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Romance Fiction: Boyzz like to swing


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‘Boyzz like to swing..’She stopped the song on i-phone. “Have I heard right,” She wondered. What on earth is wrong with the record and the song? The female voice turning into an alpha male coarse voice. She was convinced that she has gone bonkers on the busy street.

She looked up to the slim, tall and handsome figure who stood unfazed as her face’s texture changed from chirpy, cheerful and clueless to aghast. Seething with anger, she was hell bent to give it to him, “Hello!! Dickhead! You think it’s funny to sing in this silly voice into my ears. Are you some obnoxious jerk who is useless and unemployed? Somehow, she controlled her emotion and spoke in a calm  voice, unbecoming of the angry young woman image she is famous among her friends.

“Excuse me,” She asked.

“You are excused,” he flirted shamelessly.

“Can I borrow a pen…You were ensnared by the music and what better way to make it a duet that boys like to swing. You don’t believe boys like to swing!!”

Now, this out-of-the-blue conversation was getting ridiculous. She made a straight face, “Of all the people, you almost scared the shit out of me and almost blasted my ears by singing just to ask me a pen. Are you kidding me?” She fumbles through her hand bag to get hold of a pen.

“A pink will do. I need to write your phone number and name, Ma’am,” he winked.

She was amused and kept walking, her flowery dress flowing with the gentle breeze. He walked alongside,”Why the need to be offended! There is a coffee shop on the way. How about two strangers, alone in the city, getting to know each other..over coffee.”

She grinned. He showed her the way with his hand wide open, trying a Shah Rukh Khan trade mark style and opened his arms. “Try me out!! I mean, I have good taste for coffee. Two capuccino,” he ordered the waiter.

“Hello!” She shouted, “Who the fuck are you? Now, you deciding the coffee flavor I gotta drink.” She called out to the waiter, “Capuccino please.”

“Aha! See, my lady. I don’t like to praise myself. Let me check with the ladies if I am a good..” Ladies! He shouted.

She slapped him playfully, “Shut up! Will you!”

“So!” She smiles seductively.

“The word so is uttered sexily when someone feels that she is going to fall in love. The killer smile and sensual gaze will kill me and singing boys like to swing is a pick up line that fades in comparison to the so! Oh! sexually pronounced,” he teased.

She cut him short, gently whispering in his ears, “Payal! Catch me if you can.” Scampering to the exit door, she rushed inside a metallic grey Skoda screeching away in full speed.


It was past midnight. The bar was deserted. Manav ordered an Irish coffee and lit his cigarette. It was his third cup and didn’t realize that in no time he shifted from Latte to Irish coffee. He suddenly went blank and dark encapsulated him in the dimly lit pub, feeling dizzy and almost collapsed. Gathering his wits, Manav realized that he was hit by something that jerked him and blood oozed on his lip. It was a book flung on his face. She inched, thrust her body towards him and their cheeks stroke each other.

Payal pulled closer and smacked the blood with her lip on the upper part of his mouth. He was stunned and his eyes was fixed on her green sari with sequined gold brocade. “Shocked,” she remarked.

He innocently said “I am admiring your sari. I mean, I am not been sitting here just to dream that would land up one day to hit me with my penned book.”

“Well! I am impressed you wrote a book and dedicated it to me. Did you have an inkling I’ll fish for you? I am no Devdasi looking for some modern day Devdas, getting high on Irish coffee,”Payal pinched his cheek.

She amusingly said: “Are you thinking that I am some sort of enigma that pops in and out like in fairy tale? I am no cinderella for fuck sake or some damsel in distress longing for her Knight in shining armor.”

He blurted out  “You must be a vampire who loves to suck blood from my mouth.”

She sexily dropped her pallu,  “Did I blow your mind that you wrote a rom-com novel on me and you, imagining that we kissed and make up?” She snuggled against his knee.

“Baby! Should I call you that?” Payal spoke in hushed tone. “Aren’t you invited me to your house?”

“For what?” he asked, “Coffee.”

They laughed. “I wanna crack you raw like the coffee bean.”

The end








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.

16 thoughts on “Romance Fiction: Boyzz like to swing

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