Love@Facebook

by Nikita Singh

  Later that evening, I went to Jaanvi’s place. “Guess what? I got the latest episode of HIMYM, The Playbook. It is—” I stopped when I noticed the look on her face. The phrase starry eyes suddenly crossed my mind. And not just figuratively, literally.

  “Hello?” I waved my arm in front of her face. It was when I shouted her name for the third time that she focussed her starry eyes on me.

  “Hey,” she said. She had this odd smile on her face . . . this strange glee . . .

  “Are you high on something?”

  “He kissed me. It’s the best kind of high. Period.” She announced, as if she had experienced every kind of high there was. But that was the last thought on my mind at that moment.

  Dumb as I was, all I could say was, “On the lips?”

  She nodded, blushing terribly. I didn’t know how I was supposed to react.

  Should I be excited for her? ‘On the lips? Really? How was it? Was there tongue involved? Was it gross? Did you puke?’

  Or should I act all disapproving? ‘On the lips? What the fuck? What were you thinking? Twelve days into a relationship and you already let him kiss you? On the lips? Are you freaking kidding me? Have you totally lost it?’

  However, I was saved the ordeal to decide on an appropriate response as Jaanvi herself told me every excruciating detail of how mind-blowing her first kiss was.

  “You won’t believe how . . . out of the world it was. Neil was so gentle, so tender, so compassionate . . . I was so scared at first . . .

  My heart was beating out of my chest, but he put me at ease . . .”

  Now, I won’t pretend that I wasn’t interested in knowing all about the kiss, but compassionate? Really? I was sure if it were me, I would’ve thrown up on account of such lameness – if not for the sheer grossness of the kiss itself! And I didn’t miss that she was calling Nilaap ‘Neil’ . . . Already into cute nicknames? The only person I think of when I hear ‘Neil’ is Barney Stinson! So I phased out, just kept nodding my head, pretending to listen.

  “ . . . was the best kiss ever!” she finally concluded.

  “Wait a minute. Ever? Exactly how many times have you kissed?” I had meant it as a taunt, hadn’t expected her to actually reply to that. She did.

  “Twelve.”

  “Twelve?”

  “Yup. One for each day of our being together.”

  What the fuck! Does that mean you’d kiss thirteen times tomorrow? And what about the first eleven days? Will you make up for those 66 forgotten kisses? (I’ve always been good at Mathematics!) Will you kiss thirteen times tomorrow? What if you want to kiss more someday? Will you kiss 365 times on your anniversary?

  Hold on . . . does that mean, “It wasn’t gross?”

  “Are you out of your mind? Gross? It was the most marvellous thing ever!”

  By this time, she had used all possible adjectives to describe the kiss. People say, ‘Even if you repeat a lie hundred times, it doesn’t become the truth.’ It did. I had started believing it.

  And it made me think. I was forced to face the reality. Most of my friends at college were into relationships or were trying to get into one, except me.

  Oh yes! I was trying to get into a relationship too, but in a virtual world, namely Facebook! All I had going in the name of a relationship was gigantic obsession for a VJ who let me have the privilege to chat with him from time to time. Sure, sometimes it was he who initiated the conversations but that didn’t account to anything; maybe he had been getting bored and looking for something to pass time with when he had seen me online.

  And then there was Ankit, of course. Not that I had any such feelings for him, but there was . . . something.

  Can there be a relationship? With either of them? Did I even want to have one?

  Yes, I did, I decided at that minute.

  I accepted at that very moment that I’d changed. No, I hadn’t turned into that ‘sweet and nice’ girl I once was, but my take on love had certainly gone through some major modifications.

  Well, I couldn’t say I believed in love, but I couldn’t say I didn’t believe in it either. I was hanging somewhere in between the two.

  Chat-18

  Perfect Liar

  November 17th, 2010

  Ronit’s Status said he was writing a novel. Everyone knew he was a prolific blogger. And now he has decided trying his hands on an entire book? Impressive!

  My exams were going on and I had no time to waste. But when I saw him online, I simply could not resist.

  I sent an SMS to Ankit saying:

  Vatsala: I’m running a li’l late . . . will be there in half an hour or so . . . don’t start without me!

