tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26539930226329744902024-03-13T04:49:42.824+05:30Just Read Outankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-48337873449564580792012-09-16T22:37:00.000+05:302013-09-12T23:20:32.821+05:30Winds of Change<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Radhika
sat beside the edge of the roof-top food court in her office, gazing at the
road five floors below her. This was her favorite place in her office, though
the security had warned her not to sit there. Her colleagues also teased her
quite often if she had any plans to commit suicide. She loved the place and more
importantly, she loved the weather in Bangalore and this was the best place to
feel magic of winds. This magic was something unknown to most people in
Bangalore who spent most of their day in air conditioned offices and if at all
they were out, all they saw was traffic and pollution. She considered herself
very lucky to have discovered that place.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_hEFxJjRfaXbErIFXqz3evrtl0f1YIbq2YyT6cVMqbCexJvbEKt_ItmrUfsLpgglikTKMzMOukcoEWwzVeC41llr9tONm3CxFbZYRMVgCBC3dh_heUG9u7DL4KmXp8la3IgSMEeHNIX3/s1600/girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_hEFxJjRfaXbErIFXqz3evrtl0f1YIbq2YyT6cVMqbCexJvbEKt_ItmrUfsLpgglikTKMzMOukcoEWwzVeC41llr9tONm3CxFbZYRMVgCBC3dh_heUG9u7DL4KmXp8la3IgSMEeHNIX3/s200/girl.jpg" width="200" /></a>Sipping on a cup of hot latte, she saw people roaming
around, enjoying the rain. She cursed her luck for being in office and thought
she’ll leave after fixing the only defect remaining. More over the next day was
her birthday. She wanted to groom herself for the day. Life had been revolving
around defects since she’d chosen the profession. Being a software engineer was
not as easy as it seemed, especially when you work for a Chinese organization.
She thought, her birthday might be a tiny slit of relief for her. </div>
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With a hope to enjoy the rain, she rushed back to her seat.
She wanted to complete the work as soon as possible. Suddenly, her hands seemed
to be dancing vigorously on the keyboard. Her fingers were ecstatic and were
hitting the keyboard hard. She was rushing through the code. Just
when she was about to resolve the defect, she got one more and then there was a
flurry of defects. She just cursed herself for choosing a Chinese company but
then this was what she wanted. The whole day passed in bug fixing, mails and
check-ins. It was already ten when she boarded the cab.</div>
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Once again, she reached home a
few minutes past eleven in the night. It was almost her routine since she had
joined the organization. After Nishi got transferred to Noida, she was alone in
that 1BHK apartment. Nishi was her best friend and in fact the only good friend
she made in Bangalore. Earlier she thought that staying alone was going to be
tough and looked for some appropriate roommate but never got one. Now she was
quite accustomed to the loneliness and it was also never easy for girls to
share a room with someone.</div>
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She took out a slice of bread from the fridge and gave it an
obnoxious look. The piece was rock hard, more like a cookie. Firstly she
thought of heating it but then she didn't have enough patience and energy to
switch on the microwave and wait. She directly applied some cheese spread on it
and went to bed. She remembered her previous birthday when Nishi was with her.
She had called all their friends for a surprise party. As soon as she cut the
cake, snow was sprayed wildly on her from all directions. The quantity of snow
was so much that even the cake was not spared and was made inedible. It looked
as if another layer of cream was accumulated over the cake. But then who wanted
to eat the cake? So, it was applied all over her body. They had celebrated for
the whole night.</div>
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Today, it was totally different. A cold and dry piece of
bread was all that she ate. Friends might beat the hell out of you and do all
kinds of stupid stuff on your birthday, but it’s much more painful when there
are no friends with you. She lied down on her bed and looked at her cell phone
which showed “23:43.”</div>
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“Another 17 minutes to go,” she told herself. More than
Nishi, she missed Gaurav who dumped her nearly 3 years ago after an affair
which lasted for all four years of their engineering. She pretended to hate him
from the bottom of her heart but only she knew how much she still loved him. He
always used to call her at 11:30 and used to keep talking till 12, in order to
be the first one to wish her. In fact, that was the only time when he himself
called her otherwise it was always Radhika who called him. Managing finances is
always a tough task for college students especially the phone recharge.
Radhika’s father was a Class-1 government officer and was earning a lot, black
as well as white. She knew that Gaurav’s father was going through rough patch
in his business, so she always acted as an understanding girl friend but even
then, he left her. </div>
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Nishi always told her that he was cheat and used her for
money, status and even for her body but she would never listen. Radhika, being
the best looking girl in their class was one of the most sought after girls in
the whole college where as Gaurav was just an ordinary guy who became popular
after he was seen roaming around with Radhika. She had thought about it a several
times but still, it was too hard to believe. For her, Gaurav was never a guy who
could use someone, and especially her. It was just that he was over-ambitious and was ready to sacrifice anyone and anything for
it. Radhika was just one sacrifice he made for his career and went to US for
some research telling her that she didn't fit in his life. That was a simple
end of the relation for him and Radhika’s thoughts and wishes didn't mean
anything to him.</div>
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His last words still echoed in her mind and still filled
her eyes like a pool of tears. They never talked to each other after that day.
She looked at the watch which read 00:05. It was her birthday and surprisingly
there was no call. Even Nishi didn't call her this time. She kept sobbing and
there was no one who really cared. She was all alone in the apartment, and had wept
her pillow wet. It was the worst birthday of her life, she thought.</div>
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To Be Continued...
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ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-8700879971867375702012-09-16T00:47:00.002+05:302012-09-16T01:43:20.980+05:30TRUST !!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfVdOitZm7MmELTA_BXsrxLE3IiHtQ9nknU26BA4SOumt8HBFNeQzxIEox-YHQn0ajG6Fn-SE0IXk5x0r-vA0Y5_rIG1CXMCfU8Nk1iR7-esTHECgjm_3DhGiyXUTI5WxbQ_3BFSLr4UB/s1600/1223116355774.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfVdOitZm7MmELTA_BXsrxLE3IiHtQ9nknU26BA4SOumt8HBFNeQzxIEox-YHQn0ajG6Fn-SE0IXk5x0r-vA0Y5_rIG1CXMCfU8Nk1iR7-esTHECgjm_3DhGiyXUTI5WxbQ_3BFSLr4UB/s1600/1223116355774.jpg" /></a>Last evening, I was walking through the Marathahalli market in Bangalore and suddenly a very old lady(seemed to be in her 60s) came to me. She spoke something in Kannada and handed a slip to me which was a prescription given by some doctor. She again spoke something but I couldn't understand what she was trying to say. Then, some passer by(who himself was an old man) came for rescue and explained me that she wanted these medicines but had no money. I was disturbed but at the same time cautious because I'd already encountered a lot of frauds who would just make any sort of excuses to get some money from you. I'm basically among those who would never shell out even a single penny to beggars but here, she didn't look like one. The way she spoke to me, she looked quite humble and genuine.<br />
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I wanted to help her but I didn't want to give her money just because it promotes beggary. So, I took her to a chemist shop and ordered the medicines written on that slip. I bought them and handed over to her. I felt happy and satisfied but that old lady didn't seem thankful. Anyway, it didn't matter to me. I think if you help someone, you do it to please yourself not for the person being helped and believe me, I was pleased. I get a strange sense of achievement when I help someone, especially old people. I think we should be thankful to God that he made us good enough to help someone.<br />
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We again got busy in shopping and after around half an hour, I was on the same road and saw that lady again. I was shocked. She was talking to some girl. Then the same old man, who told me what she wanted, went to her and explained something. I couldn't hear because they were at a distance. That girl took out a 100 Rs note and handed over to that lady. She blessed her and passed away.<br />
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I was too shocked to say something. I just didn't care and moved on. I again thought, if you help someone, you do it to please yourself not for the person being helped. I don't know what circumstances would have forced her to cheat someone at such an age. It was the first time in my life that I was cheated and I didn't mind. May God bless that old lady.<br />
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</div>ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-82112643137086773372012-03-16T23:56:00.003+05:302012-03-17T22:17:36.261+05:30Sachin Tendulkar, you lost my respect today...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">It was way back in 1989, when I saw a cricketer being hit by a ball on his face and was bleeding. I had no idea what cricket was, or who was hit or by whom, in fact I didn’t even know how to spell the word “cricket.” I heard my elder cousins and uncles discussing that this guy would be taken to hospital but just after sometime all of them were shocked when they heard that this kid will continue batting. They were amazed, though I didn’t have much idea about the event. I was just six years old then, but I still remember my uncle’s words: </div><div class="MsoNormal">“waah bai waah... munda te sher aa... eh ni jaanda kite...”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP409hmMth4CbnJFdkBZD0GWDwy3GAghy75IG53UDcfVaEGtqWW9UEP5ptjxhenGv2t2NQojUN9D5lBQgpF9s5jdS4dI32j30WmI-69P6BD8v3IpjcrWXk1IWBC-FyxqoZ53TNGTqB3BQr/s1600/Sachin-Tendulkar-records.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP409hmMth4CbnJFdkBZD0GWDwy3GAghy75IG53UDcfVaEGtqWW9UEP5ptjxhenGv2t2NQojUN9D5lBQgpF9s5jdS4dI32j30WmI-69P6BD8v3IpjcrWXk1IWBC-FyxqoZ53TNGTqB3BQr/s320/Sachin-Tendulkar-records.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That was my first encounter with the legendary Sachin Tendulkar. Generally we forget such incidents easily, but when I look back, I still have the dim memories of that scene. I just couldn’t forget it and I think that’s why I’ve been a huge fan of this man since last 22 years. </div><div class="MsoNormal">After that incident, I grew up and this legend grew up too. We saw him scoring his first hundred in England and we saw him scoring that great century in WACA when all the greats of our team failed against the might of bowlers like McDermott and Reiffel. Players came and went, but he stood there, and we watched him. I really don’t know when he created a special place in our hearts.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then the time came when it was certain that if he fails, the whole team will fail. We became so used to his success that every time he didn’t score a hundred, we assumed it to be his failure. The whole nation had one slogan: “Cricket is Religion and Sachin is God.” He became undoubtedly the most respected cricketer of the world. He kept on breaking records, scoring centuries, double centuries and most importantly, playing well and wining matches for us. Finally, the day come when our team was holding the world cup and he was still there, one among them. We loved him for that and the whole country dedicated it to him.</div><div class="MsoNormal">But today, I wonder if that love and respect that we all have for this great man, has to do anything with his records? Wouldn’t have we loved him the same way even if he would've ended up with 99 international hundreds? would his service to the nation have affected if he didn't score his hundred today? Are these records above the game? Is a hundred more important the victory? Do we watch cricket for figures? </div><div class="MsoNormal">I don’t know about others but I don’t. I’ve always wanted him to play well, whether he ends up getting a hundred or not. Sir Don Bradman is still considered as the greatest batsman ever even though he ended up with a career average of 99.94. Did that average took anything away from Sir Don? No way! I think apart from Indian media, there was no one who was so eager about his so called “Maha-shatak.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">But Mr. Sachin Tendulkar, I must tell you that after being your fan for 22 years, I don’t respect you anymore. I was very happy to see you playing well today and the six you hit was amazing. But I still cannot digest that you took 40 balls to complete the last 22 runs of your century which you otherwise would have done in 15 balls. I had always been fighting against your critics and thankfully, I always had a lot of points in your favour. But today, I really don’t know what to say. It was not a knock for the country but just for reaching a landmark. It is a blunder which would have got unnoticed if India would have won but unluckily for you, we lost. Thanks to the great bowling performances in the depth overs.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anyway, congrats to you for your great record because it is records what matter, much more than winning the matches. But I won't remember this as one of the greatest days in the history of Indian cricket, which it would have been otherwise.</div></div>ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-69136900822634666092011-05-02T23:39:00.003+05:302011-05-03T00:00:42.487+05:30Main Kahaan hu ????<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Surjeet Singh was born and brought up in Seeto, a small town on the edge of Punjab, adjoining the borders of Pakistan , Haryana and Rajasthan. I would say it is the town where Punjab ends and therefore this town suffers a lot as far as growth is concerned despite of its fertile land and high per capita income.<br />
<br />
Anyway, coming back to Surjeet, He had never visited any city in his life and was still very innocent. The biggest city he knew was Bhatinda, which I don't think can be considered as a city at all. That time, Surjeet had to travel to Chandigarh for some important work, alone. He hired a cab and left.<br />
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On the way, he came to know that the driver was a Muslim, named Hassan. Surjeet had never ever met any Muslim in his life so he was excited but at the same time a bit afraid. After the partition of Punjab in 1947, Punjabis are a bit skeptic about Muslims. <br />
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The first thought that came to Surjeet’s mind was Pakistan. He was afraid that what if that Muslim kidnaps and takes him to Pakistan. On the way, he tried to verify if he was on the right way but he couldn't, since he had never travelled much. His restlessness was increasing due to those dire thoughts but he didn’t want the driver to observe his fear. Terrified, he somehow managed to sleep.<br />
