Posted in Love, Break up and Coffee

Love, break up and coffee: Chapter one

That’s what I do on a boring Saturday. Tube light moment! The idea struck and here I am with a rom-com kinda candy floss romance penned quite easily. We are set for a mini-novella, hinging between four to six chapters, depending on my mood. Let me take you in my imaginary love world of mushiness and hope you enjoy the outing. What played in my mind was a spooky story set in Shimla and a romance flowed!



Anything can happen..over ticklish hearts and coffee…

What God must have thought before designing girls and sending them on earth?”, I shudder at this thought. She lay on bed, beside me, wrapped her naked body on the white sheet as her gold colored curly hair spread on her face. She is sensuous yet one can never know when she will jump with joy, throw the birthday cake on my face in a fit of rage or just explode. On a rainy day, she may not pick up my frantic calls or messages, shooting up, “Oh! Sorry! I was in lecture and was sitting at the chocolate shop on FC Road with my besties and couldn’t tweak my fingers to reply back.” She says with a killer smile on her face.

When I dare to ignore one silly message, no wait, not message but her stupid erotic forwards, I am met with scorn on her face, inside the apartment. She rings the bell and walk straight in the room, staring at my face with I-Don’t-Know-U-Jerk-Don’t-Speak-To-Me kinda expression, as she flung the lap-top on the bed and banging the door. I press with, ‘What happened, baby?” She shows her middle finger, “Don’t you dare, Babe Me! As it is, I don’t speak to insensitive people who feign ignorance at my messages when they are whining their time, boozing to glory with their stupid good for nothing doers, they call friends at Apache.”

Meet Anumrita, my kinda girl friend who goes incommunicado, in a blink-and-miss appearances who will simply wane into oblivion for days in their best pal apartments. Live-in relationship? It would be a misnomer to say we stay together, cuddle on the bed, fake orgasm to have sex in the blue coated room, that she spent a fortune to paint. What’s up with the huge Cristiano Ronaldo posters adorning the wall and Donald Duck wall papers that she finds cute? It makes me laugh to no end when the mood creeps in to have fun at Anumrita’s expense who is not in the loop of my time pass antis. Or, the cute, pink shade coating in the room with a design of a girl in the town Pink Villa, sitting on the pink grass-not green-that’s her idea.

Anumrita Singh, that’s her name. Long tresses at times but mostly, curly golden hues hair, swearing by Shah Rukh Khan and DDLJ, MBA-wali in the making. What did I thought before asking her out in the busy cafe at Prabhat Road? It was weird and guess I went mad, going berserk at her super attractive looks and wearing shorts on Reebok shoes. I found her super hot  when I shouldn’t coz being dressed in short and pink tee plus sports shoes, she looked more like the descendant of Sania Mirza and the half-blood sister of Deepika Padukone saving the legacy of tennis in the household. Yet, she is more Deepika type than her glorious father.

What started off as a fling and one night-stand kinda sex romp led to so many things nothing less than a Chetan Bhagat type a rom-com drama or romance on silver screen. Films always have an influenced on us, she’s the mushy mushy type and I am the serious cinema kinda guy. After all, I am a film-making student in the peaceful FTTI green campus in Pune? To say, we watched Love Aaj Kal together before she dragged me out of FTTI small hostel room as we moved in the expensive apartment at Prabhat Road.

Flash Back:

Six months ago:

I am fiddling with my old cum modest Nokia cellphone whose rightful place would be in a museum of sort or the worse option, the garbage trunk inside the smoking zone at Cafe Coffee Day. I order for a Moccha and a muffin, gleaning over the morning headlines on Times of India. It’s 9.30 a.m and love sitting here, a walk away from FTII.  Aaram se! I can read the paper, drink my coffee and smoke to heaven. But, it wasn’t meant to be especially when a super attractive chick walks in to snatch away my morning joy.

I find myself utterly distracted and fidgeting with my phone and pen, almost on the verge of a nervous break down. ‘By God! Who makes such beautiful women! Curly tresses, caressing and twisting her hair locks and so what, she’s all dressed like Sania Mirza. I mean, who wear short and Reebok to walk in a cafe. What’s missing is a racket and a tennis ball!

I smile and took a drag of my favorite cigarette, Wills classic mild as my eyes scout the latest gossip on Pune Times. Somebody yelled out to distract me away from the latest filmy gossips, “Hey! Can you pass me over the Pune Times! No wait! Acha! You smoke…….”

I gotta thank my stars and she’s making her moves, as I get ready for gyaan on why smoking is bad, she must be a sports woman, I am sure with her Reebok shoes and white short. I brace myself as I am ready to part away from my Pune Times.

Her mellifluous voice as sweet as the cuckoo and her shadow walks in style towards my table. She smiles seductive and offers me a tight handshake: “Hi, I am Anumrita. Let me join you and we can have a smoke together. I am sure you getting bored, sitting alone. Let’s chat for a while.” I couldn’t help notice her flawless skin and beautiful fingers as our hands met, ensconced into each other. ‘Thank you, Mummy’, I am feeling like Anwar oops Uday Chopra in Dhoom.

The coffee tray arrives and Anumrita ordered two coffees, one for me, her special treat, she says, for killing her boredom and giving her company on a hot, sunny morning in Pune. Lil’ did I realize I would start with some lame jokes, flurry of fun converso bonding over coffee as if we know each other for ages and her making faces coupled with a coy face, silly banter cum cute childish expressions.




Work-in-progress, seeker and bundle of contradictions. Stubborn and Refusal to grow up and constantly in search of myself, I blurt it out on my space. Drop in and share some love. Indian by choice.

6 thoughts on “Love, break up and coffee: Chapter one

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