The Girl.

A few days ago, I had taken a trip to Bombay to appear for an entrance exam along with a friend of mine.

If you know both of us, you can imagine the kind of damage two monkey’s could do without adult supervision.

Unfortunately, you do not know both of us and so I have the pleasure of narrating the incidents that followed during the short trip.

The day before the exam we did not do much except eating at four different restaurant’s and cafe’s.

Yeah. Not much.

The next day we reached the venue for the exam and made our way to our classroom. By the Almighty’s grace we were made to sit together. Sorted.

Seated. We did what most of the humans are best at doing.

Judging people.

“Bhai, what is that guy wearing? Like seriously, is that what you wear to an exam? These civilians yaar.”

Hey. No offence to any civilians.

“Dude, that girl! Oh My God! She’s so pretty!’

“Stop it man! You have a girlfriend! Behave!”

“Bhai, there is a lot of greenery here. I would like to come to this college.”

“I know what you mean.”

We had an hour to kill before the examination started.

And it went on and on until The Girl entered the classroom.

Yes. THE Girl. Heads turned. Eyes rolled. Jaws dropped. Hearts skipped a beat.

I like to think of it this way. It was destined for us to be seated nearby.

Yes. This is when words like ‘Destiny’, ‘Fate’ make sense to you.

She came towards us.

Long black hair. As black as the night.

Brown eyes….. Brown eyes? Brown? Brown eyes?

*Kudiye ni tere, brown rang ne, munde patdeni saari meri town de*

Thinking to myself: ‘No Honey Singh! Not right now! Wrong timing!’

And then she spoke, in her dreamy velvety voice.

“Excuse me? Is someone sitting here?”

“No no. Please have a seat.”

She smelt of everything good. Everything good on this planet. Everything sweet and nice and kind….

“Fructose. That is what perfumes are made of.”

“Shut up dude. Just keep quiet now. Please?”

We had an hour to kill. THE Girl sitting in front of me. Had to figure out a way to talk to her.

Fate. Destiny. Kismat.

My friend here, had a doctorate in this field of operation. Much experienced. He gave me a few tips.

I struck up a conversation. Hahaha. She was laughing. I was laughing. Both of us were laughing.

Game. Set. Match.

Now the interesting part; we talked about our schools,marks everything. Literally everything!

EXCEPT

Her name.

And number.

Till date, I’m scolded by Mr. Doctorate regarding this.

Ladies and gentlemen, I never got to speak to her again. I would die to speak to her again. My friend tried to find her once the Merit List came out. Went through a thousand Facebook ID’s but to no avail. All I know is her school. Thats it.

Will I ever meet her again?

I honestly don’t know.

Fate. Destiny. Kismat.

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8 comments

  1. Anna you are too good at this .
    Keep it up bro
    This is the first time I’m following someone’s blog and I must admit it – I’m loving it .
    Waiting for some more to come . 😉

    Like

  2. yaar kuch zyada nahi ho gaya ?? velevety voice …her hair black like the night!!…lol dint take u to be a romantic !! 😛 ;P
    chal vaise bhi abh ladki mil gayi na!!…to jaldi aage bhi likh!!

    Liked by 1 person

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