by Nikita Singh
“Same here.”
Right at that moment, I understood what Jaanvi had meant when she’d said – quite cockily, at that – “You’re in deep shit.”
Chat-22
Lipstick
November 22nd, 2010
For reasons I can’t explain, I found myself at Ankit’s doorsteps early the next morning. (Early by my standards, it was 10 o’ clock!) I had even taken bath and combed my hair, which is an effort, if you’re talking about me, especially on a cold winter morning.
“We’re not going to college today,” I announced as soon as he opened the door.
“I wasn’t going anyway. I told you yesterday, remember?”
“What? When?” I and my shitty memory!
“I’m taking CAT in six days.”
“Oh yeah! I forgot. I’m so sorry I disturbed you,” I said and turned on my heels to leave.
“Hey, a few minutes won’t hurt . . . and it isn’t as if I study 24 hours a day . . . I wouldn’t have started so soon anyway . . .” he gave excuses to make me stay.
He wanted me there, with him.
I smiled, “As if you even need to study. You’ll get calls from all the IIMs.”
“I wish it were up to you!”
“Why aren’t you in college?” Rohan, Ankit’s younger brother asked.
“Why aren’t you in school?” I shot back.
His hand flew to his belly, “My stomach hurts.” He mocked. He wasn’t that young; he studied in ninth standard.
“We totally believe you,” I laughed.
He came closer and whispered, “Have plans with girlfriend.”
“I figured.”
“Hey, give me your phone,” he said.
“Give me your PSP.”
We exchanged gadgets. Playing Angry Birds on PSP using analogue button was a welcome change after the touch screen of my iPhone got monotonous. (You already know that I own an iPhone, so this doesn’t count as bragging!)
I sat with Ankit in his room for about an hour as he tried to study and as I tried to break Rohan’s high scores. When I realised that we both were failing terribly, I took my leave.
Not before having the mouth-watering breakfast his mother prepared, though.
Ankit was busy preparing for CAT and so was Jaanvi. Though she wasn’t serious about MBA, she had applied and had received an admit card, so taking the test seemed the sensible option.
Not for me. When have I done a sensible thing in my life anyway?
I had decided against MBA, so I considered taking CAT a waste of my time.
I used the all-important, precious time spamming on Facebook.
Ronit had added a new Album, to his Profile, having ten new Photos of him. Ten. I got my time pass!
I posted a senseless Comment on one picture:
Vatsala: Smarty pants!
:P ;)
Sometime later, Akansha commented on the same Photo (after I promptly sent her an SMS informing her about the new addition to Ronit’s Albums).
Akansha: Looking so sweet . . . n your lips, why are they so pink?! :P
Vatsala: Hush, it’s a secret!
Not anymore: it’s lipstick re!
I’ve noticed in so many pics :P :P
Not that I could’ve missed it, with Avi reminding me of ‘The Gay Guy you like’ every time we talked!
Akansha: Haha, don’t tell me Vatsala . . . but which brand? I want it ;)
Vatsala: Ask him, I don’t know his favourite lipstick brand!
My favourite is Revlon!
:P :P
Ronit: Grrrrr . . .
Both Akansha and I Liked Ronit’s comment.
Vatsala: Chill ;)
We’re both-like-your biggest fans EVER, so you know we’re just kidding! :P :D
And anyway, they’re your lips . . .
You can apply whatever brand of whatever you want! Who are we to complain!? :P
Akansha: Hahaha, yeah Ronit, we were just kidding!
But I really wanted to know the brand. Haha :D
And then we discussed lipstick brands a little. Not that I was a lipstick person, but I did own quite a few. Relatives abroad.
Vatsala: God! We’re crazy, aren’t we? ;)
Akansha: Haha yeah Vatsala, discussing lipstick brand . . . yes we are HELL CRAZY!!
Some unknown boy had started to interfere in our conversation. And yes, he sent me a Friend Request, which I promptly ignored.
Vatsala: So let’s take the discussion elsewhere, Akansha.