  Ankit: Sure thing . .

  He always used two dots after sentences. I made him, saying one full stop seemed like you want to end the conversation.

  Vatsala: You’re writing a book?

  Ronit: Yep!

  Vatsala: Like . . . a full 300 page novel??

  Ronit: Around 250 pages, yeah!

  Vatsala: What’s it about?

  Ronit: Me!

  Vatsala: REALLY??

  Ronit: Yes, life as an RJ, then VJ . . . now actor . . .

  Vatsala: Wow! I can’t wait . . .

  That was a lie. VJs were trying their luck at everything. A well-known VJ, Cyrus Broacha, wrote a novel titled ‘Karl, Aaj aur Kal’, I once saw a copy of it at a bookstore and just by looking at the cover, I decided I’d never read such a thing. Being a VJ and a novelist together didn’t seem right.

  So was the case with being a VJ and an actor. Remember VJ Anusha’s Virudhh, VJ Rannvijay’s London Dreams and several other such failed attempts by other major or minor VJs? All their movies were big flops and they weren’t appreciated for their roles in the films either!

  But Ronit was different. His movie would be a huge blockbuster and novel a huge bestseller, I was very sure.

  Ronit: That’s nice to know :)

  Vatsala: What genre?

  Ronit: This one’s a love/lust story . . . about me, I told you

  Vatsala: Hmmm . . .

  Love/lust? Was that a genre? Gosh! What is India reading now-a-days! But then again, if Ronit writes it, I’ll read it too!

  Ronit: Maybe a different kind of story next time!

  Oh! So he’ll continue writing! Nothing could’ve made me happier. We fans are like that; dying to have a piece of our favourite celebrities!

  Vatsala: About ghosts?? Or maybe Dan Brown types!

  Ronit: Don’t know about that. Just generally anything that doesn’t revolve around a love story!

  Vatsala: Oh . . . best luck :)

  People are putting up their status about your upcoming book!

  Ronit: They are???

  Vatsala: Yep . . . there’s this girl, Akansha. I don’t know her personally . . .

  We became friends chatting on your status once . . .

  Ronit: Ohh yes! I saw that!

  For some reason, ever since the announcement of his book, Ronit had started using Ohh instead of our regular Oh. And for some reason, I’d noticed!

  Vatsala: You remember?? We were going all crazy about you . . .

  Ronit: Hehe! :P :P I read through half the conversation at least . . .

  There was some talk about her boyfriend or something, I guess!

  Vatsala: Yeah, she has a boyfriend . . .

  I waited for five seconds before adding . . .

  Vatsala: I don’t!

  Ronit: I know.

  Vatsala: You’re single too!

  Ronit: I know that too.

  Why was he putting one full stop? I was getting nervous, so I backed off a little.

  Vatsala: Of course you know . . . was just stating facts!

  Ronit: Hehe! :P :P

  Now, that was slightly encouraging!

  Vatsala: A girl can always dream!! ;)

  Ronit: C’mon! You flatter. I am sure you will find someone tonnes better than me! :P

  ‘Really? Like who? Brad Pitt?’ the old
er me thought. But the newer me, who was into the lovey-dovey stuff, wondered ‘Was that a compliment?’

  I decided to take none of the two options. I decided to flirt.

  Vatsala: I ain’t looking . . . when you’re here!! ;)

  I crossed my fingers.

  Ronit: Now that’s inviting. :) :) Though, I’m really a terrible guy to date!

  Vatsala: I’m sure you’re not!

  Ronit: I am. I am cold and heartless!

  Same as me! Perfect. But I didn’t tell him that I was cold and heartless too; I didn’t want to ruin my chances with him!

  Vatsala: No, you aren’t. And even if you are, a girl always knows how to mould a guy her way!!

  He took a little longer to reply to that and by the time he did, I had chewed my nails off and they had started to hurt (and needless to say, looked supremely ugly).

  I consider that dialogue a bold move and I’m proud of myself till this day for having the guts to deliver it!

  Ronit: Aha! I am solid as a rock man! Very stubborn!

  I forgave him for calling me ‘man’ this time. Hell, I was so busy with the rest of what he’d said, that I didn’t even notice that one word! I had tried a bold move and he hadn’t backed off. That was progress. I was positively on cloud nine.

