t much to do at nights, for either of us. The work load of a primary school teacher and a BBA student isn’t all that demanding.
So these were desperate measures.
And now Maa was becoming like me. That day she initiated conversation about Jaanvi’s love life and Ankit. She was already addicted to Two and a Half Men by then and I swear I once heard her singing ‘Love the Way You Lie’ while cooking dinner. And not Rihanna’s lyrics. Eminem’s. True story! Maybe she was spending too much time with me.