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After a few hours, he woke up and observed that he was in a city. He looked around and noticed something after which he was absolutely stunned. His fear came out to be true. He was in Pakistan. He didn't know what to do, so he held the driver from his neck and asked him to stop to stop the car.<br />
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Even the driver was stunned that what happened to this guy. When driver asked him, Surjeet pointed towards the people standing on the traffic signal. This is what he had actually noticed:<br />
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All the girls had covered their faces with some sort of clothes, nothing less than a burka. Their hands were covered with gloves and they had worn some kind of an overcoat (generally a men's shirt) over their dress. They had literally covered their whole body- every single inch. :)<br />
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The driver then laughed and said, "Welcome to Chandigarh sir. This is how the girls dress up in summers here."<br />
<br />
:):):)</span></div></div>ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-6900856368426974732010-11-07T23:14:00.002+05:302010-11-07T23:18:16.524+05:30Weird to the core<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">It was the night before my JEE 101 certification(Infy's internal java certification). I was discussing about fundas of java and C++ with my roomie, who happens to be a C++ developer. In fact I'm the only java guy among all my flat mates.<br />
<br />
Then, that night I planned to go to a pub with all my flatmates. While entering the the pub, the bouncer asked us about our address. They all told the address since they were C++ programmers and I being a java developer didn't know my address. I was very upset since the bouncer wasn't allowing me to enter. Then my roomie, Sunny wrote a code in C and then we used native method call to find the address of a java object ie. me. <br />
Finally we entered. We drank a lot and had a lot of fun. Then one of my flatmates puked and turn by turn everyone puked and they scattered the garbage all around but what ever was I scattering was getting disappeared. I was happy because I was a java object and had automatic garbage collection. <br />
<br />
***********</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">That's the weirdest dream i've ever seen. I guess it was due to over dose of studying and technical discussions. But yeah, I cleared my certification.. ;)</span>ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-87732945329980244232010-10-23T00:55:00.003+05:302013-02-20T13:05:15.435+05:30Girls Are Stupid !!! (Part-5)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://justreadout.blogspot.com/2010/10/girls-are-stupid-part-3.html" style="color: #cc3300; text-decoration: none;">Part - 3 (Click to read)</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://justreadout.blogspot.com/2010/10/girls-are-stupid-part-4.html" style="color: #cc3300; text-decoration: none;">Part - 4 (Click to read)</a></span></span></div>
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“I wish you had fried chicken.” I said, facing that hostess and passed a taunting smile to Shivali, “... something of KFC sort.”<br />
“No sir, even I wish that,” replied the lady, smiling “… but a chicken sandwich is all we have.” She broadened her plastic smile.<br />
“No-no… Thanks a lot.” I said, winking at Shivali. At last, she sighed and her eyes brightened just like Jerry did after an unsuccessful chase by Tom, if you remember Tom and Jerry. But yeah, I don’t understand why these veggies hate us so much.<br />
The plane landed. We were standing near the conveyer belt to get our bags.<br />
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2653993022632974490&postID=8773294532998024423" name="cutid1"></a><br />
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“You know what, Gaurav?” she said. <br />
“What?” I asked, curious as she had already came up with some strange things whenever she called me like that.<br />
“You are a nice guy.” She said, smiling. I don’t know from which part of her brain this thought came up but why did she have to tell that. I could feel something wrong somewhere (daal-mein-kala). I know I’m a nice guy, I felt like shouting that. <br />
“Oh thanks…,” I replied smiling back, “and you are a sweet girl.”<br />
“Sweet or stupid?” she winked.<br />
“Both.” I laughed.<br />
“I knew… I knew… you have been thinking that.” She too laughed.<br />
“What?” I asked with suspicion.<br />
“Yeah…,” she laughed more, “Ok, tell me one thing.”<br />
“What thing?” I asked, surprised at her enigmatic laugh.<br />
“Do you know about Aranya?”<br />
“Aranya? Who’s she?” I asked, more baffled.<br />
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“Oh come on… at least you should know about it quite well.” She said as if Aranya was some girl whom I’d ditched. I really didn’t know whom was she talking about. I had never ever known any girl called as Aranya. Yeah, I do know Ananya, the lead character of Chetan Bhagat’s 2-States. <br />
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“I really don’t know yaar.” I said, frustrated.<br />
“Hmmm… Might be…” she said, “that might have been a small thing in your life.” Now I was beginning to get irritated.<br />
“Hey please. Don’t test my patience. Come up now. What are you talking about?”<br />
“Wait…” she said, laughing again.<br />
“Why the hell should I wait.” I shouted, much more irritated now.<br />
“Because my bag has arrived.” She said, picking up her bag from the conveyer belt. I gave an embarrassed look and stepped back.<br />
“Oh… Anyway, now tell. Who is Aranya?” I hissed. She laughed again.<br />
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“Who nahi, what kaho. I’m talking about the tech fest, dumbo.” She said. I don’t understand why these girls love this word dumbo a lot but yeah, I was completely taken aback. This girl had really surprised me. Aranya was the name of the tech-fest which was organized by our college and I had always been a major part of it.<br />
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“What are you trying to say.” I asked, trying to hold my nerves.<br />
“That you have a very poor memory.” She retorted.<br />
“Means?” I asked. I wondered if I really sounded dumb.<br />
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“Means that I know you are from Thapar Institue and… I remember that you were SPOC for computer science events.” I had no words at all. “And you… you don’t even remember who ate your brain the most during over-night programming contest.” She said, still laughing. I was still stunned. I was in a misconception that I had been fooling her for a long time but truth was totally opposite. I was embarrassed to the core. <br />
According to what she said, there was only one girl who was coming to me every now and then and she even won the contest but this girl, she never looked like her. <br />
“You mean you were in the winning team?” I asked, just to confirm.<br />
“Yes…” she replied proudly.<br />
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“But that girl… she was… I mean… you are… I mean… you can’t be that.” I didn’t know how to express that the girl she was talking about was sort of ugly and very irritating, especially her boy-cut hairstyle. I simply hate that but she, she was quite good looking. In simple words, she was HOT!<br />
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“Now, I’m not getting you.” She said. At last, I confused her too.<br />
“I mean you looked quite different that time.” Somehow I managed to say. She laughed again.<br />
“Yeah… Say directly that I look beautiful now.” <br />
“Hmmm. You do.” I blushed.<br />
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While all this chat, I forget that I was standing there to get my bag and when I realized, it had passed me but luckily, it didn’t reach the end. I sprinted towards the bag, jostling through the crowd gathered there and got all kinds of gestures from those people. I was lucky that that Sardar uncle didn’t come my way. Finally, I got hold of my bag just before it reached the end. I came back and stood near Shivali again, putting my bags onto a trolley.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 11pt;">"By the way, if you already knew me then what was all that drama for?" I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Come on, you are not Shahrukh khan that someone will see you once and immediately recognize you." She quipped.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Yeah..." I didn't know what to say.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 11pt;">"More over, I'm like that only." She winked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 11pt;">"<i>Oh te pata lag hi gaya.</i>" I said, rolling my eyes.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Gaurav, I still don’t know why you lied.” She said.<br />
“Soreeee. I was just enjoying it.” This time my sorry was longer than the one she said an hour ago.<br />
“Oh… Don’t be… even I enjoyed your company.” We both laughed.<br />
“Anyway, when are we meeting again.” I said when we just reached outside the airport building.<br />
“Aha… Someone is flirting.”<br />
“No... just asking. In the meanwhile, I’ll think of some new pranks.” <br />
“Keep thinking and do come up with some real good pranks. I’ll catch you on communicator.”<br />
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“Communicator?” I asked, shocked again. Did she mean yahoo messenger by communicator. No. Not possible. She’s not that fool, I thought.<br />
“Yes, communicator. Don’t worry… it’ll be the last shock. I’ve joined Finacle, Mysore and I do know what Finacle bags look like.” She laughed again and I shook my head once again as Finacle is my business unit and my bag had Finacle's logo on it.<br />
<br />
“Sure.” I laughed, on myself this time. This was all I could have done.<br />
“Anyway, bbye. I’ve to get a cab from there.” She said.<br />
“Hmmm… bye.” I said, giving her the way.<br />
“And yeah…” she said, turning back, “Stop thinking that girls are stupid. We are not.” She smiled. I smiled back and bid her adieu once again.<br />
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cant be sure of continuing.. ;)<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /> </span></div>
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ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-4003351880397205712010-10-21T22:55:00.000+05:302013-02-20T13:03:36.783+05:30Girls Are Stupid !!! (Part-4)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Why did you laugh?” She asked with a bit of anger, genuinely offended.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Nothing… Nothing… Actually my roomie works with Infosys.” I said. I didn’t want to tell her that I was an Infoscion. And thank god we don’t have Infosys logo on finacle bags.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Wow!”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Which Centre?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Centre? You mean IBU or DC?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“I mean which place? By the way, I don’t know what is DC or IPU.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Oh. You are a new joinee?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“No no… I’ve 2 months of experience.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Don’t tell me you don’t know what’s a DC or IBU… And yeah it is IBU not IPU, OK?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Hmmm. But what is it?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“DC means development center and IBU means Industry Business Unit.” I replied with frustration oozing out.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2653993022632974490" name="12bcf4701ff33482_cutid1" style="color: #0000cc;"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Ohhhh. I never knew it,” she said, giving an idiotic smile.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“But how’s that possible? I mean you must know your own unit, right?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Actually, I’m under training.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Oh…” I laughed. So, she considers training as experience- cool.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“What?” she asked inquisitively, showing her hands.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“You are not experienced ma’am.” I replied, still not able to stop laughing, “Your experience starts the day you join production… You must be in Mysore, right?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Haan… but tell me one thing, how do you know so much about my company?” she asked suspiciously. This time she caught me but I thought about it again, it was not tough to prank with her.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“I told you, right? My friend works with Infosys.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Oh. That’s what we were discussing na. You totally diverted the talk.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Me?” I asked.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Yeah, who else?” she said, as it was the most obvious thing of the world.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Fine.” I said in submission and she looked delighted on such an idiotic feat.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Hey, you didn’t tell me. Your friend is in which center?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“It’s not center, yaar.” I said, irritated.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Chal whatever… You understood na?” she asked.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Hmmm… he’s in Bangalore.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Oh.” She said, disappointed.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“What happened?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Nothing… I thought he was in Mysore.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“He was trained in Mysore only, but later he was posted to Bangalore.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“I see. He was from which stream?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Java.” I said so because I did my training in Java.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Oh wow! I also got java stream.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“You want his phone number?” I asked.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“No no…” she blushed taking her eyes down into the ground.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“But you are talking as if you were really very interested.” I laughed.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Aiwe ee… Actually no use.” she said, laughing.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“No use… why?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“He is in Bangalore na.” she said, making a sad face.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“So?” I asked, perplexed.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Oho budhu… if he’d have been in Mysore, he’d have taught me na.” she said, very confidently.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“And how are you so confident that he would have taught you?” I asked inquisitively.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Arey main cheez hi aisi hu…” she said, holding the collar of her top. I’m not sure what she’d have held if she was wearing a top without a collar. But the confidence, it was as if she was a master in this art. It surprised me once again. I reconsidered my thought that she was a stupid. She was not at all what I thought she was.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Hmmm. Jo bhi hai mast mast cheez hai.” I whispered, laughing in my mind.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“What?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Nothing… Nothing at all.” I replied.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“You said something.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“I said you are really smart.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“wo to main hu…” she winked.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">In the meanwhile, that air-hostess arrived again, but with a steward this time. I wonder whether these stewards also acted as eye-tonics for girls as those hostesses are for guys. God knows or these girls know. While I was drowned into my thoughts, I didn’t realize that my eyes were fixed on that hostess.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">“Another chicken sandwich, Sir?” she asked, waving her hand, with what I think was an embarrassed smile probably because of my ha-ha-main-tujhe-kha-jaunga stare. I think even she knew me quite well, like everyone else on board. Thanks to the impression created by Shivali.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">I was still deciding whether to buy it or not when shivali gave me a fierce stare and said, “Now don’t dare eat that chicken sandwich in front of me.” It was not a normal request. In fact, it was not a request at all. It was an order, an authoritative one. I shook my head again, smiling.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">to be continued..........</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><a href="http://justreadout.blogspot.in/2010/10/girls-are-stupid-part-5.html" target="_blank">Click To Read The Next Part...</a></span><br />
