An untold love story Part 2

            Sometimes in the middle of nowhere, life blesses you with a fairytale..

     There was something special about that day.. In years, I had unusually woken up to the chirping of the birds. I opened the curtains to let the first rays of the sun enter the room. The air was still thick with fog. My room overlooked the garden which was only separated by only wall from our backyard. 

     The house which was only a wall away was the closest to our house and vacant, like all things in my life. The estate agent had told me when I moved in here, "Here is the house which suits your requirement. Not a soul around. You could die here and not a soul would know for months!". I had muttered, "Perfect".

     The house was magnificent 2 storied and too well furnished. I had often wondered who would invest so much in such a house and not live even a day in it. Something about the house caught my interest. The house looked alive! Yes, the curtains were thickly covering the house today. The garden looked freshly mowed. A little hustle-bustle of servants could be seen. Somebody had arrived!! 

     In one corner of the garden I could see a figure. I went over to the other window to have a closer look. A young girl, dressed in a lavish gown and wearing a hat had taken seat on a wooden bench and was deeply engrossed in a novel. She smiled while still reading.. a pretty picture.. She looked like the queen of flowers that surrounded her. Maybe she sensed my eyes devouring her beauty. She looked up alarmed and I quickly hid myself.. She went back to her dreamworld of books.. 

     The artist in me had been aroused. I quickly snatched my canvas, paintbrushes and positioned myself close to the window. She became my muse.. my inspiration which I needed. 

      

It was close to noon when she went inside the house. I waited fervently every single morning for her to start her reading so that I could capture her well. It took me 5 days to make a picture of her and that till date is my best work..

     Even though I was done with my painting, watching her read became my favorite activity. I would while away half of my day looking at her. Who was this girl? What was she doing here? The question about her haunted me. I was truly enchanted by her beauty. 

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Rhea knew where the painting would be.. She had never known he was watching her.. She had been believing all these years that she was the one who was first drawn to him.. 

     For the first time since we had shifted, the door bell rang. I was irritated by this intrusion.I took it on  myself to see that whoever it was, would never return back. I open the door ready to snarl at the intruder. 

   "What the hell do you want?" I had mouthed the words before even having a look at who was standing at the door. 

    It was HER. She looked like she walked straight out of my painting. I was proud of her! She resembled all the intricate details I had done of her sketch. 

    A delicate sharp nose, a high cheekbone but not a hint of arrogance, bright hazel brown eyes that took in everything they saw, tender lips and flowing tresses. Her face was captivatingly attractive. Her eyebrows arched in perfect symmetry. She was wearing a loose dress but it did not hide the hints of that slender figure, those long legs. I stole my eyes lest they meander on unknown paths.

    "I m sorry. One of my cats might have come into your compound by mistake. I cannot find him. Will you please help me?"

     She was nervous and I was more than that. If she came in and saw the painting!! The thought was enough to chill me. 

     " Shouldn't you teach your cats some manners? I m sorry lady, I cannot waste my time looking for your stupid cat. Anthony uncle will help you when he returns. Now please leave me alone."

      She looked heartbroken and yet her eyes kept searching her cat. She must have loved it a lot.. I hated cats. 

      I closed the door shut, my heart finally returning the pulse back to normal. I watched her silently from the living room. She walked back.. as if wiping a tear.. Something inside me hurt.. Man! This was new!!

(to be continued)

An untold love story

                  "Ishq hota nahi sabhi k liye... ishq hota nahi sabhi k liye..

                   ye bana hai.. ye bana hai..kisi kisi k liye..."

  

       A car drove into the lonely pathway leading to Springfield villa. The house wore its usual calm appearance. A few eyes peeped from their windows across the house. In this small town nothing remained a secret. They saw a lady get down from the Santro. She signalled the chauffeur to leave. The woman looked well into her forties. Her hair neatly clubbed into a high bun. Her eyegear not giving a hint of the nostalgic tears  on the verge of breaking out. Her scarlet red colored lips gave a little quiver and she quickly bit them. She looked around and saw a few curtains closing tight. Perhaps the town was on its toes to know the best kept secret of their surrounding. 

image: ibibo.com

As she entered the compound, subconciously she was the 16 year old who first entered this villa. She felt the same nervousness and same doubts as she was now sensing to build up in her. She knocked the bell at the door. It was still the same.. There was no electric bell yet.. It felt like she was entering some temple..

image: ebay.co.uk

She rang the bell. She almost thought a young, arrogant bastard with deep brown eyes would yell back at her, "What the hell are you doing here?" and she would look like a complete idiot staring hard at this handsome lad. He looked straight out of the mills and boons that she had grown up reading.. But that was 25 years ago..

