I do not write to intend this as a novel [or a story for that matter]… This was how my story was supposed to begin. Before anything else, let me be very clear that in this blog post, all forms of interrogative, inquisitive comments are strictly proscribed by the author [which is none other than me]. Colloquially, no How-What-Where-Why-Who et al. Bromidic as it may sound, but all this which is about to follow in italics is purely a work of authors abjectly rich imagination. Ergo, even the slightest resemblance with any person living/dead is [un]fortunately coincidental.
So without any further delay, let’s get going with it.
I do not write to intend this as a novel, but sometimes the need to communicate gets all transcending and utterly primordial. And this [almost] carnal desire to communicate is the raison d’atre for this present fable. I’ll begin from the beginning.
The entire engineering fraternity [The reader is hereby pleaded to take note of the word ‘fraternity’ with full heed. The author has used this with utmost deliberation, carefully shunning ‘sorority’ for reasons which will get obvious as he reaches towards the fag end of this sentence.] is notorious for it’s obsession with fairer sex – and sex, to be more specific- mostly because of their [it’s] sheer paucity in this profession. Sequestering all the chronic contentions, allow me to take you all to a point which is important here without giving you -and me- the sweetly indulging and obviously titillating luxury of digression.
I never lost my virginity. I knew exactly what I did with it. And this is an unabashed [albeit, an honest and carefully non-vulgar] account of what I did.
The first time I had a girlfriend, I didn’t even touch her. We barely met. The fling was primarily on phone. I thought lust is for animals. Love is something which is pure. And hence, it can’t be intermingled with love. How insanely stupid must I’ve been back then; and what a bitch must she have been to dump me for someone else!
The world hadn’t seen much sunlight before I was into another [even more] serious relationship [if possible!]. I was fast this time. We held hands! And that was pretty much it. But before things got really serious, we kinda broke up. That, or we were on an indefinite break. Whatever! Implies the same. I didn’t even try for anything before I was into my third super-serious relationship. The only difference being that I was much more relaxed and nonchalant about all the ‘relationship’ stuff this time. I was kinda ‘been-there-done-situation’. Irrelevant, perhaps. Boisterous, definitely. Also, I moved to the ‘next’ level too. But as it turned out to be, the girl was too ethical. ‘No ding-dong before you sing a song’. What the fuck! I can’t marry at 21! I mean I legally can, but pragmatically I won’t. And this gave me my smoothest break-up ever.
By this time, I was done with girls. Not forever, but yes, for the time being. I strived to strengthen my male bonding [in an absolutely non-gay way]. I paid attention to academics. Tried improving my grades, with little or no success in the long run. That was a period of self-abnegation, for no fucking good reason. If you subtract the word ‘good’ from the last sentence, I think it’d have described my situation more aptly. To put it most simply, I was just not being me. This was unacceptable. And un-natural. I knew I had to revert back to my old ways. Sooner or later. And sooner, I did. I was back doing what I do best. Well, definitely it wasn’t ‘the best’ coz had it been that, I wouldn’t have been…
Now I’m the kind of guy who learns from his mistakes, as well as from other’s mistakes. And I never repeat the same mistake. I really take utmost care so as it won’t get repeated. But the problem with me is that I get so engrossed in avoiding the previous one that I just am not able to foresee an unprecedented one coming. To sum it up, I never repeat a previous mistake; I always do a brand new one. Why did I tell all this will be apparent in a matter of few lines.
I was careful enough not to have my fourth girl as one of the previous three. Now I honestly don’t know how many species of human females exist on this planet at any given point of time. I think that number will be highly debatable. Anyway, that’s not what I’m here for. All I knew by now was those previous three were not of my type. Therefore, this one should be of completely different type altogether. Fair Enough. I started praying for a nymphomaniac in morning/evening prayer. Oh, before that, I started having morning/evening prayers. And as Paolo Coelho says, if you really desire for something, the entire universe conspires for you to get it. And get her, I did. But then, as the saying goes ‘Be Careful for what you wish, coz you might just get it all, and then some you don’t want’; and I wished for too much. I realized it pretty soon. But not soon enough to mend myself. Redemption was right there, but the correct path is not easy and sins are always tempting. Taking the higher moral and literal ground -like all great authors do- our author here too won’t get into the gory details of the act. Suffice is to say that on a very hot Sunday afternoon, in an air-conditioned room, with no electricity, amidst seas of sweat, I lost something to gain everything.
Right then, I had what alcoholics call as ‘moment of clarity’. And in that moment, what ranged in my head was this. ‘Women are stupid. But if women weren’t stupid, the world won’t go round’.
One of the novelties of being human beings is that we can almost never do what we set out to do.
And that was how the story was supposed to end. It didn’t make much sense to me though. It might make sense to some of you. There is also a tini-tiny problem. What I feel is that this [the fiction] might be offensive to some feminist kinda people. Now I don’t have particularly anything against them, but then I’m also not too fond of them. So in case you’re one of them, I do apologize sincerely.
Cellar Door 