Okay da. This is a silent entry. No welcome required. I forgive you.
Why am I do it now? If I did not do it 5 years ago?
Good Question. I will answer on the next line.
I am doing this because one of my one and only loyal reader of my blog who insisted I should write again. I am dedicating this post especially to you, Loyal Reader. You are also very sweet and nice and think I am a good writer. Perhaps, after reading this post you will change your mind.
Dai. Others. Yeah, I am talking to you only- all those sloths, loving mothers, caring daughters, amazing son of the guns and whoever read my post and never commented. I am NOT doing it for you. You will all rot in hell someday.
I must also tell you, there is this spammer person who is creatively spamming in the comment section. To him- You are ruthlessly creative da. And people like you restore balance. I wish you will also rot in hell someday.
Even Director Rajamouli wouldn’t have spent this much time writing the script for Bahubali 2. He just took three and half years to make the movie. And I took 5 years to write this sequel.
Clearly, I am not Rajamouli. I work during the day, sometimes even in the night also (such a hard worker you know). Therefore, I decided a 3 part conclusion, and publish it based on your Loyal comments. (Loyal Reader, I’m talking to you only). Others, at least comment on this post ra, or I will poke the voodoo doll- you know where.
If you've forgotten, in the last post, I ended saying " she said something interesting that I will tell you in the next post".
Varsha Thekaperambil was the girl. Even I forgot how she was looking. All I remember is her hand smelled deliciously flavored with Gongura Mutton. ( 5 years. Even though I am lying, it is the truth)
So sniffing my hand, I looked at her face, and her curious eyes and I broad-casted the waves of Telepathy communicating “Paradise Biryani Pointe, eh?”
She relayed back “No. Keep quiet. I’m dieting according to my friends”.
Breaking the awkward moment, Varsha asked me “ what do you smell, Sherlock?”
I replied, " Fresh Breeze. More like Oxygen. Fire Hazard"
She giggled and asked me, “Are you suffocating, Arjun??”
“Not unless you’re close to me” Within a flash of a second, I held her hand again, looked into her eyes. Blurring out the cringing faces of her friends, I smiled.
“What are you doing, Arjun?”, she asked
I replied, “Resisting, Varsha”
"Resisting what?", she questioned again with a wink.
I normally perform well in a high-pressure situation like this Sometimes, I don't. I'm also normal human being, Okay? But don't get ideas, I don't rumble bullshit like most of you. I simply stare at their eyes and give an irrelevant answer, but relevant to the situation.
I said, " Your Eyes. My Words." ( See how simple it is)
“Where do you get these ideas from?”, Varsha asked.
“If a girl is normally pretty, I wouldn’t do this, Varsha. You should know. “, I countered.
“Take off your hand from me, Arjun, everyone is watching “, She smiled again
“I’m not holding it anymore, but I will, coffee tomorrow at Sandy’s 2 pm?”
She reverted back: In your Dreams. Arjun. In your Dreams.!!
“Tonight 8pm”, I said
She blushed. I smiled.
My sessions of watching a copious amount of soap operas, hopeless romantic movies is helping. I wanted to advance before her flocks stole her away from me.. but I became a victim…
You see girl parade in armies. The reason is evolutionary. Back In those days, when the monkey man was climbing trees, some clueless perverted monkey fuckers tried to take advantage of the situation. Being the bravest of the tribe, girls started ganging up on those monkey fuckers by gobbling up verbal abuses or kick on their ball sacks to defend themselves.
Some million thousand years fast forward… Present world scenario. Despite having evolutionary advantage of communicating better, there are some residual genes that make most of the monkey fuckers still ruthless monkey fuckers. In a nightclub settings, after imbibing alcohol in industrious quantities, these monkeys try to perform the mating dance. That moment these fuckers attempt to grab the lady of their interest by her hips and start dancing, you will notice an army defending the lady
Because these perverted motherfuckers, DO NOT JUST DANCE, they want to practice all the 64 positions of Kama Sutra. Because of these bad boys, good boys like me are losing reputation. They will also better rot in hell with Donald Gump president.
Though I am capable of consuming industrious quantities of alcohol, I can maintain my sunny disposition. It all comes through the strong practice of yoga, controlling mind over body skills I learned from watching Jackie Chan movie- The Forbidden Kingdom.
Even though I did not do anything crazy of that sorts, her army escorted away from me. So I shouted: Should I ask our common friend for your number?
I wasn’t wearing glasses that day. But I clearly noticed one of the hands rising aloft of the crowd pointing a finger at me (not the finger you are thinking). It was a thumbs- up. And that hand was familiar to me.
So enough is enough.. stopping here, rest I will tell you later.
PS: NO ONE GAVE ME HER NUMBER THAT DAY. THE COMMON FRIEND DITCHED ME. SHE WILL ROT IN INFERNO.