The door took time to open. A tired pair of eyes peeped out. A smile reached her eyes when she saw that familiar face. He must be now about 60 years old but Anthony uncle still looked the same benevolent figure she had come to like.  

"Do you recognise me Anthony uncle?" she asked lovingly.

He strained his eyes. She took out her eyegear and it took him less than a second to call out,

"Rhea beta! So unexpected to see you! Where were you all these years? Did you forget me?" his eyes moistened.

"No Uncle, I didn't forget you even for a moment.. I missed the muffins you made almost every day.." she smiled.

"Come in my child.. Baba has gone to the market. You make yourself comfortable while I get started to make you your favorite muffins." 

She entered inside the house that she once thought she will live forever in.. How naive that dream had been! 

Everything looked the same.. untouched by time.. She filled her heart with the sight of this place.. She ran her fingers through the paintings.. 

Tears brimmed her eyes and she couldn't hold them back now.. 

Anthony uncle brought her a glass of juice. He had been crying as well, she could tell that. 

"Rhea beta, come with me."

Rhea entered the room behind uncle. The room which held ghosts of her dreams now. The room which saw her ecstatic union with her love.. The  room which heard their laughter, their tears, their anger.. The room was still the same.. White colored with no hint of any other color. She had once decorated this room with flowers of every color possible.. that day when she had given him everything of herself..

image: elledecor.com

Anthony uncle opened the drawer.. The only black drawer in that room to reveal a book... 

"You need to read this Rhea..baba wrote this.. He will never show you this.. Read it before he comes.." 

She wondered "Can he write?" .. What could this possibly be about? He hated to read love stories or watch love stories then why write one? Who could it be about? Why should she read? He had been so fiercely protective about his personal space.. He would probably strangulate her if she invaded his privacy this way.. She had always been terrified of his anger.. 

She decided she won't read it no matter how compelling she found it.. 

She had become oblivious to Anthony uncle who left with a faint smile, as she was turning the pages..

The first page read,

Between you and me.. An untold love story...

To be continued.

A little bit of lying..

             This is the story I wrote for "Monsoon Madness" at "The Writer's Lounge" and I won :)

“Appa, I m sorry.. I will do as you say..”

Muthu patted his daughter’s head.  Auraya was his only daughter and his pride.

It had pained his heart to keep her confined to her room all week but if that was the way his daughter  would forget that Muslim boy and get married to a boy from their own caste, he was ready to inflict this suffering on her. 

He would have to call Tarun’s family and set a date soon.

If a little bit of lying could change situations he saw no harm in doing it for his daughter’s well being.

As soon as she was handed her cellphone she called Tarun. Even though she had agreed to abide by her father’s wishes, her father had not let her use the phone in his absence. 

She called Tarun in front of her father and asked if they could meet to discuss the shopping. Muthu was pleased that Auraya was making an effort to participate in the preparations of her marriage.

She met Tarun at the city Plaza.  Tarun was radiating with happiness befitting a groom. Auraya felt guilty of bursting the bubble of his joy but she had to do it.. for her love.

“Tarun I cannot marry you.” She said without looking into his eyes.

“Auraya! Are you kidding? Why did you agree then?” he asked her disbelievingly.

“Tarun appa will never let me get out of the house if I don’t agree. Tarun I love Armaan. Appa doesn’t approve of him because he is a Muslim, but once I get married to him Appa will know that he is a very loving guy. Appa will accept us sooner or later. Help me Tarun. Please don’t spoil our lives.”

“Spoil your life! What do you want me to do Auraya?” he was flaring.

“Act like we are happy with his match. Let me get in contact with Armaan.  Within a month I and Armaan will marry and then you can tell the truth.”

He sat there watching her in amazement  and felt his dreams collapsing.