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ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-32577728258259898032010-10-01T00:01:00.000+05:302013-02-20T13:02:00.399+05:30Girls Are Stupid !!! (Part-3)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Now what?” I shouted at her, with a silencer on my mouth. I’m a typical Punjabi, and shouting is our default trait. Even if I speak normally, I never come to know when my volume reaches the threshold to be considered as a shout. But this time my ego was at stake. I didn’t want to give her any chance to show that I’m rude. I had to show her that she’s the only one who’s rude and insensible. The volume of my shout was low enough that the sound waves would have struggled to hit the ear drums of that Sardar uncle.<br />
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“Actually… I wanted to say… that I’m… I’m extremely sorry.” She choked while speaking, struggling to face me, leave apart looking into eyes. I guess, she was among the over pampered lot. But still, she knew that she had made a mistake which could have been a crime for me if we were at an appropriate place. But her face, it looked so cute that even a Supreme Court judge would have forgiven a murder charge. It definitely made me to forget what happened a few minutes ago, but how could I’ve missed a chance to show attitude?<br />
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“Oh come on. Don’t give me that... Have you ever imagined what everyone out here might have been thinking about me? Anyway, forget it... You won’t understand…” I replied and started looking towards the window.<br />
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“I understand… but you know what, I’m a pure vegetarian… and… and you can’t imagine how much I hate non-veg. We don’t even eat onion you know.” This time she looked nothing less than a 10 year old innocent girl. Now, I was damn sure that she was over pampered and wasn’t out of her parents’ shadows.<br />
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“Please… … I don’t give a damn if you don’t eat onion or stuff. How can you just… ” I fell short of words and to express my anger, I clenched my teeth and closed my fist. It was enough to frighten her. She was just about to say something when I abruptly spoke, “Forget it!” She was instantly silent. It was fun troubling her like that. I was enjoying it so much that I could have jumped in air if given a chance.<br />
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“See, I’m among those who have never ever touched any sort of non-veg stuff and you threw a piece on my face…” she sighed. “I must tell you that I was already feeling uncomfortable while you were eating that thing and when that piece fell on me out of nowhere, I was just sort of… shocked. If you don’t give a damn, I don’t give it either. I’m still talking to you means that I admit my mistake.” She finally took a breath. I was still wondering if she was asking me to forgive her. It was just like someone writing sorry on a brick and throwing it on you. She kept looking at me, expecting me to respond. But I was speechless. I was never taught how to respond to such sorries. Her husband must be a fire-fighter else that poor would be butchered by her, I thought. I still kept looking at her like a dumb idiot. After a few seconds she realized what went wrong.<br />
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“Was I rude again?” she asked, this time as innocently as a child. I think this girl was suffering from multiple personality syndrome, considering the pace with which she changed her way of talking. Or she was carrying some evil spirit in her? It reminded me the Vidya Balan of the Bollywood movie Bhool bhulayia. Or there were 2 modes in which she was operated: devil mode and angel mode.<br />
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“Hmmm,” I nodded. “Anyway, It’s ok but you shouldn’t have reacted like that. You didn’t realize but everyone out here thought I did something really very wrong with you… you know what I mean, right?”<br />
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“Yeah, I know… I’m sorreeeeee.” She said pouting her lips. This sorry was pushed a lot longer than the usual one. As soon as she finished her sorry, she looked down in embarrassment. Even I pretended to look towards the window but one eye was still on her. No one spoke for a couple of seconds till she came again, “By the way, I’m Shivali.”<br />
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“I’m Gaurav.” I replied, offering a handshake and she responded with a smile.<br />
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“Ohk. So Gaurav, you belong to Bangalore?” She asked. I must tell you that, I’m a typical Punjabi by looks. People guess it so easily that sometimes I doubt if it is written somewhere on my face but this girl, she completely changed my views about myself.<br />
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“Yeah. Naanu Kannadiga.” I said, in Punjabi accent. I think any one from Bangalore would have killed me after hearing such an accent, “Neenu?”<br />
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She looked embarrassed. “Actually Gaurav…” she looked down and then again looked up, “I’m quite new to South India, so I don’t know your language.” Oh God, she actually believed that I belonged to Karnataka.<br />
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“Oh. Where are you from?”<br />
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“I’m from Punjab.” She said. Oh My God! She belonged to Punjab and wasn’t able to indentify my Punjabi accent. I was shocked.<br />
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“Oh That’s wonderful. Which Place?” I asked. Obviously, I was curious to know which part of Punjab has produced such a master piece.<br />
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“Jallandhar, I don’t think you’d have heard of it.” She said confidently. I tried my level best to suppress my laugh.<br />
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“No no, I know. Its famous for sporting goods and all, right?”<br />
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“Yeah, absolutely correct. But how do you know?” She laughed with a special glow in her eyes.<br />
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“Actually, I have my colleague from there. There’s one NIT, right?”<br />
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“haan.”<br />
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“He graduated from there.”<br />
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“Oh wow! I’m also from NIT.” She almost jumped on her seat.<br />
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“Which year?” I asked. Such an idiot can’t be older than a first year girl, I thought.<br />
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“Which year? Do you think I’m a kid? I’m earning, Ok?” She said. Who would have hired this 20+ years old baby, I thought.<br />
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“Oh great. Which company?”<br />
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“Infosys.” She said proudly. This time I couldn't suppress my laugh.<br />
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to be continued ...<br />
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ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-52916025389278460652010-04-17T12:32:00.006+05:302013-02-20T12:56:10.172+05:30Girls Are Stupid !!! (Part-2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://justreadout.blogspot.com/2010/04/girls-are-stupid.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Part - 1</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> (click to read what happened in the previous episode.)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sandwich was horrible- cold and tasteless. I sometimes wonder why almost everyone buys the worthless food provided during the flight, may be because those pretty air-hostesses sell them and they just can't resist when those gorgeous ladies ask with so much of affection, pretentious though. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While folding the wrapper, somehow a tiny piece of the sandwich flew off the plastic and landed directly on the face of the girl, obviously the one sitting next to me. I must tell you that the piece was half the size of a rice grain but it was good enough to make her jump off her seat as if I had spilled a whole soup bowl over her clothes. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What the f***… are you mad or what?” she said, standing off her seat. It was good enough to grab the attention of everyone sitting around. And using the F-word so openly? Oh god, what is she, I thought. It was potentially the most embarrassing moment of my life. There is nothing more embarrassing than a girl shouting on you in public. I couldn’t dare to try getting up and face anyone else. Moreover, no one except me knew the reason why she stood up. I’m sure that everyone else must have been thinking that the girl would have been sleeping and this cheap guy would have tried to do something vulgar with her. Still, I thanked God that I was not in a Punjab or Haryana Roadways bus otherwise the next destination would have been a hospital. Even the guy sitting on the seat next to her, looked me with suspicion.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I… I…. am…. I’m sorry.” I replied raising my hands in submission, completely taken aback by the situation she created.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Don’t you know how to eat?” she hissed.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Oh… what happened beta ji?” asked some Sardarji sitting right behind us. He was middle aged uncle with a few extra pounds. I think few extra pounds would be an understatement. I would say hell lot of extra pounds. Even he was as old as my dad, but was certainly good enough to beat half a dozen guys like me and his stare, it was so damn frightening. I’m sure what would have been going in his mind.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’m sorry… and I was not eating. It just happened by chance. I’m very sorry.” I replied as soon as that uncle finished, sensing that she was not quite interested in replying him.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Nothing uncle. Its fine.” She said with an extremely artificial smile but thankfully, it was enough to make that uncle sit. I could still hear him muttering something to his wife, “eh aj kal je jwaak vi pata ni ki karde rehnde ne.”</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, she sat down, without even replying me. I didn’t mind and somehow just waited to land at Bangalore. I was already trembling, though un-noticeable for anyone around, especially that idiot. Yes, the girls are really idiots. I laughed at my thought of being lucky. God, I don’t want such luck ever again, I prayed. Again, I took my laptop and continued the same movie.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“A guy can never be just friends with a beautiful girl,” said Harry, in the movie. How true, I thought. And if the girls are as shrewd as this one, I don’t want anything else too. I paused the movie and closed my eyes, still thinking about the incident. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Excuse me.” I heard it again and now I could well recognize her voice. It was not directly hitting the irritation department of my brain. I again preferred not to reply but this time she looked quite desperate. I could sense her hand shaking my arm in order to wake me up. I was surprised. What the hell was this girl? I had to open my eyes. She was there, right in front of me eyes.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To be continued………….</span><br />
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<a href="http://justreadout.blogspot.in/2010/10/girls-are-stupid-part-3.html" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Click to read the next </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Part </span></a>....<br />
