Expectations

(short story. comments welcome.)

He sat there, staring into nothingness.

All that had happened was nothing less than 'life-altering' for him.

He had met her at the café. Introduced to him by a friend, she had a similar day-job in the nearby office. He had smiled at her in the past, and they had exchanged greetings, but never took another serious look at each other.

One day they happened to share the same table, and conversations took off. Was it just a one-off instance? They started meeting more often at the same table. The waitress now used to place their order even before they could be comfortable in their chairs. She would carry a pink-colored post-it notes diary along with her. She would scribble, draw randomly on it, and sometimes write appreciation for waitress along with the check.

Their personalities were different, and different to such an extent that it was inevitable they got interested in each other.

She had been through years of good and bad relationships. She joked about the number of boys in her life - nobody but she knew the actual number. She exuded confidence in what she had learned from mistakes in her life, and knew the kind of person she was.

He hadn't had a single romantic relationship in his life, except for countless crushes and 'interests'. For him it was a work-home routine for several years, and he just waited for that 'someone' to meet him someday. Slightly introvert, slightly extrovert, silent, talkative - he himself didn't know who the real 'him' was.

He was book-smart. She was street-smart.
As theory goes, both kind of 'smarts' need each other in the world.

As time moved on, their conversations grew mature - into arguments and debates. They both loved it. No topic on earth was untouched, and they both were good at dissecting every controversy doing rounds in news.

One day, he dared it for the first time in his life. He brought her a rose, got down on his knees (ignoring the ten café workers looking at him without a blink), and asked for her acceptance to their new relationship. She smiled. They both had won each other.

It had taken him some time to think about it. She was a 'been-there-done-that' when it came to relationships. He was a romance novice. What would he do? What was the right way to start a relationship with this wonderful lady? She had hinted about her night-adventures with boys in the past. Wouldn't she expect him to be aggressively good in romance and in bed? He had been thinking about it for a couple of days. What sort of 'boyfriend' should he be?

He decided to rise up to the 'challenge'. He would show her he was not a 'nice boy sissy'. He would match up to her expectations from her boyfriend.

The next evening, they walked past his house. He lived alone. No proximity to a close friend was probably one of the reasons he sometimes felt so emotionally empty. Was this one of the reasons why he grew so fond of her chatter so easily? He wouldn't think of all that. This was the evening to think of other possibilities.

He asked her if she wanted to hear him playing something on the guitar.
She smiled and nodded enthusiastically. They went inside, and he placed her comfortably on the bed while he sat there with his six-string on a chair. He played, and he played it well.

He also had something else on his mind this night. He moved closer to her, placing his head on her lap. She didn't object. He moved his fingers across her hair and pulled her towards him. They kissed. They had had it earlier, but this kiss was long. So long that she noticed his hands moving across her chest and trying to fondle with the flesh. She continued to kiss, and slowly pushed off his exploring hands.

"That's her way to tease", he thought. His hands tried again. This time, he felt a deep breath coming towards him. Then it stopped.

It was as if she was trying to stop time to think.

But he didn't have any time to waste; he had planned the evening. His hands continued to explore more of her body. She suddenly moved away. Startled, he looked at her. She looked directly into his eyes, trying to figure something out.

Then, she smiled.

Her arms were wide open. He somehow knew the signal. He stretched for the switch and turned out the lights.

He woke up early morning. He had enjoyed being close to her last night. She was the person he had been searching all along. It was not the physical satisfaction of intimacy, but the emotional connection he made with her. He wanted to tell her a lot more about things - everything. If there was one thing he wanted now, it was to be with her.

He looked, and she was not lying beside him. "Must have been to the washroom", he thought, while looking for his jeans by the bed side. Stuck to his jeans pocket he found a note.

A pink-colored post-it note.

It said, "Thought you would be different - someone I was looking for. Someone who would want the real me; someone who would care for much more than this body. I'm sorry, that didn't happen. I hope you match someone's expectations. All the best."

He sat there, staring into nothingness.

The best for him

(short story. comments welcome.)

She woke up, sweaty. It was 3 'o clock in the morning. Shikha knew it wasn't the Van Helsing she read the last night. Something else had been keeping her awake since last weekend. She revisited the sequence of events.

Friday evening:
"Heyyyy...", she exclaimed. She spotted him. Along with him, was his new girlfriend. The girlfriend was well-dressed for the occasion; she was about to meet his boyfriend's best friend, who happened to be a pretty dame called Shikha.