She was cheating her father.. She was cheating Tarun.. But if a little bit of lying could unite her with her love  she would do it..

“yes uncle, Amma has consulted the family astrologer. 5^th of next month is an auspicious day. I know its early but we will have a simple wedding. If it is okay with you.. else..”

“No.. no its alright.” Muthu was a little stunned by the speed of events. He wanted to have a grand celebration for his daughter’s marriage but he agreed. Buying more time could mean possibility of a change of heart. Auraya was young and being a father of a young girl in love , Muthu was skeptical.

Tarun knew he was doing wrong. He had lied to Amma that Auraya’s father was ill and that was why the wedding has to be next month.

He had no intention of keeping Auraya’s confidence.  She was a romantic but she was not practical. She was looking at the world with rosy glasses. She would never be happy with Armaan. She was a Tamilian Brahmin. What would she do with a beef eater. Heck! Who was he fooling with all this talks of caste and wellbeing. The truth was that Tarun loved Auraya. From the day he had set eyes on her. His love was not the love that sacrifices for some stupid romantic ideas of his lady. IF a little bit of lying could make her his wife, he would do it.

“You are lying Nausheen.. Auraya can never do  this to me.” Armaan shouted at his childhood friend and neighbor Nausheen.

“I might be lying.. but what about this snaps Armaan? Auraya has willingly cut off contact with you because she is going to marry Tarun.”

Nausheen was Auraya’s classmate and Armaan had tried to send his messages to Auraya through her. Little did he know that his messages remained undelivered, destroyed by the acid venom of Nausheen’s  jealousy.

Armaan once again looked at the blurred picture clicked in Nausheen’s  phone. Auraya was holding Tarun’s hand in what looked like a romantic gesture. What did he know that Auraya had held his hand in sympathy and pleading?

Nausheen  knew Auraya loved Armaan but so did she. If a little bit of lying could make Armaan hers forever, she would do it.

.

“How could you do this to me , you bitch!” Armaan was in a wild rage.

“Armaan I did it for you.” She tried convincing him

He nodded in disbelief, his eyes reddened with pain,deceit and mad fury.

She had the look of a lamb about to be sacrificed when he shot her at point blank range.

Lies can kill.. Auraya became the victim of a web of lies woven by her and trapped in those of the others..

P.S Girls, the blog is all set to start.. Please mail me the ids you blog from so that I can invite you as authors.. Before that we need to discuss sections as well.. Do get in touch.. 

Celebrations, A girly idea, a sweet dedication and a little secret...

         I m all geared up to write a longggg post which I have been planning for sometimes now.. So sit back readers and let me fill you with all that is on my mind :P 


Celebration..
Today I complete one whole year into blogging.. Although I created this blog on August along with another blog which has stopped functioning, I starting posting on this blog from November.. So still officially this is the birthday  month of my blog..
Another thing to celebrate is that, this is my 100th post!! 
Happy birthday my dear blog!!!!





okay, so I have made my wish.. You can all now start eating :D :D 


A girly idea:


I have had this idea for a long time now.. Time to share it with all my girl bloggers and followers..
I have this plan to open an "All girls blog"..
This would be the space where all of us would get to write and express on topics which affect, delight, surprise us and also our experiences..
This blog is open for all girls.. If you are a tomboy, a sweet 16, a matured mommy, a naughty spoilt girl or the "too girly" girl.. all are welcome.. The more the shades, the better.. 
We would be having contests, interviews, discussions and what is an all girls blog without gossiping right girls?
You can also share your recipes once a week (this is only voluntary as I know most of you are worst cooks) and enlighten our "dont-know-crap-about-cooking" sisters :D
Fashion, boys, men, love, deceit, fantasy and all other naughty things welcome.. ( I can feel a few of you already raising an eyebrow and giving a smile) 


The blog will be created on 1st September. I have a few names for it
"Pink Heaven" "Darlings of Venus" "Women of Shades" are top on my list.. I need more suggestions.. The name of the blog will be decided by all of the members.. The one that is liked most is selected..


I request MSM, Redhanded,Chandana, Suruchi,Viya, Priyanka,Mehak, Vinati to please mail me their email-ids at maithili.bhatnagar4@gmail.com to join in the blog if they find it interesting..
 Anyone not mentioned above is most welcome to send me a message if they are interested.. I will be happy to welcome you aboard.. :)
If there is any hesitation by anyone to come out bold in this blog then you can always join in with an assumed name.. ITs thoughts that matter here..
Hoping that we can make a fun blog..