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ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-76586395645444201452010-04-12T21:37:00.004+05:302019-05-25T23:15:47.514+05:30Girls Are Stupid !!! (Part-1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzY5FLP1U46wsbHQPY4x0Oz7qYFBiKe7FiOLCS_3-dqBvsOxDr5haAAgO8D4K7TM0VAAvZhNTTkLQZkvAOyhJDoLs8lVujrPfyGmfz1qRSnmhKGy8EfheR3d1fcMVdJYBYm_IfL5UlLBB/s1600/girls_are_stupid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzY5FLP1U46wsbHQPY4x0Oz7qYFBiKe7FiOLCS_3-dqBvsOxDr5haAAgO8D4K7TM0VAAvZhNTTkLQZkvAOyhJDoLs8lVujrPfyGmfz1qRSnmhKGy8EfheR3d1fcMVdJYBYm_IfL5UlLBB/s1600/girls_are_stupid.jpg" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Basically, I'm not someone who hates girls. I don't even say they are </span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">stupid or something but sometimes you meet someone who changes your perception. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">By the end of this story you might get some idea about them.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> It happened when I returned from home this time. My flight was to take off at 6 in the evening from New Delhi domestic airport. After having a good time with my friends, I reached airport at around 5. I must tell you that it was scorching hot out there and you feel it even more if you live in a cooler place like Bangalore. To make it worse, the air conditioner of my friend's car(which has been parked in sunlight) was not working.</span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I somehow felt relieved when I entered the airport but still the relief wasn't for a good enough time as there was a long check-in queue. By the time I was finished, boarding had started. Again, in a hurry I boarded the plane. Mine was seat number 12F.</span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">All the frustration and the heat cooled down when I saw a girl sitting on 12E, the seat next to me. As in all the love stories, she was pretty. Just for confirmation, I checked the seat number once again. My luck has been very poor in such cases, so I had to confirm it. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yesss</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, I said to myself. She was going to be with me for the next 3 hours of the journey. </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> The plane took off and I started looking for the button to push my seat back. Then, I came to know that Go Air doesn't have push back seats or perhaps, it was not there in that particular plane. You get what you pay for, but it was a good enough chance to initiate the conversation, I thought.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “Excuse me,” I called her.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “Yeah?” she replied.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “Do you know where’s the push-back button? I’m not able to find it.” I said, with a restless look, moving my hand here and there on and around the seat.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “Oh. Even I was searching for the same,” she replied, with a formal smile, “...but couldn't. I don’t think it is there.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “Hmmm. Even I think the same. Go air it is; we get what we pay for... can't help.!” I remarked.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “Yeah. True.” She smiled. I smiled back. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We stopped talking and I pulled out my laptop from the bag. I started a movie with my ear plugs. I just gave a short glance at her and caught her watching the movie.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “You want?” I said, offering her a single ear plug, taking it out of my ear.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “No… No… Its fine.” She said, blushing.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “Fine,” I said, giving a smile.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Again, no one talked for quite a sometime. I kept myself busy with the movie. I saw </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When Harry Met Sally</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> for the first time and I never knew that </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Hum-Tum</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> was a inspired from it. How dumb of me, I thought. But yeah, the movie was well suited to the situation I was in.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">After sometime, along with sound of the movie I somehow felt someone saying, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">excuse-me</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. I guessed, it would be the same girl. I steered me eyes towards her with utmost care, slowly and steadily. My guess was right. It was she. Instead of replying and showing gratitude, I decided to show some attitude. I didn’t bother and kept watching the movie till I saw the air-hostess coming with the trolley. I removed the earplugs and closed the laptop. Finally, I looked at her and gave a smile. She smiled back but didn’t say anything.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The airhostess reached us and asked for something to eat. I ordered a chicken sandwich and a juice. She gave a stern look when I spoke the word </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">chicken</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. A typical vegetarian, I thought. She didn’t order anything. I finished but still had a thought running in my mind. Why did she call me that time? Did she want to watch the movie? Did she want to talk anything else? I had no clue and just cursed myself for it.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">to be continued...</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><a href="http://justreadout.blogspot.in/2010/04/girls-are-stupid-part-2.html">http://justreadout.blogspot.in/2010/04/girls-are-stupid-part-2.html</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "lucida grande";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">PS: written a story after a long long time.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="fb-comments" data-href="http://justreadout.blogspot.in/2010/04/girls-are-stupid.html" data-num-posts="10" data-width="470">
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ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-85890975629159098882009-06-06T01:13:00.002+05:302009-06-06T01:17:48.273+05:30one year of blogging.Hi..<br />this blog is one year old now. :)<br />Exactly one year ago, i started this blog with a story.<br />Though i'm not into blogging these days but still i remember the time when this blog used to be at its best.ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-66496394560611860242008-08-15T13:14:00.011+05:302013-02-20T13:53:36.054+05:30Ajeeb Dastaan....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I took my ticket and entered the bus. Mine was seat number 27. The next was still empty. I sat and got my self busy with a novel. After around five minutes, I heard a sound that was sweet and feminine but seemed to be very familiar.</div>
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“Excuse me. That seat is mine.” </div>
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I looked above. Even the face was familiar. It was Richa, a very old friend of mine. She used to be my grand senior during the first year of my graduation. We had never met after that. But we’d spent a very good time together. I got lost into reveries of that golden period of my life.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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My graduation days were simply incomparable. We (Sunny and me) always stayed together. The whole class of ours was quite dull, full of staid and dumb idiots. Since we were the only fun loving creatures, we had to be friends. It was as natural as the laws of gravity. Our friendship grew more intense during a trip in first year. On that trip, we were alone from the first year and all the seniors were busy enjoying in their groups. We tried to intrude into a couple of groups but we were not welcomed eagerly. The girls were few and boys didn’t want any sort of competition. And for a boy, a trip can’t be fun without any girl. It’s a fact. We tried our level best to enjoy among ourselves but how could we tolerate our seniors having fun. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Then Sunny’s eye caught one of our grand senior, Gopal. He was sitting alone with a couple of girls. And Sunny never missed chances. Within seconds he was away and sat with Gopal. I was surprised to see him totally engrossed in their talks. I thought of joining them but wasn’t able to gather enough courage. After every couple of minutes, Sunny looked at me and passed a taunting smile. Jealousy was creeping up in me. Adding more to it, Gopal got up from there and joined his male friends. Now Sunny was alone with them.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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After few minutes, one of those girls looked behind towards me. Then Sunny waved his hand signaling me to join them. Now it’s the time to go, I thought.</div>
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I went there and Sunny introduced me to them. They were Richa and Shreya. Both were good looking but to be very frank you can’t rate anyone gorgeous. They were quite simple but smart.</div>
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“Hey Abhinav,” called Richa.</div>
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“Yeah.” I replied.</div>
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“Sunny told that you know palmistry.” She said and within a flash of a second their hands were in front of me. You just need to signal these girls that someone knows something about palmistry or astrology; they would reach there within no time. But why did Sunny told that about me. I never wanted to be a babaji in front of them. I just hate him for that. But then I realized, that was the reason she looked behind at me and then asked Sunny to call. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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My palmistry increased the chemistry between us. We all were together for the whole trip. Sunny got close to Richa and me with Shreya. Shreya told me that even they too were alone from their class. They were also our grand seniors but from different branch. Gopal was the only one they knew among all in the trip. There on we enjoyed with them and they always maintained a distance which must be there between seniors and juniors. Then we went to an amusement park where we took rides together, we went for boating together, we ate together and even danced together. We got very close to each other with in no time. I’m not sure Richa and Sunny, but I and Shreya got really very close.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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After dinner we went for a movie. All were quite excited to see king Khan as Devdas. I sat with Shreya. Movie started and I was drowned deep into the ocean of dreams and don’t know what happened after that. Some loud grins and guffaws wake me up. I was surprised that Shreya’s head was on my shoulder and my head on her head. I rubbed my eyes and looked forward; both Richa and Sunny were standing right in front of us and laughing. It was quite embarrassing for me. And how embarrassed would she be, I thought. A girl found in that position with a grand junior; it might be funny for a guy. But for a girl, it is just a matter of ridicule.</div>
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“Oops… Sorry.” I said, looking into her eyes. She was perplexed but tried well enough to hide her embarrassment. </div>
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“Oh… it’s fine.” She replied and looked at Richa wrathfully, clenching her teeth. Richa was silent immediately. I wondered if Shreya was the Don among girls. We got up and went to our bus. This time I didn't sit with Sunny, but with Shreya. Now even our seniors looked at us with envy. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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The bus started and I looked back towards Sunny’s seat. Even he looked at me and we exchanged smiles. Returning from a trip with a girl sitting besides you; it is always looked upon as an achievement in the world of bachelors. I looked at Shreya; she gave me a cute smile. But that smile was authoritarian: a smile of a typical grand senior. I just thought for a minute, what if I have sex with her, she would lead the show instead of me. I just laughed on my thoughts. But then I thought that why would she lead. She’s senior according to academics but I would be senior to her in what I was thinking. Suddenly her voice brought me out of the amazing world of my thoughts.</div>
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“Abhinav… Abhinav…” She said, shaking my arm.</div>
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“Yeah. What happened?”</div>
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“Where are you lost?”</div>
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“Oh… No where… just looking at the lights on the hill.” I replied. How could she know what kind of light was I thinking of.</div>
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“Oh wow. They look awesome!” She said with mouth wide open. I don’t know whether to call these girls silly or sweet. But I don’t know how they get attracted and find happiness in such small things.</div>
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“Hey Shreya. You know what?”</div>
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“What?”</div>
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“You speak very sweetly but your voice sounds childish. I mean ... you understand right, as innocent as a small kid.”</div>
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“Yeah. Everybody says that… Didn’t you see me at Jhankaar?”</div>
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“Jhankaar? What’s that?”</div>
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“You don’t know Jhankaar? Amazing? That’s the inter year cultural fest.” She said as if she was talking about cricket world cup. How could a first year student know about a cultural fest which he has never seen? And how was her childish voice related to the fest? Only god knows how these girls relate things, I thought. </div>
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“But how’s your voice related to that?” I quizzed.</div>
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“Duffer… I’ve been the best singer of the institute for last two years.”</div>
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“What? I’m sitting with the best singer of the whole institute? That’s amazing! ”</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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After that I kept on insisting her to sing a song but she kept on refusing. Finally she agreed. It was raining heavily outside now and bus was moving very slowly. It looked as if the rain, the clouds, the road, the trees and the whole world was going to accompany her. She started:<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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“Ajeeb daastaan hai yeh<br />
Kahaan shuruu kahaan khatam<br />
Yeh manzilein hai kaun sii<br />
Na woh samajh sake na hum </div>
Yeh roshni ke saath kyun<br />
Dhuaan udha chiraag pe<br />
Yeh khwaab dekhthi hun main<br />
Ke jab paddi hun khwaab see <o:p></o:p><br />
Mubaarakein tumhein ke tum<br />
<st1:place>Kisi</st1:place> ke noor ho gaye<br />
Kisii ke jitne paas ho<br />
Ke sab se door ho gaye <o:p></o:p><br />
Kisii ka pyar leke tum<br />
Naya jahaan basaaoge<br />
Yeh shyaam jab bhi aayegi<br />
Tum hum ko yaad aaoge ”<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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When she ended, I was completely engrossed into it. I had heard that song a lot of times but it never sounded so beautiful. I was speechless, spellbound. I don’t know it was the situation, the time or her voice that created the magic, but what ever it was, the song sounded mellifluous like never before. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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I looked at her, she was waiting for a response but I was quiet. I didn't know what to say. Some things are so beautiful that any sort of praise seems trifle. But my expressions spoke well about the extent to which I liked the song. After that, the whole aura turned romantic. We discussed about each other’s love life, past affairs, crushes, likings and all. She told that all the guys she had in her life were not suitable for her. She wanted someone who was up to her standards such that she could respect him. That was quite reasonable for a girl, I thought. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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After the trip, the world seemed to have stopped for me. I was lost in her dreams, day in and day out. I feared talking to Sunny since he was prone to make fun of me. I spent my days in a hope to meet her. And if ever I met her, the day seemed to be lucky and on every meeting, we had a good time. I wished to talk to her every day but she didn't have a mobile phone. I often quizzed my self whether it was love or not, but I had no answer at all.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Days went on and time kept on flying. We used to meet twice or thrice a week at the maximum since we were in different departments and she was quite senior to me. Then after a long time I got chance to see her amply when the Jhankaar was on the cards. Since she was the Over All Coordinator, she was seen roaming around in the campus for various arrangements. I was really impressed by her work, and in fact every one was. She had a celebrity status in the institute. But what I liked the most in her was that despite of her status and her hectic life, she treated me very well. She never made me realize that I was junior to her and stood no where near her personality. </div>
