Okay, here comes a guest post. I’m writing a “guest post” on my own blog because I’ve not written for eons and I might not end up writing for eons after this. This post had always been in the pipeline when I was posting frequently, and I thought it deserves to see the light of the day. This is one post where I’m optimistic about getting generous responses from at least my “library friends” because I have a feeling they’ll at once know whom this is about. For the readers who didn’t go to the same library: this post is about a girl who had “possessed” me at that time. Unwittingly, of course. The post is about my attempt at reciprocation—trying to make her my possession. When I write this, I’m going to be as shameless as I normally am. Yet I’m going to try to keep this as generic as possible. I don’t want her to read this and hate me even more (if that's even possible). Okay, let’s call her Rose.
So one day I was fooling around in the library as usual when Rose came walking in that room. That was the day that I saw her for the first time. Ahh, what a sight it was. I have no clue what drew me to her, but something did. “My heart went out to her.” In an instant, I knew that she was the one for me. हो बस अगर तुम हमारे सनम, हम तो सितारों पे रख दें क़दम, is how Majrooh Sultanpuri put it. Now, I'm no Majrooh Sultanpuri, so for me, it was something like the following video:
So now that I had established that this is the girl for me, I thought I should conduct a background check on her. By background check I do not mean the check that they have at airports where they move their hands over your back pockets and say, “sir hum log bum ki checking karte hain”. By background check, I mean finding out where the girl is from, what she is studying, etc. My friend Parikshit and I had a routine of drinking tea at the tapri outside Azad restaurant (overlooking the library) in the evenings. One late evening, Parikshit said he wanted to have tea. I told him to go ahead and that I’d join him at the tapri in a couple of minutes. Just then, Rose got up to leave. I don’t know what got into me, but I left after her. After a while, I realized I was following her! What a creep! Don’t blame me, though. It was my feet that followed her, not me. (much like “my body spake, not I” from The Ballad of Father Gilligan.) So I followed and followed. Through the main road and the lanes and all. Trying to keep myself unsighted by hiding behind the कचरापट्टी and all. In a bid to keep a distance, I lost her after a while. Ah, what was to be done now? “Inquiry” is the word.
By the time I returned, Parikshit had probably finished drinking all the tea in the tapri while he was waiting for me.
Now, as you saw in the previous video, there were already many उम्मीदवारs in the queue for her. I later learnt that half of the library was after her! (BTW, half of the library constitutes all the males.)
So my next aim was to increase my "visibility" by ensuring that I always sat in the same room as Rose. But the library was huge! How was I to walk into each and every room all the time and look where she’s sitting? So I made friends with a library attendant who generally stood at the entrance of the library, ensuring members who came in had their I-cards and made proper entries in the register while checking in. So whenever I would check in, I would ask him, “आली?” he would say “आली.” Now, this became a little confusing because in a hush hush voice, we didn‘t know which “आली” was interrogative and which “आली” was affirmative because the same word doubles up as a question and its answer. (much like “सू करे छे” doubles up as both the question and its answer, at least at specific times.) So we moved on to a much more sophisticated signaling system whose code only he and I knew. So, now when I would check in, my attendant friend would make a special sign, which at once indicated which room she was sitting in, what she was wearing, what she was reading, and a fourth parameter that is unmentionable here. Take a look at a similar demonstration:
Now that I was able to know where she’s sitting from the moment I entered the library, I ensured I always sat at the same table she sat at, preferably in front of her. There were only two things she would now be able to see. Either the pages of her book or my face. I had suddenly become “ubiquitous” to her. Look up and there I was. Go to the canteen and there I was. Go downstairs and there I was. So essentially, barring one place in the library, where I did not have an entry, she would find me in front of her virtually everywhere she went. Much like the video below:
So needless to say I was already dreaming about getting married to Rose. In the preparatory leave that we got before our exam, I was preparing the following speech:
So when we would get married, my friends Satish, Parikshit, and Rohan would perform an exotic baraat dance, preparing her for the ghostliness to come in her life, now that she was married to me. Watch them in action below. (The left one is Rohan, the middle one is Parikshit, and the right one is Satish.)
Okay, okay, I know that by now the readers that know me and Rose will be saying, "enough dreaming, you fool!" and would be wanting to get me out of the dream by doing the following to me:
Okay, okay, कोई बात नहीं चीते, सितारों से आगे जहाँ और भी हैं.