A sweet dedication..
What is a 100th post if it is not love on my blog! So here you go with a sweet Lover's Talk which I wrote for the Writers Lounge sometime back.. I was saving it for the 100th post ;)


"Heloooo"
.. silence..."Helllo"
"So rahe the kya baby?"
"Nahi!" (grumpily)..
"Fir kaha ho?" (quiet innocently)
"Neend se uthati ho fir puchti ho so raha hu kya?" .. raises  his voice..
"Sorry to disturb" meekly..
"Accha.......its...."
Girl hangs up...

2nd call...

"Ha baba, bolo kya hua"
"Nahi jaane do.. tum so jao"
"Ho gaya na shona.. ab bolo tum kaha ho?"
"Train"
"Kaha jaa rahi ho?"
"Fir bhul gaye na? Exam hai mera aaj..
Ek toh tumne mujhe sube sube daata aur ab mujhe wish bhi nahi kar rahe ho"
"All the best jaanu"
"Thank you"
"Shaamko milogi?"
"Pehle tum sorry bolo.. "
"Accha baba galati ho gayi..sorry.."
"It's ok"
"Tum bhi sorry bolo ab"
"kyun kyun?"
"Phone ek baar nahi uthaya toh samajhna chahiye tha na.. der se aya tha kal.. so raha tha.. isliye chid gaya"
"Acha thik hai.. Sorry"
"Ye accha hai!! "
"Aye mera chotta wala sorry hai ha lekin"
"Hehe.. chalega.. kamse kam galati toh maani.. Bolo shaamko aogina?"
"Ha aungi.."
"love you jaan.."
"love you too jaanu."
"bye"
"bye"

1 min later..
"Phone rakho na"
"Tum rakho pehle"
"Tum"
"Nahi tum"
"Accha thik hai.. Har baar ki tarah me hi haar maanta hu.."
"Nahi suno.. saath me rakhte hai.."
"Ha chalo bye"

It all began with a snooze button..

      It all began with the snooze button of my phone. 

I set three alarms on my phone everynight. The first goes off one prior to the time I m supposed to wake up which my subconcious self has become immune to that I click the off button the moment it rings. The second one goes off half an hour later and I m on the verge of getting concious. I conciously off that button and sleep in the bliss that I have another 30 minutes to sleep! 

      The last alarm goes off at the precise time I plan to wake up and well that is the deciding alarm-whether I will wake up and be on time or snooze it and rush around all day...

      

      The last alarm rang at 6.. I raised my hands from the sheet and sleepily clicked the "SNOOZE" option. The snooze option meant that the alarm would again ring after 10 minutes. 

                                                                     thats my phone :) 

        

10 minutes later...

Oh shit! I have slept for half hour extra!! It's 6.30.. What the hell happened to Snooze!! 

Without sparing more thoughts on it I rush to the bathroom..

Alas! My brother has already captured it.. I hurry to the other room.. Dad has gone in just a minute back and shouts out, "Wait for sometime."

I waste no time and start making tea. While the tea boils I pack my lunch( which mom has already prepared) and fill my water bottle ( I drink loads of it :P ). 

Since I haven't yet brushed my teeth, the tea remains in the kitchen while I go hunt for my clothes. The ones I find suitable aren't ironed!! So I go about ironing them.. 

I keep dashing out to check the time. 

Its 6.45..

Bro finally comes out and I quickly brush my teeth before having my tea and breakfast. Another 5 minutes and I go in to the bathroom again.

7.10 

I m ready in record time and about to set out when it starts raining.. I search around for my umbrella.. When I finally find it Mom shouts out, "Have  you taken your keys?"

Oh Shit! I don't have my keys.. I again ravage my room to hunt for the keys.. I don't find it.. 

It's already 7.20 and that means I missed my bus. I stop searching for keys and run out to the bus stop..

7.25.

I usually catch the 7.15 bus which reaches me to the station in time to board the train at 7.47 am.. I missed the bus and consequently I will miss the train.. I make last moment decision to get in to the bus that takes me to the next station to catch the same train..