I’ll text you :)
Akansha: ;))
I had no idea why some guys send Friend Requests to random girls. All the info my Profile gave to strangers was – Vatsala Rathore, Female and a Display Picture. I’d set my DP as the cover page of a novel, Betrayed. So what was it about my Profile that was so enticing?
I didn’t realise my name itself was such powerful “friend” magnet!
Chat-23
Dreams & Plans
November 24th, 2010
Everybody was doing something about their future. Ankit’s future was decided, Jaanvi was trying to decide and here I was, stuck with a dream of becoming a VJ, with no idea whatsoever how to go about it.
Was there some kind of an audition? Do I just get up and go to Mumbai and start auditioning for random shows on random TV channels? Was there a course? Or do I have to get into Roadies or Splitsvilla (Yuck!) or the kind?
I waited for thirty hours for Ronit to come online. Usually, he’s online almost all the time, but whenever I needed him, it seemed like he disappeared off the face of the earth.
Vatsala: Hey! :)
Ronit: Hi!!
Vatsala: Where have you been?
Ronit: Busy with stuff . . .
He replied vaguely, which was fine by me. I wasn’t in a mood to talk about him that day. My career plan, or rather the loss of it, was bothering me. But frankly, majority of our conversations did revolve around him. It was like we were always talking about him.
Vatsala: Listen, tell me something . . .
How did you become a VJ?
Ronit: Just got lucky to be noticed, I guess!
:D
Aargh! Couldn’t he be a little more specific?
Vatsala: Noticed, where?
Ronit: By someone at my radio station . . .
I was working part-time as an RJ at HOT FM . . .
Vatsala: Part-time with?
Ronit: Mass comm.
Vatsala: Oh, great!
“Mass Communication. That’s what I’m going to do,” I said aloud. It took me just a couple of microseconds to decide. It couldn’t have taken any longer, considering I worshipped him so. He was like God to me.
I’d take up a Mass comm. course at a good college in Mumbai and find a job as an RJ. Then I’ll get noticed too, and I’ll be offered job as a VJ. For MTV. It was settled.
Now all I needed to do was search good colleges in Mumbai that offered Mass comm. (Master’s degree) and find out their admission procedures.
My phone ringed. “Hey Jaanvi!”
“This is so bad!” she sounded very low, almost tearful.
“What is so bad?” I asked.
“This. Studying. I can’t do this,” her voice broke.
“Hey, come on! Relax. It’ll be okay.” That’s what friends say when their friend is undergoing exam mania.
“No, it won’t. I’m hopeless! Why am I even trying?”
“Shut up! Don’t think like that. Study with a cool mind.”
“Study what?”
“You don’t have the material? Ask Ankit—”
“I have the study material, but there’s too much to study . . . too little time . . . what’s the use?”
“Clearing CAT isn’t about memorising the study material the coaching classes design. If your Maths and English—”
“Shut up!” She cut me off. “Don’t feed me bullshit.”
; “Want me to come over?” I asked slowly.
“ASAP.”
I was there in half an hour. We went out to our favourite stall for pani-puri. It worked, Jaanvi was much calmer by the time we got back to her place.
“You know, it doesn’t matter either way,” I said.
“What?”
“Even if you get a good B-School, I don’t think you should pursue MBA. You hate studying BBA, but do it just for the sake of getting a graduation degree. But that done, I don’t think you should take up a PG course that doesn’t suit you either.”
“I know that. I’ve thought about it too. But what do I do then? You know that if I don’t take up a course as an excuse to run away to another city, my parents will marry me off.”
“Don’t be such a kid! They won’t do that without your consent.”
“Yes, they won’t. But they’ll pressurise me till I . . . till I give in . . . to the temptation.”
“Temptation? You WANT TO get married?”
“Sometimes I do . . . ,” she grinned sheepishly. “But I’m sure, if I stay here, they’ll recount the many virtues of marriage so many times that—”
“So that is your motivation for opting for MBA?”
“More or less, yeah.”
“You’re almost as crazy as I am,” I said, shaking my head.