"This would be the eleventh lady", Shikha sighed to herself.

That they chose The Reverence for dinner was not an arbitrary decision. He always called Shikha up to meet his new girlfriends at the same restrobar. He loved the place. Probably she did too, but he never asked.

She recalled the first time she met him through a common friend, at the same place. He was a lovable guy - macho, nice, and would have got any girl he wanted badly. But he didn't want Shikha. They became very close friends, and he made best use of her good 'personality judgment' (as he would call it) to evaluate his girlfriends. He would call her every month to meet his new girlfriend for dinner. They would talk about everything in the world, and in the end she would pass her verdict.

Typically the verdict would be announced over a phone call. That call would decide whether he would break up with the girl the same night, or continue to see her more for some days.

She marveled at how every time he managed to get a girl with a distinct persona.
And he would tell her later, "Did you notice the way she talks?" "I love the way she talks about all types of cuisine.", and she would nod.

He was leaving for foreign waters the next day. She wondered whether he had told the girlfriend about it yet.

She talked to the girl - about Hermione of Harry Potter, about Mandy Moore of A Walk to Remember, and about Dominique of The Fountainhead. The girl had no clue about any.

She switched topics to politics, golf, and stock market.

The 'girlfriend' just hogged and sipped wine while Shikha and he discussed hundreds of topics for another hour.

He knew what she was going to say. Still, he called Shikha while driving the girl back home.

"So.....?", was the rhetorical question.
"Are you crazy? What made you think about this girl? She's not even good enough to fake intelligence, let alone have any.", she almost shouted into the phone.
"Okay", he disconnected, and planned how to break up the same night. He was good at it now.

He got an early morning flight to catch, and the new girl did not know about it yet anyways.

Saturday Early Morning:

He had been waiting for an hour to see if she would come to see him off. There was no trace, and her cell phone wasn't responding. Then he caught a glimpse of her in the crowd. He ran back and hugged her.

They didn't say anything else for a while.

He started, "You never figured out what kind of girl I am looking for, did you?"
He had a smile, the fake one, she recognized.

She was startled by the question. She recovered quickly, and responded, "Not the ones that were, for sure. Not your types."

"Do you know why you were the person I wanted them to meet?"

"...hmm...because you trust me to know what's best for you?"

"I know who's best for me. And I know I am not the best for her. I never told her."

"Interesting. So why did you make all those girls meet me?"

"Now they all know who's the best for me."

He didn't say anything else. He turned and walked slowly towards the flight security check.
He didn't look back.
She didn't call him.

The Nice New Guy Blog

Bienvenue! Welcome!

This is the first-ever post on this blog by a self-obsessed author (you've figured that out already).

Here is something about the person you're reading:

• Conversant in English, French, Hindi, and a couple more Indian languages
  
• Posts in English. Mostly.
• Has covered more than a quarter of the 100 years he'll live if he gives up the occasional drinking and smoking
• Won't give up the above two favorite past-times unless he wants to live up to 100, or he gets a girlfriend who nags and insists on quitting
  
• The above two conditions may not meet at all
• Has bought almost every book worth reading
• Hasn't taken the time out to read many of them
• Is now making an effort to read and enjoy the unread titles
• Is good at speed-reading
  
• Considers himself a movie buff
• Is not really one
• Is working on making himself one
• Is good at predicting movie ends
• Likes to travel
  
• With friends
• Alone
• With strangers
• Does not like people who are not informed
  
• What's happening all around
• About the philosophies of life (you need to have one or more favorites)
• About the fun part in life
• About the self part in life
• Believes that he needs emotional, sexual, and motivational support from ladies, but
  
• Does not fall for every nice (or bad) lady
  
• Believes in fidelity once attached
• Knows that he has to take care of himself in life and not be dependent upon anyone
• Is looking for the girl who believes in the 3 above, and is looking for him too!
• Loves Music
• But does not claim to be a music buff
• And likes to play, but not sing
• Loves Photography
• And still not too good at it
  
• Too particular about the cologne he wears
• And the shades of his belt and shoes
  
• Doesn't like wearing a pink tie
• Unless in a really bad mood
• Knows his martial art skills
  
• And how much he still doesn't know!
  
• Likes to be honest
• With friends
• With family
• With girlfriends
• With mentors
  
• Has done his part of 'faking' in this world, and is done with it
  
• Is overall a Nice Guy
• And knows that Nice Guys Finish Last
• But knows that he won't be yet another loser