Its 7.30.. The 7.47 train which leaves my station goes to the next station and from there it again loops back to my station and then ahead. I loop back so that I may get a seat ( I need a seat to complete my sleeping quota of 8-8.30 am) but now that I have to climb from the supposed starting point, I have to forget about my seat.. and pray that I don't succumb to suffocation. 

I go to the next station and its 7.55.. The train reaches there at 8 or so I m told by people on the platform. I go to the platform number 9 (this is the first time I heard of it) and all I see is long train tracks adjacent to a stony area on which there is a sign board saying Platform 9 (when did this platform come into being and why is it in such a dilapidated state!!)

I see only women on this platform and wonder what the hell is going on.. This train is not even a LADIES SPECIAL train.

I see the train approaching at a distance and I also see women scattering all about the platform.. The train is dangerously close to the place we are all standing.. I move back.. A woman dressed in navari sari (the 9 yard sari) tells me that if I move back I will be pushed and not be able to get in.. Stay close she says.. 

I m intimidated by the entire episode. I don't see any familiar faces.. Heck I don't even see the familiar style of dressing! They are all dressed in local clothes (something you don't see in first class at least).

The train halts very close to us and is suspiciously silent. No shouts of people getting out and people crowding  to get in.. No usual whistling of the train.. It is dead silent..

I get in and see that there is no one on the platform, neither did anyone board the train with me..

I enter the train nevertheless and I m startled.. The usual seatings have changed.. They are no longer blue and the compartment is no longer green.. The entire coach is white! milk white and added to that they are two seated rows.. like in buses.. The seats face towards a LCD TV! Omg!! What the hell was I witnessing! 

I m at loss.. I see people (the actual type of female passengers I see in train daily) sitting calmly.. No usual chattering going on.. 

A woman dressed in white blouse and red skirt approaches me. She has her hair tied in a bun and she is wearing scarlet red lipstick.. Her face has hints of makeup and her eyes are heavily lined in black. She is the only one looking human.. The rest are all busy typing on their laptops or staring blankly at the screen.. I look like an outcast.. no belonging here.. or rather transported into another world.. She leads me to a seat and gives an assuring smile.. 

Next moment I m standing at the Santacruz station abuzz with people.. There is the usual crowd of people.. people moving in a hurry to reach their office in time.. Students waiting on the bridge for their friends to arrive so that they can all go together in an auto.. Daily workers roaming around to search for work. A long queue of people at the bus stop.. The urchins sitting on the stairs of the overhead bridge.. everything was same...

I think hard about what just happened to me.. I feel teleported....

I hear "tere bin aur na koi..." and look around..

Its ringing right in my ears and I open my eyes...

Shitttt!! I snoozed it twice and its actually 6.30!!! I have been in another world all this time and this is really happening to me in reality now!! 

The next moments were mirror of what happened to me then.. The same delay the same things.. It was prophetic.. Except that in reality I got the next bus at 7.25 and looped back in another train and reached college late.. 

There is no platform 9.. I often wonder what the origin of that dream was.. Neither did I think of plane or of Harry porter movies.. nothing.. The day before I was leading a completely normal day with no such thoughts.. Then what inspired this dream? Was this dream a mere jumble of thoughts deep ingrained or was it prophetic? Some message which the subconcious knows and wants to convey to the conciousness via the dream?? 

Mystic, ain't it??

P.S I get many such dreams which are intriguing and mysterious but the only difference here is that  I remember this one in all details.. 

I got the inspiration to write about it from Blasphemous Aesthete who pens them down so beautifully..

Because I m not alone..

            I remember the correct order of events that brought him into my life..

My mom and dad both work and I used to stay with my grandparents while they were away at work. I was pampered with lots of toys as the adults failed to keep me amused. My house had a big gunny sack in which I filled my toys and when I wanted to play I simply overturned it, making a mess of the whole room. I got chided enough times and the only standard excuse I used to give would be, "All my friends have brother or sister, they play with them in afternoon.. Only I get bored.. Everybody fights with me for toys.. I m katti with all" and then I would get that benevolent look and no matter mess I had created, it would be cleared by one of the adults.