“So now I’m a certified lunatic?” she asked.
“Oh yeah! You sure are!” We laughed.
I called Ankit later that night to discover that he was doing pretty well. Amongst the three of us, he was the only one whose dreams and plans were going in sync. I envied him.
Chat-24
Lovesick Crack-head
November 28th, 2010
With the decision of my future final and Jaanvi’s test finally done with (though it didn’t go all that well at all) we were back to being the girls that we were just a couple of months ago. She had even forgiven Ronit for stealing my heart for a minute. And at that minute, she was back to being smitten by Ronit, too.
“It must be odd, na?”
“What?” I asked.
“Having your worst fear as – Waking up to find that Ronit deleted his Facebook Account!”
“Shut up!”
“No really. My worst fear is still Ghost Lizards!”
“Why did you have to mention that?” I groaned.
Ghost Lizards. There were only two things in the world that I was scared of. One was Ghosts and the other was Lizards. Imagine their combination. They made appearances in my dreams and terrified me to the bones, especially if they had long tongues. Bifurcated at the tip, red in colour. They made a sound every time they thrust their tongues out and suck it back in. I knew such a lizard did not exist, but in my dreams, they did. The most hideous combination of Geckos, Iguanas, Chameleons and Skinks, possessing ghostly powers to top all that . . .
There wasn’t a scene scarier than a lizard hunting and eating a pathetic little insect. I didn’t want to be that insect. I didn’t want to be a lizard’s prey.
Yet, the prospect of waking up to find Ronit’s FB Account missing was way scarier than Ghost Lizards. No contact with Ronit ever? I was positive I would’ve died.
Given an option, I would’ve preferred being attacked by a lizard. Singular, mind you. (I’d have to rethink if the number of lizards was more than one! That didn’t mean I loved Ronit any less, though!)
“Hey, he’s online,” Jaanvi exclaimed.
“He’s online almost all the time.”
“I want to chat with him. I’ve never done it before,” she said and logged into her FB Account. Sadly for her, no matter how many messages she sent, Ronit didn’t acknowledge any of them with a reply. “What is wrong with this guy?” she let out in frustration.
“He doesn’t reply to everyone!” I said and as a proof, sent him a Message from my Account. He replied almost instantaneously. Thank God! He didn’t let me down when I had audience!
Vatsala: Hey there!
Ronit: Hi!
Jaanvi snatched my laptop away and said, “I’ll chat with him today. Let me see how you fell for him so badly.”
“No way! You’ll ruin everything.” I protested but she paid no heed.
“Let’s see if he passes the test.”
“What test?”
Vatsala: Mumbai is bad :(
Ronit: Why?
Vatsala: I arrived here just this morning and already the cussing and swearing . . .
Ronit: Why so?
“Is he dumb or what?” Jaanvi wondered aloud.
Vatsala: Arey, I wasn’t the one doing it! I was talking about the people here . . .
Ronit: Ohh! That way . . .
“He doesn’t care about you. He didn’t ask Why? Or What happened? or the like,” she announced.
Vatsala: When are you getting here?
Ronit: 5th Dec
Vatsala: Oh Crap! I’ll be back home before you come! :(
Ronit: No worries! Some other time, I’m sure :D
“See? He’s looking forward to meet me sometime,” I smirked.
“He said that just because it seemed like an appropriate response.”
“Your judgement is biased.”
“Okay, I allow him a point. The score is one all.”
“Score?” I asked but she ignored me.
Vatsala: Hmmm . . . don’t watch Break Ke Baad. Horrible movie :(
Ronit: I didn’t even know such a movie existed!
“What? And he’s an actor? 2-1.”
Vatsala: It does. You watched HP 7?
Ronit: Now what’s that?
“This is bad,” Jaanvi whispered.
Vatsala: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part-1
Ronit: OHH! No, I haven’t!
“He’s not a Potter fan,” I justified.
“Let’s see . . .”
Vatsala: Oh, right. You’re not a Potter fan . . . figures . . .
Ronit: I do watch the movies though!