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Her course was going to be over with in a few days. She was still the same for me. The song she sang in the bus still resonated in my mind. It was not an ordinary crush, but I was surely in love with her. She didn't have a mobile phone but I used to wait for her call every time. I had saved every phone numbers from which she had ever called me. But it really haunted me that she was going to be away within a few days. Time went on flying and it took her along with it. Her course was completed. She had left the institute for ever and was placed in a reputed IT company in Bangalore. I cried a lot. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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One day I was sitting in my room when Richa called me. It was only second or third time she had called me. She was someone who never called without any reason. This time the reason was strange, very strange. She told me that Shreya got a message from my mobile number which contained something very <span class="exa">contemptible</span>.</div>
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“What?” I asked. I was completely shocked as I had never messaged her and more over she didn't even has a mobile phone.</div>
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“You know it Abhinav. You sent that, not me.” </div>
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“But I never sent any message. And when did she buy a new phone?”</div>
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"As if you don't know, Abhinav. She got it <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">as a gift from the sponsors of Jhankar.</span>" She said.</div>
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"No way, Richa. I don't even have her number."</div>
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“Come on Abhinav didn’t you propose her?” She said very coolly but I was stunned. It really froze me. I knew, I never messaged her but the matter was that who messaged her if not me. I had never told anyone that I loved her so much. And moreover no one used my phone. Not even Sunny. </div>
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“Why would I message her, Richa... when there’s nothing like that.” I clarified.</div>
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“Did you give your phone to anyone?” </div>
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“No way. Why should I?”</div>
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“Not even to Sunny?”</div>
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“No!”</div>
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“Oh… I don’t know how it happened. Whether you messaged her or not but it is true that she got that message and it was from you. By the way tell me one thing.”</div>
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“What?”</div>
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“Do you like her?”</div>
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“Hey come on. Yes I do like her. She is a fantastic grand senior, very talented and a nice person at heart. I respect her more than I like her.” I said with full enthusiasm. </div>
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“Oh ho… Stupid… I didn’t ask in that sense. I meant, do you feel for her?” She asked. I don’t know why she was asking but she was true. But how could I have admitted. She would surely have made fun of me in front of Sunny. And moreover I never thought about it since I knew, I wasn't her choice. I didn't meet her standards. I preferred to deny and rightly so.</div>
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“What are you up to Richa? You people are my grand seniors. You know, for me, Shreya is the most respectable person in the whole institute. And you are talking like that.” I replied. Shreya would surely feel great to hear all that, I thought. We ended our talk after that. Richa never turned up again. And neither did Shreya. They went to Bangalore for job. After that incident I never had a talk with any of them. I always waited for her call but she never did. I searched her on facebook and orkut but she wasn’t there. Everything ended but still there was one big mystery in my mind. Who sent that message?</div>
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“Abhinav… Is that you?” The voice was same, but this time it was not a phone call. But it was Richa herself standing besides me in the bus asking for seat. Time had changed many things and also healed many things. It was more than two years since I had talked to Shreya. The feeling didn’t trouble me too much now but yes, I still missed her.</div>
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Richa was looking a lot sexier now. She had gained a few pounds of weight but it complemented her looks. She was also going to <st1:city><st1:place>Delhi</st1:place></st1:city>. We talked about many things about our college time and it was a great feeling meeting her after a long time and luckily our seats were together too. </div>
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“Hey you didn’t marry” </div>
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“Nooo. I wasn’t in any hurry like Shreya.”</div>
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“Like Shreya… means?”</div>
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“What can it mean stupid? She married. What else?” She said in her usual tone. I was shocked. Even if she was out of my life, even if I never thought of marrying her, even if I didn't deserve to marry her, I felt an excruciating pain: A pain of a broken heart.</div>
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“Oh, that’s great news.” I said, pretending to look as happy as I could.</div>
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“Yeah it is. This time she got someone much better than a foolish grand junior.”</div>
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“Foolish grand junior? I’m not getting at all what you are saying.”</div>
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“Yeah… You never understand anything. That’s why you are a fool.”</div>
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“Please tell me properly Richa. Please.”</div>
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“Oh yaar. I don’t know I should be telling this to you or not but she had a liking for you. But you! What to say? You are a typical mamma’s boy. You respect her, but you didn't love her. Huh.” She said. It was the biggest shock of my life, even bigger than the shock of her marriage. That feeling can never be expressed in words, never.</div>
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“And… what about that message which I sent?”</div>
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“Message which you sent...” She said in a very confused tone, “You sent some message?”</div>
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“You told me no, the last time you called.”</div>
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“Oh that message… You see that’s why I call you a fool.” She giggled, “She never got a message from you.”</div>
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That was enough for me. I just closed my eyes and drops began to trickle. The song again started resonating in my mind. Finally it ended with the line...</div>
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" Yeh shyaam jab bhi aayegi<br />
Tum hum ko yaad aaoge ”</div>
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ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-18010373325579955862008-07-27T01:25:00.002+05:302010-09-25T02:29:16.204+05:30A Fatal Fate: Inspired from a true story<div class="MsoNormal">“My name is Aditi and my ambition is to be an Astronaut,” Said Aditi during the introduction session on her first day in sixth class. The whole class looked at her with envy. She had been the topper of the class since she started her studies. Teachers used to say that this girl has a gifted brain and would rise very high some day. Her parents used to feel proud of the intelligence of their daughter. Their home was completely filled with the trophies she used to win year after year. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Her father was a narrow minded rich businessman of a small town but he was very serious about his daughter’s education. Since he was born in a family where all the females used to be illiterate, he wanted his daughter to be a graduate at least though he never knew what her ambition was. Actually living in a small town, one can not even imagine what she wanted to be. Time went on and Aditi kept being the number one every year. She never got any competition so she kept on breaking her own records every year. She had no idea what being second was like. She used be called by different names: computer, genius, Einstein and so on. It was like confirmed that she had a brilliant future ahead. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Now she was in tenth standard and was expected to set up a new record in the board exams. Exams came and she did what was expected of her. She got 93.8 percent marks, which was the all-time high in <st1:place>Punjab</st1:place> at that time. She was given a special honor by the MLA of that area. Her parents were extremely delighted because of that. She got huge amount of scholarships, awards and honors. She earned enough scholarships that she didn’t ask any money from her parents for anything.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> She got into college and collected all information about becoming an astronaut and came to know that road to become an astronaut starts from engineering. She was undoubtedly the favorite of every professor. Even those who didn’t teach her used to come specially to meet her. She again topped in 10+1 and that too with a huge margin of 19%. That means the person who got second rank was 19% behind her. Being in 10+2, she started preparing for IIT-JEE and other competitive exams and used to top comprehensively in each and every practice tests. No one from their town had been selected for any IIT ever. But she had a great hope and so did everyone else who knew the brilliance of her brain. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Finally the forms for IIT-JEE were out and she bought one happily. She went home and showed the form to her father with delight. She had her dream in her hand. She surely wanted to be the first one from her town to make it to IIT. </div><div class="MsoNormal">“What is it?” Her father asked.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“It is the form for IIT papa.” She replied.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“So… What to do with it?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“We’ve to fill it and send.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Then?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Then what… Then I’ll appear for the exam and if I clear, then I’ll go to IIT, the most prestigious institute in the whole country.” She replied with full enthusiasm. </div><div class="MsoNormal">He father laughed. He looked at her brother and here uncle who too were sitting there. Then they all laughed. </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Betaji, have you ever seen any girl among our kinsmen going out of the town to study?” Her father said, moving his fingers through her hair. Aditi was stunned. She had no words but she had to speak. She had to fulfill her dream and for that she had to speak. </div><div class="MsoNormal">“But papa…”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“You want to study na? I have no objection at all. You study as much as you want but we can’t send you out. That’s not allowed in family like ours.” Her father said, cutting her short.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“And bhaisahab, there are good colleges here also. She can study there. What’s wrong?” said her uncle.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Uncle you just be quiet. Ok. You didn’t even allow Meenu didi to complete her education. Was that an age to marry?” She shouted angrily.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Shut your mouth Aditi. Now you’ve forgotten how to talk to your elders? Just get the hell out of here.” Her father hissed, “And where’s that bloody form?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">He held that form and tore it off. </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Papa please… try to understand. There’s no engineering college in the whole town. And how can you compare any college with IIT?” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“What do you mean? You want to become an engineer? You want to work in a factory? Great… Now women from our family will work in factories. I’ll never let it happen till I’m alive. Do you understand that? Now get out of here.” He shouted.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Aditi went to her room and cried. That was the only thing she could do. What she had been dreaming since her childhood was to be just a dream. She was not even allowed to be an engineer and being an astronaut? One can’t even think of that. She kept on crying the whole night. Her father had torn the dream called as IIT into pieces. Even her mother didn’t support her. She felt very lonely. She went to her elder sister but even she suggested her to submit to the situation. Theirs was a completely male dominant family and females were only meant to stay at home and look after it. That was what they expected of Aditi. She left the tuitions and stopped studying.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Since her father was very powerful and a rigid personality, even the professors feared to talk anything about her. He was famous that he can beat anyone without any reason. So finally it was all over for her. She had no hope. Even her mindset was changing and she was learning various house hold activities such as cooking and all. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> One day she went to college and one of her professors motivated her that one should not submit himself to situations. There are times when one can’t even fight the situation but then he should try to get the most out of the situation. He suggested her to keep on working and to leave rest on God. She was really pleased to hear all that and started working hard as she used to. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Finally the 10+2 exams came. This time again she set a new record. She was 1<sup>st</sup> in the whole state by getting 95.3% marks. She got even more honor than she got after 10<sup>th</sup>. But this time her parents were not happy as they used to be. One afternoon she got a registered post. It was a letter from an institute called as BITS. It was the scholarship letter which said that she was being offered the admission in that institute and would go through the whole course free of cost. They would also provide free books as well as pocket money. She came to know it in the evening that BITS is the best private institute in the whole country and stands up to the standard of IITs. She was absolutely delighted. She had another ray of hope. Her dreams rose again like the phoenix. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Her father came home in the evening. Again the same drama took place at their home. Her father had the same answer. She could study as much as she wanted but only staying at home. Her second hope of becoming something also came to an end like the first one. There was nothing she could do. She submitted herself to her fate.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">************************************</div><div class="MsoNormal">It is not a true story but inspired from one.</div><div class="MsoNormal">This character, Aditi is based on one of my classmates. I admired her a lot. During all those years we were sick of teachers extolling about her. Now you must be curious that what happened to her.</div><div class="MsoNormal">After 10+2 ahe did B.Sc. , quite shocking, isn't it?</div><div class="MsoNormal">Even we were shocked. In fact everyone who knew her was. And then, she got a brilliant percentage in B.Sc. too.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now get ready for another shock..</div><div class="MsoNormal">After bsc she did PGDCA. and broke all the records of punjab university.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">PGDCA is a course meant for morons, not for a genius like her. So even the examiners were shocked to see the replies on the answer sheet. they were as good as, in fact better than engineers.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And after pgdca she started doing MCA, from IGNOU ie. indira gandhi national open university..<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">and before she completed it, she was married to a businessman in a small town like the one in which she lived. And at present she's a good house wife...</div><div class="MsoNormal">A Good House Wife...<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">**********************************************************************</div><div class="MsoNormal">I'm sharing this story with you all because I really wanted that girl to rise.</div><div class="MsoNormal">These are numerous such cases in India. So, please help me to spread this awareness among all, especially those who are from business background.<br />
Thinking of the business families is needed to grow.<br />
These people are truly wasting a lot of talent. If there's a boy, he's being forcibly put into business even if he wants to study further and if it is a girl then no education at all...</div><div class="MsoNormal">If we can't help gals like Aditi, we can see that we can decrease the number of such victims in coming future... please help me spreading awareness among all...</div><div class="MsoNormal">***********************************************************<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div>ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-65647875054895665772008-07-17T22:47:00.001+05:302010-10-19T00:56:46.557+05:30A shattered dream : another true story.<div class="MsoNormal">Satyam was new to the life of boarding schools and was not able to take bath and dress up quickly. As a result, today he was late again and was afraid that his teacher would hit him on his hand with a scale. He looked at his hands: soft, tender and pink in color like the hands of a typical seventh standard boy. Then he looked at his nails and cursed himself, he again forgot to cut them. He remembered his mom who used to cut his nails regularly but now he was alone. He wished he could run away from there but it was not possible as he was in a boarding school which was located on the hillside far from any city, town or even a village. Then he thought to hide himself in a toilet for the whole day but then he thought that he’ll have to come out of the toilet sooner or later. He was beginning to panic now. His heart was beating louder as the class was nearing.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> He stood in front of the door of the class with his eyes dug into the ground. The class teacher had already started the roll call. She didn’t notice him but murmurings and chuckles were getting louder in the class. Finally she noticed. Now the chuckles turned into guffaws. The whole class was laughing. The class teacher looked annoyed.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Come in you dumb. When you’ll learn to be on time? I don’t understand why these parents send such dumb heads to international schools like ours.” She Shouted and without warning smacked a tight slap on his face. Satyam started crying and covered his face with his hands. She straight away noticed his nails. Satyam had forgotten about his nails already otherwise he could have hid them from her. Teacher was boiling now and the whole class silent. The teacher took out the scale and this time she hit him on the nails. Satyam yelled. He had never felt such a pain ever in his life.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> His hands pained for the next few days. Actually he was physically very weak and even the smallest of injuries took long to recover. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> English lecture was going on. The teacher asked Satyam to read. He refused as he was poor in reading but teacher forced him to do. He agreed. He was not afraid to read but the only problem was that his classmates used to make fun of him while he read. He started to read. Everything went fine till the first paragraph ended. But he got struck after the first two words of the second paragraph. He was not being able to pronounce it. </div><div class="MsoNormal">“What happened? Carry on.” Said, the teacher.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Ma’am what is this word <i>hadaaaacke</i>… <i>hadaaache</i>… I’m not getting what is written.” He replied.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Where?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“The third word ma’am.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“What? Can’t you read it you dumb? It is headache. Just get the hell out of the class and let someone else read. You are hopeless. I can give you in written that people like you can’t do anything in your life. Tell your parents not to waste their money on you.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">The whole class laughed holding their stomachs. Satyam had really made a fool of himself. But he was hurt. He had tears in his eyes. He didn’t say anything and stood out of the class for the whole lecture. He was really ashamed of himself and wanted to improve. But there was no one to guide him but there were many to laugh. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Days went on and Satyam’s miserable life continued. One day the class teacher told them that they’ll have a story writing competition the very next day. Satyam was glad to hear that. He remembered the days of his previous school when he his writings were appreciated by all. The teachers praised him for his imagination. Actually being very introvert, he used to think a lot. Some of his friends even teased him as ‘philosopher’ but his teachers told him to take it as a compliment. He had even won many essay writing and story writing competitions in that school. And now he thought he had a good chance to prove himself in his new school. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> The day of the competition came. The topic was given and the bell rang. He wrote a very adventurous story. He was actually satisfied with what he had written. He knew that it was the only field in which he could prove himself. The results had to be declared the next day in the English lecture. He went to his hostel and had a very sound sleep after a long time. He had a hope now and that too after a long time. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">The day came. He waited for the result very eagerly. He could not think of anything else but the results. Every second seemed to him like an hour. Finally the English lecture started. The teacher came in. His heart started beating loudly. She announced the results. He held his breath after every name being announced but His name was not there. After congratulating the winners teacher came forward again.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Students, there is something more that I want to share with you people. There is some one in this class who don’t even know how to spell ‘these’. He writes it as ‘thease’. Do you want to know who he is? He’s the new comer Satyam. I couldn’t stop laughing when I looked at it. Call a second class kid, he’ll tell you how to spell ‘these’ but this seventh class fool doesn’t know and he participated in the competition. Huh.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> It was a shock for him. He was stunned. He couldn’t believe that he was not even in the top three and not even the fourth one who got the consolation prize. He was broken not knowing that his story was not even read. He cried the whole night and a few nights after that. His hopes were shattered. He was depressed to such an extent that he never wrote a story again. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div style="border-color: windowtext -moz-use-text-color; border-style: dotted none; border-width: 3pt medium; padding: 1pt 0in;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-65371969598200903342008-07-10T01:34:00.003+05:302008-07-10T15:13:58.576+05:30love u for ever : another true storyI tried to open my eyes. I’d never felt it so tough to open them. I applied all the force and the will power I had to pick my eyelids up and somehow managed to open. The view was very blurred that I couldn’t see anything properly. Slowly-slowly it became more lucid. I was shocked to see the view. I was lying on a hospital bed. How could I be in a hospital? All I remembered was that I had left for Delhi and was going in my car.<br /><br />And this hospital was so dirty. I had never been at such a dirty place ever in my life especially since last decade. Yeah, I was born in a very well to do family but since last 10 years I had multiplied my business certain folds. I was married now and had a couple of kids. But no one was here among my family members. I was really perplexed. There was no nurse either. I tried to get up but my body was numb. I couldn’t move.<br />“Anybody there?” I shouted. In fact I tried to shout.<br /><br />Listening to it the nurse came in running. She told me that I was in Panipat and brought here around 8 hours ago. I had a road accident and my cell phone was broken so they didn’t contact anyone. I gave her my wife’s contact number and they informed her. Nurse told that her duty is over and a new nurse would come now.<br /><br />The door opened. The new nurse came in. She was an old and thin lady evidently suffering from malnutrition, having prominent teeth, an ugly looking face with dark circles covering nearly half of it. Her eyes were deep and clearly depicted lack of sleep. Green colored suit she wore clearly looked as if she had altered a bigger one to fit her. I looked closely at her; she seemed to be someone known. I kept looking at her face and don’t know why even she was looking at my face the same way I did. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in delight. She raised her hand, pointing her index finger towards me and said, “Abhi… Is that you?”<br />Now I recognized. It was Mary. I was stunned and started reminiscing.<br /><br />12 YEARS AGO<br /><br />“Ruby aunty… Ruby aunty… Where are you?” I shouted, entering Ruby aunty’s home. Ruby aunty, our neighbor was an old lady around 60. I was very close to her and shared everything with her. Financially she was not as good as us but she was respected a lot by my parents. She was the most educated lady in the whole colony and was the only one who was very good in spoken English. I never used to ring the bell while entering but just used to shout her name and she used to come running. But this time she was no where. I went to see her in kitchen. Some one was there but couldn’t make out as I could only see her back, but it wasn’t ruby aunty.<br />“Hey! Who are you?” I hissed. <br /><br />She looked back. She was extremely beautiful: fair complexion, big eyes and bubbly cheeks. She was wearing a light green colored salwar kameez which looked extremely good on her. Over all it was a beautiful face over a beautiful body.<br />“Rather I should ask you this. Who the hell are you?” She replied.<br />“Shut up ok. You are a hell not me.” I had to say it. But I really cursed my self as how could I call her a hell, “And what are you doing at Ruby aunty’s home?”<br /><br />We were still arguing when ruby aunty came who told me that she was Maria, her niece who’d came from Kanpur and had to stay with her for around 15 days.<br />“How’s this possible Ruby aunty?” I said.<br />“Possible what?”<br />“i mean how can she be ur niece? She’s so beautiful and you are so ugly.” I commented. I really used to tease her over everything. We were more like friends. Bu this time this comment was a complement for someone and she was blushing.<br />“Yeah… but she doesn’t stay with me no, You come to my home everyday that’s why you are ugly.”<br />“Who says I’m ugly. I’m very charming. Just ask her.” I said pointing towards her.<br />“What do I know?” She said, blushing with her eyes down.<br /><br />Ruby aunty went to kitchen for coffee. We sat there and talked. I really felt something for her. Everything was so good about her. I wished if this chat could continue forever. We had coffee and I went to shop but she was still in my mind. I could feel the tantalizing aroma of her body everywhere. That day I couldn’t concentrate on my work. I went home early as I wanted to go to Ruby aunty’s home again.<br /><br />When I reached home, I was surprised to see something. She was sitting there, talking to my mom and bhabhi. Then bhabhi introduced her to me. We both did our second intro as if we were really meeting for the first time. There were smiles on faces of both. We again started talking like we did in the morning. She was a real chatterbox and was a fun to be with.<br /><br />The days went on. We became quite close to each other and surely developed a liking for each other but no one admitted yet. She was very close to my bhabhi and my mom too. My bhabhi used to tease me using her name every now and then and asked me if I liked her for marriage and I always denied but blushed. I was not sure but I could smell something of that sort going on in my parent’s mind.<br /><br />It was the marriage of my bhabhi’s brother the very next day. All went there except me because someone was needed to be at the shop. Since my childhood whenever I was alone at home I used to have my meals at Ruby aunty’s place. This time too, I came from shop and went to her home. It was Mary who cooked for me that night. After dinner we went to the terrace. Clouds were playing games with the moon, sometime covering it and sometimes going away from it, letting it to shower its sensational light on us. Her face used to glow whenever clouds were away from the moon. She was looking into my eyes keenly as if she was waiting to hear something from me. I knew what she wanted to hear but I never had said it to any girl ever in my life. I collected all my courage to tell her how much I loved. I took her hand in my hand and left. We talked about everything but love. Finally we came back, both upset.