  Vatsala: Hmmm . . . We’ll find a way to make it work :P

  I never got to know his reaction to this particular comment. One thing I forgot to mention about Ranchi (but you most probably would’ve guessed by now) was that like all other small cities/big towns in India, it faced frequent unannounced power cuts. It wasn’t so bad there, it being the capital city of the state, but 4-5 hours a day was a norm.

  Disappointed, yet strangely content, I left for Ankit’s place. I was late by an hour and a half. In the fifteen minute drive from my house to Ankit’s, I went through all possible excuses I could make for being so late.

  Turned out, I didn’t need any; he was fast asleep.

  I silently entered his room, took out a book from my bag and sat down at his study table, pretending to study. Then I started clearing my throat loudly, rustling pages of my book and making other seemingly innocent noises to wake him up. Nothing worked. After one whole minute of pencil tapping, I finally had to drag my chair on the floor several times to make noise of intensity optimum to wake him up.

  He stirred, opened his eyes and sat up on his bed with a jerk. I envied him; what grace he had! I looked like shit whenever I woke up from sleep and was usually in a shitty mood, too. He looked . . . normal. How?

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” I greeted. Why did I call him that? I hated nicknames, didn’t I?

  “Since when have you been here?” he asked.

  Since when have you been sleeping? “Umm . . . it’s been sometime.” I answered vaguely.

  “Shit! I’ve been asleep for over an hour!”

  “Yeah. I thought of waking you up . . .”

  “Then why didn’t you?” he asked next.

  “Because you were looking so cute . . . and serene . . .” What the hell! Did I actually say that? Why?

  “Huh?” he gave me a half-puzzled, half-suspicious look.

  I shrugged and changed the topic. “Anyway, I thought I’d start studying and get a bit ahead of you!” I couldn’t understand why people had such big issues with lies. You get into trouble – you lie your way out, it was as simple as that.

  And I was pretty good at lying, unlike the sweet and nice girls who stammer and falter and end up getting caught. I could look you in the eye and lie with such towering level of conviction that you’d never think twice before trusting me blindly.

  Or so I thought.

  “So, how much did you study in the past hour?”

  What’s your problem? Why are you interrogating me? I’m not a bloody criminal or something. “Not much . . . I didn’t understand—”

  “What?” he was there by my side in a second. Why did he have to be such big scholar, Mr. Know-It-All!

  “Anything. I didn’t get a thing, so I gave up.” I wished I knew the titles of some of the topics, so I could at least lie with conviction.

  “Which chapter?”

  Let it go, already! “First. Anyway, guess what! I set a new high score in Angry Birds while you were asleep. Isn’t that great?”

  Then on, the conversation got a lot easier. Phew!

  “Beta, do you need anything?” Ankit’s mother asked. I didn’t know who she was talking to, as she refers to both of us as Beta, but I didn’t want to let such a chance go. So while Ankit shook his head, I ordered, “something to eat please, Aunty. I’m starved.” I was always starved.

  After Maa, if there was someone who never failed to make my mouth water, it was Ankit’s mother. She was a housewife and I had already decided by then to marry a guy whose mother is a housewife.

  And that if I didn’t get a suitable prospect, I’d marry Ankit!

  Chat-19

  Hickey

  November 19th, 2010

  It was settled. I love Ronit. Now all I had to do was to figure out a way to make him fall in love with me too.

  I decided to take it slow. No one likes you if you come onto them too strongly. Especially boys . . . they have such big commitment-issues, I could only imagine what would happen if I start acting all clingy.

  Now that I was sure I loved him, I resolved to find ways to make sure the conversations between us stayed interesting. Music is a language I speak. If only I knew what kind of music he liked . . .

  I soon found out, from his Profile Info: Metallica, Iron Maiden, Snoop Dogg and Lil Wayne. I ruled out the latter two because I knew for a fact that even if I die trying, I wouldn’t be able to come even close to liking their music. I didn’t have a problem with rap music or anything, in fact I loved Eminem. But these two were just plain lewd.

  So that leaves out the first two . . . that was the day I started listening to heavy metal. And never stopped.