           I also have memories of sulking on Rakshabandhan because I didn't have a brother to tie a rakhi to. My friends on the other hand, dressed up and got gifts for tieing a rakhi. My next door neighbors were two boys , one my age and one elder. I made them my rakhi brother. The feeling is never the same and that I realised once my brother entered my life..

          I was 6 years old when Mom told me that she would bring a child to play with me. I was overjoyed. By then I had a younger sister as a cousin, who was and is still close to me although she is 6 years younger to me. So the choice was clear. I wanted Mom to bring only a younger brother!!!!!!

         The Kargil war was in full force and I was greatly influenced by it. When you are young ,the mind is easily impressioned and I had a patriotic fever. I was an avid newspaper reader at an early age. I pleaded mom to have a boy so that we can send him to army!

        It was December, the month of anticipation. Mom was in her last month of pregnancy and I was severely ill due to jaundice. I was on complete  bed rest. 

        The night Mom had to be sent to hospital. My father and another relative accompanied her while I was left in the care of a distant relative who had come over to sleep for the night. 

        The next evening I was sitting in the verandah when my aunt came home. 

"You have a brother now." she smiled at me and patted my head.

        The neighbors all started making turns for the hospital to see the new born and I was left home, feeling jealous that the neighbors had seen the newborn first! It was my gift!!!

        Finally I was taken to see my mother. She was resting. My Dad took me to look into a yellow lighted cabin that had a small bundle. The nurse lifted it and brought it closer. The sight filled me with a feeling I would never be able to define. I was too young to feel love or maternal instincts .. I could just feel possessive of it.. It was mine...

        He looked at me with large eyes which looked luminous. He had jet black straight hair which were spiked! That guy came with style! He was instantly named Mogli by the nurses. He was dark complexioned but his cheeks turned pink when he cried.

       My joy was shortlived. He soon became the centre of attention of  my world. I thought I was largely ignored while I was treated like just another kid. I was accustomed to feeling royal! 

       My Mom spent all her time with him. Dad came home and played with him. I started feeling jealous. I ridiculed his dark complexion. I was the fair one. He was too young to understand the venom in me. 

        He laughed when he saw me. His eyes following me wherever I was  in the room. I was the closest to his size and that might have sprung a bond in him. He would know somehow that it was 5 o'clock and keep putting out his head to see if I came home from school. He would watch me play while my Mom held him in her arms. He would come to hold me when any stranger entered the house. 

        There were moments which when I look back now, were of so much importance which I saw. I saw him first land on his stomach and crawl. I was the sole witness when he sat himself the first time. When he first uttered something.. When he first stood up.. When he would hold the support and walk and when he let go of his support and walked the first time.. So many first times which I was a part of.. 

        I resented having to look after him all the time when I went out of play. He would bump into someone and fall and I would be shouted at. I had to take responsibility for him very early in life.

       As he grew up, he conveniently burdened me with his projects, his art work, his drawing assignments and for that he says,

"You topped school and because of you all teachers expect great things out of me.. So you only do."

        He was the innocent one, the forgiving, the loving brother. While he cried when I called him "kaala" or something like that, I would shout at him if he said anything to me. He once told my aunt, " I m dark, my sister is beautiful." I came to know of this too late and I still can't believe how that kid must have loved me when I was so awful.

       So many years later, he still is the support and forgiving one of his erring, spoilt sister. He is well into this teenage and I see that aggressive streak in him now. We have mad arguments to the point of throwing things at each other and the very next moment he would come to me with something funny and we would both be talking, scheming and laughing. My Mom often says, "People who come in between your fights would go mad!!"

Somethings never do change,

Like how I always lose my erasers and he got me a whole box of erasers :D

How I can always ask him to search for things I misplaced :D

How we cover up for each other.

How he always keeps chocolates for me..

How all of a sudden he would say, "You are fat but you are too cute" and make me smile..
How he would say "we are actually twins but I was born 7 years late :D "

How today he is inches taller to me and teases me "you look like my younger sis."

After all these years, its my time to show off to the world that I have such an awesome bro :D :D and because I m not alone...

                                           clicked on a rakshabandhan some years back.

      because no matter how crowded the world, I will always squeeze in to make space for you..

no matter how tall you become you will always be a kid brother :D :D

Have a great time folks.. 

      

Kaama purti Maama..