<br /><br />Next day I was not feeling well and came back from shop early. I just lied down and slept. I heard the door bell and she was there. She was shocked to find me in such a position. I had fever around 103 degrees. Even ruby aunty came and gave me medicine. Actually even she was not well and gave me that medicine which she had bought for her.<br />“Ok… Abhi, I shall leave now as even I’m not feeling well. You tell her if you need anything” Ruby aunty said.<br />“Ok aunty.” I replied and was happy that ruby aunty didn’t ask Mary to came along. I kept my head on mary’s lap and slept.<br /><br />I was still in the same position when I woke up: in her lap and she moving her fingers through my hair. I looked at her eyes. There was an enormous amount of love and passion in them. I brought her face closer to me and gave a gentle kiss on her lips. She looked in my eyes and smiled.<br />“I love you a lot Mary.” I don’t know how I got this courage. It might have been the situation or the affection that she had for me. What ever it was, all I know is that I proposed her.<br />“I love you too” she replied and it was she who kissed me this time. Our gentle kiss now grew more passionate. Our tongues were rolling through each other’s mouth. We were deeply in love. We made love the whole night. It is always a divine feeling to have it with some one you love the most. We were glad that we lost our virginity to each other.<br /><br />Next morning was special for us. Our love had reached a landmark. We were happy to wake up in each other’s arms, nude. Her sleepy face was looking so pious. The fever I had was completely disappeared.<br /><br />Suddenly there was a doorbell. It was Ruby aunty. She immediately perceived what happened last night. She scolded us but then agreed that we loved each other and blessed us. She knew that we were best suited for each others. In the afternoon, all came back from marriage. I told my bhabhi about my proposal and the night. She told my mom and they asked my dad about marriage but all were already aware of the girl and agreed immediately. We all were very happy about it. That night Ruby aunty and Mary came to our home for dinner. My mom gave her a gold chain as a kind of <span style="font-style: italic;">shagun</span>. She refused but took it when Ruby aunty asked her.<br /><br />Next day Mary’s father came to take her. My mom and brother went to meet him to talk about the marriage. We all were shocked when he declined the proposal. He said they were very rigid about the religion and didn’t want to go against it. We insisted him a lot but he wouldn’t listen. Even Ruby aunty tried her best but there was no effect on him. Finally when my dad went to talk to him, he got irritated and abused my dad. This was something intolerable for my family. Now even my family refused.<br /><br />It was all over. I never saw her again in my life. Even Ruby aunty expired a few days after that incident. I went into a trauma and didn’t recover till next few months. But life goes on.<br /><br /><br />PRESENT DAY<br /><br />Here I was, lying on the bed in front of the first love of my life. We both had tears in our eyes. But I was still shocked that how she became like that. How her face turned so ugly? I wanted to take her in my arms but wasn’t able to, as I was not able to move my body. Suddenly she went out and some other nurse came in. I was in that hospital for next couple of days but didn’t see her. Hospital management didn’t have any info about her as that was her first day as a temporary nurse. I searched her a lot but couldn’t find. I didn’t even tell my wife about that and in fact no one else. Still she’s in my heart and I still love her more than anyone else in this world. But the thing which troubles me the most is that she's in a miserable condition.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This story was told by one of my friends. Location, names, situation; all are imaginary but the theme is true just like my previous story... please read it and do comment..ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-62613383804139203902008-06-08T17:21:00.002+05:302013-09-28T23:36:30.135+05:30Once upon a time in infosys<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I was sitting on the footpath right outside my hostel building with all my bags packed, waiting for the cart which had to drop me till the gate of the Infosys campus in Mysore. Infosys is one of the better known software services companies in <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region> and its campus in <st1:city><st1:place>Mysore</st1:place></st1:city>, where all the fresh entrants are trained is considered to be the best in <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>. </div>
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I looked at the surroundings. Road was empty and there was no one around. All the trainees were attending classes as it was around eleven in the morning. A lovely breeze blew and I could see some birds frisking, frolicking and playing pranks with each other but I was alone. I was alone when all my friends were in the class. Now even the birds, the wind and the trees had started teasing me. </div>
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I couldn't resist myself from shedding another drop of tear although I’d been doing the same the whole last night. Of course, I was checking out but that was not the only reason for the tears. It was something much bigger than that and very much contemptible. I was not leaving the campus after completing my training but I had been expelled from the company. Or I can say, I was being thrown out. I felt like dying. </div>
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Then appeared the white colored cart coming from the road adjoining Food Court 2. The cart reminded me of my first day in the campus and took me into the past for sometime.</div>
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What a lovely evening that was? How excited I was, when I stepped into the heaven called as Mysore campus of Infosys for the first time and was completely engrossed with the thoughts of future that what I will do and how I’ll enjoy in the campus. First thing that came to my mind that day was to explore the campus and locate all those places I’d seen in those lovely photographs. I sat into the golf cart which took me through some long and winding but neat and clean roads. The first building I noticed was that football shaped spherical building which appeared behind the lush green cricket ground on the right side of the road. In fact that was the only building I’d seen before coming here but I was amazed to see a building on the left which was under construction. It was absolutely phenomenal and resembled the Colosseum of Rome. There was another one which resembled the White House but wasn’t white in color. Some guy in the Cart told that it is GEC or the Global Education Center where we’ll go through our training. </div>
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The cart stopped at a small building inside which there was a kind of a reception. We got our luggage checked and room was allotted. The guy who sat next to me in the cab was to be my room mate. His name was Varun and was a tall but slim guy from <st1:place>Punjab</st1:place> with a lot of beard on his face looked as if he’s not shaved since ages but that gave him a typical Punjabi personage. I thought, how someone like me from Gujarat will stay with such a guy who doesn't even bother to shave. Then we were sent to our hostel in another cart. We discovered that our hostel was nearest to FC2 and moreover, the hostel right next to us was a girl hostel. That Punjabi straight away planned to buy a new binocular so that he could easily peep into girls' rooms during night.</div>
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I opened the door of my room and could not believe my eyes. It was the best room I’d ever seen with my own eyes and was just exhilarated with the thought that I would be staying here for next few months though with some one who looked to be very unhygienic. But that was not a problem at all because like all the Punjabis, Varun was quite nice at heart. We kept our bags and explored the whole campus. We saw the lovely swimming pool, Gymnasium, Bowling alley, Market and a salon from where Varun got his beard trimmed, finally. </div>
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The classes started and we were made to sit in a big room having a huge white board with a couple of projector screens in the front and opposite to that were numerous seats, each having a separate computer system. I was made to sit in the third row and luckily between a couple of girls- both of them had just ordinary looks<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">though</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">. Later, I came to know that we were made to sit alphabetically when I got introduced to them. One was Ganmeet from </span><st1:place style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Punjab</st1:place><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> and the other was Geetha from Mangalore and sandwiched between them was me, Gaurav Keswani from Vadodra.</span></div>
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Both those girls were quite antithetical in their behavior, style, knowledge and everything they did. Where Ganmeet was quite simple, Geetha was stylish like all ultra-modern girls. Ganmeet was calm, composed and reserve but Geetha was dynamic and extrovert. And most importantly, Ganmeet was logically very sound and a very good programmer where as Geetha was a contrast in this matter too. I realized it when she asked me to debug her first C-language assignment. I was shocked to see the code. She had put the include statement within main. God, she was a B.Tech in computer science. But her cute and embarrassed smile was clearly accepting her weakness. I helped her and this became a routine. Within in no time we grew very close to each other. We used to have the meals together, we used to study together, we used to watch the movies together and we used to go out together. Our friendship grew more intense when she flunked in the first module test of C language but I got an ‘A’ grade and so did Ganmeet. But my roomy, Varun had also flunked. So, Geetha and Varun, both had to appear for the re-test. Everyday I used to teach them and made them to practice more and more. Now we were like a group. Four of us started staying together as Varun and Ganmeet, both being Punjabis grew very close to each other. Now instead of me, it was Ganmeet who taught him. </div>
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Then came the retest. I and Ganmeet were waiting for both of them outside the hall. Varun came out happily, clearly showing that he’d cleared and he did. Many came out but she was still in. I was getting worried as only I knew that the hopes were less. It was the last minute when she came out jumping and without speaking a word, threw her self on me and kissed on my cheeks. Many had seen but all knew what had happened. I was stunned and so were Varun and Ganmeet. It was obvious for a guy who never had any girl in his life and was kissed by a hot south Indian girl in front of whole batch. But she took it as a very normal thing and I pretended the same. </div>
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“Its all because of you Gaurav, that I’ve cleared it. Hats off to you sweetheart”, she said. </div>
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We were not into any sort of relationship but that’s how she used to call me and in fact all her close friends. But there was nothing wrong in it and I enjoyed it. We grew more and more close to each other. She took care of me in every sense: my dressing, my eating and what ever I did. She told me many things about gals which I’d never known.</div>
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On the next weekend she took me to <st1:city><st1:place>Bangalore</st1:place></st1:city> where she had done her engineering degree. We met many of her friends, my friends and went to famous markets and malls of the city. One thing I could say, she had a very happening friend circle. In the evening we went to a pub where both of us danced after gulping a couple of beer mugs. The dance grew more and more passionate with time. It was my first time in a pub but she was quite used to it. Next evening we left for <st1:city><st1:place>Mysore</st1:place></st1:city> which is a three hour journey from <st1:city><st1:place>Bangalore</st1:place></st1:city>. But there I’d spent the best weekend of my life. </div>
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On the way, we talked about everything on the earth. Then she kept her head on my shoulder and held me which I could say was half a hug. I just responded. I’d never sat like this with a girl ever in my life. Everything was so nice and tender. Time seemed like flying. I wished I could’ve been like this forever. I’d fallen in love with her. </div>
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“You know what Gaurav”, she said.</div>
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“What?” I asked.</div>
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“You remember that guy Raghav, whom we met in Garuda mall.”</div>
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“Yeah! Why?”</div>
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“We’ve been in love for last 3 years and yesterday we planned to marry.” she said shyly. </div>
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It was all over for me. Ground escaped underneath my feet. I just got away from her in a flash and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”</div>
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“I thought I’ll tell you after you meet him. I hope I wasn’t wrong?” </div>
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“No... You are right. Anyways Congrats” I said, sounding very low.</div>
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“Thanks.” She replied.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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No one spoke a word after that for next one hour. She was busy with her iPod and I was with my novel when suddenly she asked,” What happened Gaurav? Why are you so quiet?” </div>
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“Nothing”, I said.</div>
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She kept on asking again and again but I’d the same answer until she got irritated and said,” you are telling me or not?”</div>
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“Its of no use dear. You can’t do anything about it.” I said and rightly so. I loved her and she loved someone else whom she was going to marry.</div>
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“Well, let me make 3 guesses.” She said in a very naughty tone and I agreed.</div>
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“Ok. Hmmmmmmm. You didn’t enjoy with me at <st1:city><st1:place>Bangalore</st1:place></st1:city>?” she asked.</div>
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I shook my head straight away. Both of us knew that this wasn’t the reason. I thought she was just trying to change my mood.</div>
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“Thennnn... U didn’t like Raghav?” </div>
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Now she was coming to the point. This was somewhat the reason but not the exact one.</div>
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“Hey. He’s quite good yaar and both of u make a nice couple. And it’s your life; I don’t have to marry him. So, last guess now.” I replied.</div>
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“Then… you’ve a liking for me?” She said smiling.</div>