  Ronit added four photos of himself on FB that night, but I couldn’t comment. Thanks to Avi.

  So I sent him a Message instead.

  Vatsala: Loved the pics you uploaded today . . . Couldn’t comment there, I told you about Avi . . .

  He’ll make my life hell if I do :(

  Ronit: But I miss your comments! ;) Grrr :x

  Vatsala: Hahaha :D But this guy . . . He’s my cousin . . . won’t let me flirt openly. . . .

  Ronit: I can so kick him out ;)

  For the uninformed, if Ronit removes Avi from his friend list, Avi would no longer be able to open Ronit’s Photos and thus won’t be able to see my Comments.

  Vatsala: Thanks, but no . . . he’s okay. I can handle him, I guess!

  I can compliment you on your photos here if you want!

  Ronit: I want them there! :(

  I clear my inbox every few days! :P

  Vatsala: Gosh! You really are stubborn! :P

  Ronit: See? Told ya! :P

  Vatsala: Hehe! Okay, fine . . . I’ll comment when I login tomorrow . . . off to sleep now . . .

  Good night :)

  Ronit: ‘Night :D

  I didn’t Comment on his Photos right away to keep something for the next day. Now that I’d decided to woo the guy, I had to plan every move intelligently.

  Gosh! I sounded like some vamp from one of those God-awful soap operas. (Not Pavitra Rishta, though. It was kind of cool!)

  That night, Akansha asked me, ‘What do you guys talk about?’ After that, I started sending the entire Chats I had with Ronit to her as Messages on FB. Whoever invented copy-paste was a genius!

  And it was around that time too, that I stopped clearing my Inbox. Those Messages were too precious to let me hit Delete.

  Akansha also asked me for my cell phone number. I gave it to her. Logging into Facebook every time we wanted to talk was such a hassle. Exchanging numbers seemed like a reasonable option.

  I didn’t tell Jaanvi or Ankit about it though; I could only imagine their reactions . . . ‘Are you sure it’s a gir
l? Ever heard of the term fake profile? Don’t complain if you start getting calls and messages from unknown numbers . . .’

  They were such adults, I tell you!

  One of the adults called.

  “Hey!” I said.

  “Come outside,” Jaanvi shrieked into the phone.

  “Why are you shouting?”

  “Because I’m excited!” The pitch of her voice didn’t lower by the slightest notch.

  “Don’t tell me you had sex with Nilaap.”

  “What?”

  “Oh . . . nothing . . . you were so excited . . . so I thought . . .” Why did I always have to speak my mind?

  “Moron! No we didn’t,” she giggled. She giggled. When did she start doing that? I hated girly girls. Giggling should be banned!

  “What happened?” I was outside by then.

  “I have something to show you.” She wasn’t starry eyed this time. And there wasn’t a big ugly stuffed animal in the backseat of her car. I was relieved.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Get in the car, silly,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She was acting very weird. She had been overexcited when she told me that she was going out with Nilaap and starry eyed when they’d kissed. Twelve times. (God! I couldn’t get that thought off my mind!)

  What now? What did the excessive giggling mean?

  I didn’t have to wait too long to find out. When I got into the car, she pulled down the neckline of her T-shirt to reveal a reddish-blue bruise.

  “OH MY GOD! What happened?” I screamed. It didn’t make sense; Jaanvi was all excited and giggly and the reason was a hideous blue blotch? Had she totally lost it?

  “Nothing happened! It’s a hickey, you dumbass!”

  “Hickey?”

  “Love bite! Where have you been living? Don’t you know anything?”

  “I know what hickey means. I was just . . .” I had been wondering how on earth would Ronit be able to give me a hickey online.

  I didn’t tell Jaanvi that, of course. She would’ve had me admitted to RINPAS (Ranchi Institute of Neuro-Psychiatry & Allied Sciences); the mental hospital Ranchi was so famous all over India for.

  Now that I come to think of it, I should’ve admitted myself into it. I was in need of some intense mental therapy.

  Jaanvi wasn’t in a much better mental state either. For reasons beyond me, she asked me to click pictures of her precious hickey. She was making very odd expressions, so I cut her face off the photos I took, focussing just at the hickey.