“He hasn’t read HP books and he accepts he’s not a Potter fan. 3-1.”
“Not everyone has to like what you like.”
Vatsala: Heard Sheila Ki Jawaani?
Ronit: Actually, I did!
“Thank God! He’s not living in some different planet, at least. He gets a point. 3-2.”
Vatsala: Sheila or Munni?
Ronit: Sheila ;) ;)
“3-3,” Jaanvi allowed. We both loathed the Munni song with all our hearts. Apart from being cheap and vulgar, it also made fun of Amitabh Bachchan. Unacceptable. Unforgivable.
Though, if we consider the lyrics, figuring out the meaning of the Sheila Ki Jawaani never failed to give me a headache either.
Vatsala: Ok, answer in one word: Brad Pitt, Hugh Jackman or Robert Pattinson?
Ronit: Pitt.
“Awesome! 3-4!” I cheered. One thing in common, without my intelligent plotting!
Vatsala: Done.
Ronit: What?
“What?” I asked Jaanvi. She didn’t answer. I could’ve killed her for the next thing she did.
Vatsala: Deciding for a poster! For my . . . er . . . washroom!!!
“ARE YOU INSANE?” I was exasperated.
Ronit: OHH! :P :P
His reaction calmed me a little. “He gets a point for this,” I decided. “3-5.”
Vatsala: Your photos have made it to in-between-pages of my Cosmos! :P :P
“Why did you say that?” I asked. I had no idea what got into Jaanvi that day. Maybe you lose your screws somewhere when you talk to a celebrity for the first time. [And just so you know, I did not have any printed photograph of Ronit. Hell, I didn’t even have any saved in my laptop! I mean – sure, I loved him and everything – but if I had to fantasise about someone, holding a picture of him in my hand, why wouldn’t I go for someone like Tom Cruise instead?]
Ronit: What!? No! You’re just kidding! :P :P
Vatsala: I’m not . . . :-*
You can know it was Jaanvi typing because I always say ‘I ain’t�
� instead of ‘I’m not.’ I like the word ain’t. And I totally hate that people always misuse it.
Ronit: *flattered*
“Humble. 3-6,” I announced. And then we entered the part where we did some heavy praising and buttering and he just shrugged it all away, acting modestly. It was his forte. He didn’t let success get to his head. We gained several points there, to my intense pleasure!
“I give up. This guy is solid,” Jaanvi said, quite in awe of him.
“That’s why I love him!” I proudly announced. That was the moment when I realised that what I had with Ronit was real. Whatever had been happening with Ankit in the past few days didn’t make sense to me, but I convinced myself that it wasn’t love. It was Ronit I loved.
“Oh rats! Four missed calls from Nilaap!” Jaanvi said. “And he’s not receiving now. What do I do?”
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m alien to all this stuff!”
“Ask your love.”
“What?”
Vatsala: What do I do if I pissed off a guy real bad?
Ronit: Give him some time off, I guess!
“Your love is a jackass. Nilaap is angry because I didn’t pay proper attention to him and I give him time off?”
“How was Ronit supposed to know?” I mumbled in his defence.
“He could’ve asked. And see, he’s offline now. Means you were bothering him.”
“You were bothering him.”
“He didn’t know that, did he? Anyway, I should go now. Nilaap is . . .” she trailed off.
“Yeah, go. Kiss and make up! And do some serious snogging!”
“Ciao.” She winked and left.
I sat there, wondering . . . Ronit had said ‘give him some time off’ and had gone offline quite abruptly after that. Was there a hidden meaning behind the seemingly simple suggestion? Did he mean he needed some time off? Or had he simply logged out?
Whatever the case, I decided to give him some time off.
I was head over heels in love with him. But he didn’t need to be reminded of that all the time.
Chat-25
Bring Me Flowers
November 30th, 2010
The last day of the month brought along with it a storm of unidentified emotions. I felt things I wasn’t sure I even had the ability to feel.
The day started with Ronit going back to his unresponsive self, even though he was the one who started conversation in the first place.