FORBIDDEN LOVE STORY - Part - 7

Forbidden love story

A short story accentuating “fake love tradition”

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Part-7

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continued from part 6.....................

(click here for reading part - 6)
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But what the hell…… It had broken down into pieces. The large “resistive touch screen” was cracked. My smart phone is not that smart, I thought. It had become futile. I took out the SIM card and trashed the phone into bin.

Next day, I called up Ajay, with my newly owned phone, not a smart phone this time though, for congratulating him. But the real motive behind the call was something else, something obvious. He was in Patna itself, probably busy in marriage preparation. The call was formal and quick, provided he was busy, he was in roaming and he was my senior too. The marriage was scheduled on 3rd August, about 20 days from today. I was cordially invited in the wedding ceremony. The wedding of my own girlfriend and my best friend. Damn!!!

I called up Abhishek, one of my fast friends, whom I once owed 7000 bucks which he never cared to return back. We are buddies since our early childhood since our school days when we used to wear half pants in school. Back in school we shared a same crush, Ms. SANJANA, for few months. Later, I switched over to other girls while he had made her his permanent crush, and if I am no wrong, she must have his crush till date. Though he never gathers enough courage to let her know. Asshole.

After High school, he went to Delhi for claimingly higher studies while I opt for Diploma from our very own city. Although, his higher studies never happened to be higher and he end up with meager  58% marks in 10+2 examination, that’s too from CBSE. Bloody loser. He then waited for a year (usually they call it drop year, but he never meant that) and finally got into some not-that-great govt. engineering college down there in Delhi itself. His college is affiliated to some random University which he always used to curse it. Although, he  is an unwilling backlog collector but ironically never fails to blame his university, his college, and the Indian education system for his poor performance  in academics.

He picked answered my call in very first attempt which was as surprising as the news of betrayal of my girlfriend. Usually it takes him months to talk to me, every time at my expenses. He never phoned me. And even if he does, it was either for financial help or seeking any other kind of favor. Though, I never mind it anyway. He was one of the very rare friends who knew “bit” about my secret relationship with Kritika. He pretended to sound shocked on listening it, although I knew him better than anyone else. He must have been faking. Guys like him never give a shit about this kind of problem. But still, I had got to share my grief with someone. And this someone list limits up to only two friends: Abhishek and Pankaj. As Pankaj was busy enough to take my call, I had to call Abhishek, which I knew would never help anyway.

He surprisingly consoled me. He said that Ajay, the groom-to be is going to take your “leftover”, so I must not give a fuck about that. I wondered how he comes up with these compensatory philosophies in life. He was too cool to sound sophisticated. But it is human nature to instantly become an expert in others’ problem, there is nothing surprising in this. Nevertheless, talking to him had reduced my yearning up to a considerable extent.

Although I had felt like cheated, but had to bit my tongue over our relationship. I couldn’t tell this to anybody else. I just decided to close my heart doors for another girl except one which my parents would choose for me. This misogynist version of mine though, wouldn’t going to help mending my past but hopefully it will evit any future grief of this kind.

Ajay and Kritika are married now, living happily in the same colony. Their flat is few meters away from mine which only add up daily enviety in me. Her father has been transferred to somewhere in Madhya Pradesh. I deliberately trying harder to get myself transferred, anywhere away from this place to avoid seeing her face, her feeling ever again. May god bless me and make my life as awesome as it was used to be before meeting this girl, as soon as possible.

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Well, this story should not end up like this. At our chromosomal level, we all are devised to love the stories with happy endings only. What’s the point of reading a story when there is no happy ending? Stories are never intended to make the readers curse the author for leaving them at a point when they are least expected to be.

But this is not a story exactly; it’s a tragedy in a real life of one of my fast friend. Although, this story is forged considerably to make it readable but happy ending is way too manipulating.

Thank you all for reading this story… err…. tragedy despite of these pesky grammatical errors and typos.

Wishing best for his future….

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