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I was caught. In fact clean bowled. She’d hit the bull eye. I turned red. I tried my level best to control my expressions and said,”No way yaar. I don’t like to call engaged nos.”</div>
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“Ohhhhh. Mr. Gaurav keswani think about it again.” </div>
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I had to admit it now. And this time she laughed. I asked the reason but again she laughed. I was perplexed at her enigmatic laugh. Finally she spoke.</div>
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“You know what my stupid.”</div>
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“What?” I inquired filled with curiosity.</div>
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“Raghav and I are just friends you dumbo.” </div>
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She broke into chuckles again. I was confused and even I’d started smiling now and finally started laughing with her.</div>
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This time I held her and said, “I love you Geetha... and a lot.” </div>
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“I love you too stupid. And had to do it because I knew you were not going to propose me easily” She replied.</div>
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We fell in each other’s arms and waited for our destination. Finally Geetha was mine. It was the happiest day of my life. We reached <st1:city><st1:place>Mysore</st1:place></st1:city> campus and again got busy into our same daily routine: attending the classes, completing assignments, studying in the class after dinner, going for long walks and kissing each other when ever we got chance. I always used to thank god for the life he’d given me. Module tests came and went. I kept on getting ‘A’ grades and she somehow managed to clear them. Both of us were quite happy. We made a few trips with Varun and Ganmeet to Ooty, Coorg and Mangalore which was Geetha’s home town. We met her parents there who were very humble but her little sister was naughty like her. </div>
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Now we had entered the last month of our training. Shortly we were going to have our comprehensive exam which was a mixture of all the modules which we’d studied so far. It also included a practical exam in which we’d to complete a project within 3 hours and it was the toughest thing especially for someone like Geetha. The day for compre came. All of us cleared it but Geetha. Both of us were very depressed. Now she’d to appear for it again. Actually compre is the most important part of the training. If you don’t clear it your training won’t complete. Now retest was the only hope for her.</div>
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Retest was the very next day. We were going to classroom after dinner. And suddenly she started crying. </div>
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“Gaurav. I really love you.” She said.</div>
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“I love you too sweetu. Don’t cry. Everything would be ok. I’m there for you. I won’t let you flunk again.” I consoled her.</div>
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“No. I will because there’s no way out. And we’ll be separated forever. ”</div>
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“No dear. It won’t ever happen” I said and took her in my arms.</div>
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“Gaurav. Can you do something for me?” She asked.</div>
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“Of course my love. My whole life is yours.” I said.</div>
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“You’ll have to sit along with me tomorrow. You know every one does it. Meenal’s boyfriend helped her out that’s why she cleared. I hope Even I can expect this much from my love.” She said.</div>
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I was drowned into deep thinking because it was really risky, In fact very risky. We could’ve been thrown out of the company if caught. But on the other side was my love. What I would do in the company without her because if she fails she’d be out, I thought. Then I just looked into matter carefully that these people never count the number of candidates appearing for a test and how many are extra. Then I thought that I’ll sit on another system and complete the project and submit on Geetha’s employee id.</div>
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The day came; we all were sitting in the class room. I was sitting a bit far from her and finally we got the project. It was not at all tough for me. I started working on it and had completed almost half when Srikkanth.M entered into the classroom. He was our batch owner, just like a class teacher in schools. Don’t know how but he’d got the report that no. of candidates appearing were more than the no. in the list. I was shocked. It was a dead end to my career. Coming time won’t be easy for me and I’ll have to face a lot, I thought. I look at Geetha’s face. She was looking as lovely and innocent as ever. But she too was badly shocked. But don’t know why, I wasn’t afraid. Love had given me a special courage and I was doing it for my love, no one else. So what if I’m caught. Srikkanth knew me quite well as I was among those who’d got 100/100 in his module, java. He looked at me straight away and called me.</div>
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Srikkanth himself was shocked when he found me as the culprit. But he was helpless as company is very strict against the cheating cases. He asked me again and again the name of the guy for whom I’m screwing up my career. But how would’ve I named my love. I didn’t speak a word. He insisted again and again that Infosys needed brains like me but I would not listen. Finally he gave up and reported to HR department. The same question was asked again and again from me but my love was the most important thing in the world for me now. They then asked me to write a resignation letter and I did the same. I was fired. </div>
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Someone’s strange voice hit my ears and I came out of the world of my thoughts. I was still sitting on the footpath and looking at the trees and the birds. </div>
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“Come on sir. Sit in the cart.” Cart driver said. </div>
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“Oh yes. Lets go.” I replied and left the campus and the company for ever.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Now you all must be having one question your mind. That what about Geetha? Geetha cleared the exam. I think I had taught her enough and rest she cheated from the guy who was sitting next to her. I waited for her call after the incident but she didn’t. I called her but she didn’t attend my call. And most interesting thing is that it has been 8 months since that incident but we never had a talk.</div>
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hi Readers...</div>
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firstly i'd like to thank u for the overwhelming response..</div>
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and one thing i noticed was that u all have mistaken me as gaurav..</div>
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i'm not gaurav.. </div>
and one thing more....<br />
its not that only gals use boys.. it can be a boy too...<br />
so please tell all ur friends to read the story so that we can save more and more guys or gals like gaurav....<br />
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@ all those who are sending this story to their friends via mail..</div>
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please give the link of the blog along with the story...</div>
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reason : yesterday i was chatting with one of my old friends who work with infosys. he told me about the story and in reply i told him that i wrote it. and gave him the link of this blog...</div>
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u know what he said . that i've copied it from somewhere else... lolzz</div>
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and in the end i wasn't able to convince him that i wrote it.. ha ha ha..</div>
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so please ........... </div>
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And if u hv time, plz read the other postings too..... they r not too bad.. :)</div>
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anyway thanks a lot for liking my writing..</div>
PLEASE DO WRITE COMMENTS and express your thoughts about it....<br />
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or send e-mail : ankurktiet05@gmail.com<br />
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BUT PLEASE DO WRITE..<br />
I'd love to hear from u.<br />
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Ankur..</div>
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ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com176tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653993022632974490.post-32114932547801611712008-06-06T02:01:00.000+05:302008-07-10T14:01:39.579+05:30LATE... BUT NOT TOO MUCHToday Vikram Kant was very happy and why shouldn't he be? After all it was 27th of august, his daughter Reema's birthday. He bought a truffle chocolate cake for his daughter who loved it more than anything else on the planet. It was the most expensive cake in the royal bakery which was situated on the road just below the hill on which he lived. Suddenly it started raining heavily and it grew darker everywhere. The evening now looked like the midnight and lovely scenic beauty of the hill station was now converted into horrifying darkness. Vikram opened his umbrella and climbed up the hill to give his daughter the surprise.<br /> His eleven years old daughter relished every bit of the cake and the atmosphere at their home was engrossed with gay and the joy of the occasion. Shamika, reema's mother had already cooked few of reema's favourite dishes. There was music, dance, dishes, laughter, revelry all around. But suddenly reema started breathing heavily.<br /> All the joy of the evening immediately turned into terror. Reema had got another attack of asthma . The situation became worse when Shamika discovered that the medicine in the inhaler had expired. Vikram just ran out of the home to buy a new one from downhill market. It was still raining but this time he didn't bother to take his umbrella. Reema was breathing more heavily now and had started feeling the pain in her chest. Shamika couldn't do anything but wait for her husband to return with the medicine. But being a mother it was hard for her to tolerate her daughter's situation. Every second seemed to be endless now and it was already 15 minutes since vikram had gone out. The pain in Reema's chest was getting more and more excruciating and now she had begun to whine loudly. Time seemed to be endless as already half an hour had passed.<br /> Terrified Shamika Took the expired inhaler and sprayed into reema's mouth. Her patience had reached the culmination. She couldn't see her daughter dying like that. Expired medicine would do atleast something, she thought. Still there were no signs of Vikram. It was still raining and he was no where on the road till shamika could see. Another half an hour passed and Reema was feeling quite better. Now Shamika was getting worried about Vikram because in no way he could take more than 20 minutes to go downhill and return but it was already one hour. She waited for another one hour and herself went downhill to look for vikram. Now reema was feeling alright and had slept. It was still raining as heavily as before. For shamika it was the most terrifying night of her life. Firstly her daughter had faced such a trouble and now there were no signs of her husband.<br /> She reached downhill to see all the shops closed. There was no one out there whom she may have asked. There was silence of the graveyard and there were no human beings around. Shamika was completely perplexed and had no clue at all. So broken from all sorts, she walked into the alley leading her uphill.<br /> She reached home and saw her daughter in a sound sleep. She laid beside her and didn't sleep the whole night waiting for her husband but he didn't return. Next morning She called up her relatives and family friends but still there was no information about vikram anywhere. She reported to police but even they were not able to find him. Days passed, months passed and years passed. Vikram never returned.<br /> Now reema had grown up and was a beautiful young lady. Shamika found a handsome guy for her and Reema got married. Reema was blessed with lovely daughter nearly 2 years after her marriage. since Reema's husband had lost his parents long ago, so he used to stay with Reema in the same house where she had spent her childhood. Everything was going on quite good for them till reema's mother, Shamika fell ill and died. Now Reema lived there with her husband and her lovely daughter who was also asthmatic like her. Years passed by but no problem occurred and everything went very smooth and nice.<br /> One day it was raining heavily and all the three were having their supper when suddenly Reema's daughter got an attack of asthma. Reema then found out that the inhaler had no medicine and they forgot to buy a new one. Reema's husband wore his raincoat and ran towards the door to get a new inhaler. The scene which happened many years ago came to her mind and she cried, "No.... you are going nowhere. I can't afford to lose you."<br /><br />_____________________________________]<br /><br />now there are 2 ways to end this story... u take it how u like.<br />ending 1:<br /><br />Reema's husband was astonished at her behavior and asked the reason. She was just beginning to explain him when the door opened in a flash and there was some old man on the door. Her daughter got up and shouted,"here comes my grandpa". Reema couldn't believe her eyes, it was her father, Vikram standing on the door with a lot more wrinkles and beard on his face. Every one was stunned. There was silence all around.<br />"I hope I'm not too late"Said Vikram handing over a brand new inhaler to Reema.<br /><br /><br /><br />another ending...<br /><br />saying this, she gives her daughter the expired inhaler, and, feeling better, the girl sleeps soundly.<br />then, they decide to not repeat the mistake, and, hence, both of them set out together to buy the medicine.<br />on their way, the husband slips down the alley, and, into an underground dungeon.<br />there, he finds a brand new inhaler, and, a skeleton.<br /><br />reema follows him (she too slips), and, is stunned seeing the inhaler, and the skeleton. she is dead frightened.<br />a skeleton is here=> no way out!!<br />husband: "don't worry. u climb on my back, and get out!!! dont worry abt me. ur dad dint have someone to help him out. u have me"<br />after much deliberation, in the interest of their daughter, she climbed out.<br /><br />suddenly, the husband had a weird feeling, some tingling sensation at his leg.<br />seeing down, he sees that, due to wind and all, the skeleton has moved to his leg.<br /><br />he climbs over it, but, cud not reach to the top. he yells for help, for his wife. but, she did not wait for him!! he breathes his last, knowing that both his wife and daughter are safe.<br /><br />+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++<br /><br />but with this second ending the title also have to be changed.. anyway.. the 2nd ending was suggested by one of my friends, prasad..ankur kaushalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13796466431100867882noreply@blogger.com13