           I remember the first time I heard this phrase from a Maharashtrian friend of mine.. She was talking about some fellow and suddenly she said, "He is like that... " giving a deep thought she continued.. "Kaama purti Maama."  I give  myself fair credit for being fluent enough in the local language but I had never heard of this phrase before. On questioning her she said, "Arre the one who would make you uncle only for his work." Back then there was hardly anyone I could associate with this phrase. In this day, my life is full of this species whose ideology to survival is "Kaama purti maama."

          

A little more about this species..

This species is adept at camouflaging. 

A common slogan of this species is , "All are my friends." More so because this species is afraid of losing benefits from the non friends!  

This species has an inherent ability to modify statements.

This species cannot survive without migrating. It migrates from one group of people to other. Be careful if this kind of a species ever becomes party to your secret. You can trust the secret to be put up on the notice board.

It is difficult to judge the characteristic of this species. They look driven by moodswings although it is only a mask for the ever conniving mastermind, they act childish and ignorant a well practiced tactic to bury out information which they can use against you when in need.

This species is apt at making every mistake of theirs look like a misunderstanding and giving the false notion that they repent it. The crocodile tear reserve is in the lacrimal sac of this species.

They will often make a public display of their apology and do it in such a way that you are forced to forgive them although half-heartedly. Often the reason they give in public for apologizing would be completely different from what actually conspired and if you make a scene of that you would be termed as the one making a mountain out of a mole.

If you face any more confusion about this species then the instant way to recognise them is, within a day of apologizing they would ask for a favor! 

My experience with the above mentioned kind of people has left me wondering if a virus of  "Kaama purti maama" has secretly invaded the genetic code and mutated the humans!

Ok, one and two exceptions here and there are negligible, but when you find that people around you slowly peeling off their skin to expose the true colors you are left with the thought, "Am I in the wrong era??" 

Whatever happened to those morals and goodness taught to us in childhood? 

It is a far better when you can choose between good and bad.. this mutated goodness-cum-badness is a tough one.. You never know when to let them close and when to keep them away..

What I also know is that these KPM people do not have guilt.. Guilt is an induced state for them which is stable only till the fake show of apology is over and done with.  

The first few times I encountered such people I knew instantly that these where the people I had to stay away from..

When a KPM who was acting like a good friend showed his KPM ness I was like, "You too! "

When a childhood friend suddenly acted stung by KPMness after she got hitched I was like, "Wow.. Welcome to the world!"

So what do I do? 

Do I act all hurt by KPMness of my one time friends and pity my plight.. I tried doing that but got pretty much bored.

Do I try knocking some sense into the heads of those KPMs which where once dear to me? I know that the bug has blinded them and there is no reason that they will see..

DO I adopt the KPM philosophy and throw a stone for a brick ?? ( Eet ka jawab patthar se!! Khi khi khi) 

The thing with KPM virus is that it cannot be counter attacked by another KPM ! It only makes the original KPM get projected as the victim.. So no use acting as a KPM on a KPM..

So what do I do? I do what I can do best! That is to be good and yet be indifferent.. How do I deal with KPM:

1. Give them one word replies.

2. KPM people mostly have the habit of talking alone to attract attention. Do not act interested! 

3. No matter what lengthy explaining they give for their behavior just reply in "OK".. It bugs them when you don't act agitated or act sympathetic to their story.

4. Master the habit of giving flat replies without a hint of rudeness. 

5. The weakness of KPM is their KPMness.. Make use of it.. Harass the hell out of them for what they need.

If they ask you if you have "XYZ"

Reply a "Yes." Do no ask if they need it! 

The next question would inevitably be if they could have it.

Again a yes.

Then the ball is in your court.. Give them when you wish. Do not act good enough to give it to them that instant.. 

There is nothing much I can do about them than what I mentioned above. Like KPM is inherent and also spread, goodness can only be inherent! If you are good enough you wouldn't enjoy harassing even a KPM unless it is absolutely deserving..

All I can do is warn you about the species ! 

Suggestion to deal with them is welcomed! 

P.S As you must have guessed, I m practically helpless with this fever , sore throat and cold.. Typing away is the only relief I get from boredome! So bear with my posts :) ITs two posts already.. I better sleep !