Chetan called me over the weekend and asked if he could drop by for a few drinks. I was in no mood to go anywhere out, so I said yes. He reached around 8 in the night, and by then I had arranged everything—I mean booze, Chakhna, dinner, Marlboro lights, etc.
After a few drinks, I asked Chetan how he had spent his Valentine’s Day. This probe got Chetan a little emotional, and he said, “I was working as it was a Tuesday and in the evening I watched documentaries s on the life of Shoaib Akhtar, Ricky Pointing, Waseem Akram and Brian Lara.”
Chetan was a state level cricket player, and it was his dream to play for India, but middle-class parents, you know how they are and how much value they accord to dreams. His father asked him to tilt entire focus from the game to studies, and that was the end of it.
Now Chetan was one of those guys who would avoid talking to girls because he was shy. I don’t remember seeing him talking to any girls at school—it was not the girls didn’t like him, they adored him for the splendid spells he bowled in the inter-school championships. I used to tell him that you should indulge yourself in a normal conversation with a girl, I mean get a good opening line and just begin but he laughed and said, “This is not the time bro”.
While Chetan was pouring the fourth drink, I asked him, “Bro tell me do you still think that the right time hasn’t arrived when you should begin talking to girls.” He gushed and said, “I recently tried a week before the valentine’s day. The girl is my colleague, and she sits next to me. We would once in a while have a conversation about music or sports, but then I don’t know I felt inside a gust of feelings and I expressed it all to her. Dude whatever I said, to that she replied, tell me something new, I have heard this from my ex, that guy, that guy. So after she had tormented me this way for three good days, I told her you might have heard what I say to you from your ex and blah blah, but I am saying all these things for the first time. Bro, I seriously hate these cheesy bastards who just make girls fall in the trap by pretending to be innocent and lovy-dovy and then we –the real honest guys suffer as our words and expression have already been stolen and used.
I sighed and said, “Bro it’s true, chuck it. Let’s talk something else.” Chetan, pouring the fifth drink now said, “Can you please play that song Apun Bola Tu Meri Laila from the movie Josh. I don’t know why I feel like hearing it”
I said, “Yes bro, yes!”