It happens to everyone, or so I’m told. And if I am to be of the persuasion that authors who have toiled to reassure themselves that their feelings of estrangement towards erstwhile loved ones aren’t unfounded I surely would be betraying originality, wouldn’t I?
I would be. But life has a strange way of making one realise that everything that transpires in one's lifetime, has already been experienced, analysed and brought bliss or sorrow to countless individuals before us. It is only once the novelty of any such incident has worn off that one begins to compare their feelings and emotions with those described by others. Perhaps, knowing that we arent alone in our happiness, sorrow or disappointment helps us pull ourselves together and move on.
Today, I am writing about one such instance. A couple of months ago, I met this wonderful gal; she is smart, driven, doing really well at work and sports an hourglass figure too. Perfect Situation. Over the past couple of months I hung out with her and we were an instant click. We'd hang out after work, several days a week. Spent a lot of time on the phone when I was travelling.
One day she told me that she loves surprises. That she's always hoped that someone would send her flowers and letters anonymously. And I thought gals thought such stalker-like activities were creepy and non-kosher. So what did I do next?
What is a simple thinking man like me to do? Like a complete dumb-ass I sent Gauhar flowers, anonymously. I followed up with letters, anonymously. With full knowledge of the compliments that she would respond to, I made those letters a tinderbox for the self concious, attention-seeking gal I knew G to be.
Within a few weeks of doing this, I saw a change in her. She was irritable, often mentioning how the two of us didn't have as much fun as we used to. Temper tantrums, mood swings - I was being domestically abused for no plausible reason. So one day, I took it upon myself to tell G like a man, that I wasnt having anymore of her whims. She'd better get back control of her emotions or we would call it quits.
When I delivered this ultimatum G was honest enough to admit that she was receiving communications from an anonymous person, and after much research she had narrowed it down to this one guy who lived in her building; Martin. And it was time for her to tell Martin that she had a crush on him too.
When I heard this, I was amused and annoyed at the same time. While I felt like laughing out loud at G and telling her how she'd had fooled herself, I was disappointed and felt that I was a victim of infidelity. This called for payback...
That night as I drove back from her apartment at Park La Brea, I told myself that I must never again talk to G again. Unfortunately, she had infiltrated my group of friends, and this was going to be hard. Its been six weeks since.
As coincidence would have it, I saw her last night at LAX when getting on my flight. The customary hug and exchange of pleasantries. There were 20 minutes on the clock, and I needed caffiene, so we went to Starbucks in Terminal 5 and got our drinks. A almond soy latte for her and a blackberry green tea frap for me.
She had finally figured it out. She felt violated, but thought it was cute at the same time. She wanted to give "us" another shot. Those were the highlights. I had 10 minutes to board and so off I went.
But, when I saw her at the airport, there was this strange feeling. Sitting before her, looking at her eyes and beautiful hair. Her shadow under the lighting. Here was this very familiar gal who seemed to have donned a stranger's face. Last night I had flashback of her from a time when we hung out, but she had no face, no head, just a torso. It was eerie, irksome and plain weird.
I have been thinking about what I my next move should be. I've consulted my inner circle of PUAs and girlfriends for an opinion. I've asked God to lend me a hand here. Afterall its Ramadhan, I'm doing the 5 daily prostrations and keeping myself hungry and thirsty.
Gauhar, we walk different paths. Sorry sweetheart!
I would be. But life has a strange way of making one realise that everything that transpires in one's lifetime, has already been experienced, analysed and brought bliss or sorrow to countless individuals before us. It is only once the novelty of any such incident has worn off that one begins to compare their feelings and emotions with those described by others. Perhaps, knowing that we arent alone in our happiness, sorrow or disappointment helps us pull ourselves together and move on.
Today, I am writing about one such instance. A couple of months ago, I met this wonderful gal; she is smart, driven, doing really well at work and sports an hourglass figure too. Perfect Situation. Over the past couple of months I hung out with her and we were an instant click. We'd hang out after work, several days a week. Spent a lot of time on the phone when I was travelling.
One day she told me that she loves surprises. That she's always hoped that someone would send her flowers and letters anonymously. And I thought gals thought such stalker-like activities were creepy and non-kosher. So what did I do next?
What is a simple thinking man like me to do? Like a complete dumb-ass I sent Gauhar flowers, anonymously. I followed up with letters, anonymously. With full knowledge of the compliments that she would respond to, I made those letters a tinderbox for the self concious, attention-seeking gal I knew G to be.
Within a few weeks of doing this, I saw a change in her. She was irritable, often mentioning how the two of us didn't have as much fun as we used to. Temper tantrums, mood swings - I was being domestically abused for no plausible reason. So one day, I took it upon myself to tell G like a man, that I wasnt having anymore of her whims. She'd better get back control of her emotions or we would call it quits.
When I delivered this ultimatum G was honest enough to admit that she was receiving communications from an anonymous person, and after much research she had narrowed it down to this one guy who lived in her building; Martin. And it was time for her to tell Martin that she had a crush on him too.
When I heard this, I was amused and annoyed at the same time. While I felt like laughing out loud at G and telling her how she'd had fooled herself, I was disappointed and felt that I was a victim of infidelity. This called for payback...
That night as I drove back from her apartment at Park La Brea, I told myself that I must never again talk to G again. Unfortunately, she had infiltrated my group of friends, and this was going to be hard. Its been six weeks since.
As coincidence would have it, I saw her last night at LAX when getting on my flight. The customary hug and exchange of pleasantries. There were 20 minutes on the clock, and I needed caffiene, so we went to Starbucks in Terminal 5 and got our drinks. A almond soy latte for her and a blackberry green tea frap for me.
She had finally figured it out. She felt violated, but thought it was cute at the same time. She wanted to give "us" another shot. Those were the highlights. I had 10 minutes to board and so off I went.
But, when I saw her at the airport, there was this strange feeling. Sitting before her, looking at her eyes and beautiful hair. Her shadow under the lighting. Here was this very familiar gal who seemed to have donned a stranger's face. Last night I had flashback of her from a time when we hung out, but she had no face, no head, just a torso. It was eerie, irksome and plain weird.
I have been thinking about what I my next move should be. I've consulted my inner circle of PUAs and girlfriends for an opinion. I've asked God to lend me a hand here. Afterall its Ramadhan, I'm doing the 5 daily prostrations and keeping myself hungry and thirsty.
Gauhar, we walk different paths. Sorry sweetheart!
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