It was a lovely December morning in the hottest city in the world. Allright, so that was a little unfair. Chennai is not the hottest city inthe world. But it certainly is the city with the most uncomfortableweather among the cities that I have lived in. And I've been around. ButI digress. I was in the company bus on my way to work, as usual trying to catch upwith my sleep. On this particular day, a girl got on the bus, came to myseat and sat down. "Good Morning," she said. I looked back at herthrough half closed eyes, replied "Good Night," and then proceeded toreturn to my half hour nap before the bus reached the office.Unfortunately, I was woken up by a punch in the arm. "Wake up, bozo!" She was looking at me with a big smile on her face."I'm not sitting next to you to listen to you snore." Half-heartedly, I opened my eyes and turned to her. "What's up?" Iasked. Preeti Mehra was tall, good-looking and slightly tomboyish. She was alsomy best buddy. "Come on," she said. "Don't look so disappointed. You'drather sleep than talk to me?" "I talk to you everyday, Preeti." "You also sleep everyday." "It's not enough." "So you've had enough of talking to me, eh?" You can't argue with a statement like that, so I had to give up. Igrinned and said, "OK, sweetheart. What's on your mind?" "I wanted to tell you what happened yesterday. Can you guess?" "Anurag called you last night." "How did you know?" She was stunned. "Oh, he asked me for your number yesterday." "And you gave it to him?" "What else could I do? And stop complaining. You've been drooling overhim for weeks now. He must have thought he had a chance." Preeti was the kind of girl who would openly ogle at every other guy shesaw. And yet, she would not respond to any advances of a romanticnature. She'd happily join a group of boys to go to a cricket match, butif asked out to a movie, dinner, or even coffee, she'd never say yes.She defined 'Hard-To-Get'. "You like putting me in these situations, don't you?" she said. "No. That's not true. I love putting you in these situations!" That invited another punch in the arm. I had known Preeti for a year. We'd tell each other about our joys andour sorrows, our victories and our defeats. I'd tell her about all mycrushes and she'd scold me for being silly. She'd drag me to classicalmusic concerts and I'd add them to the list of things she 'owed me' for. And though I never let it show, I must say that she punched pretty hard. ~*~It was 12:00 am and my phone was ringing. "Hello," I said, as I pickedit up. "Happy Birthday!" It was she. "You're supposed to throw me a surprise party, sweetheart. Not just callto say Happy Birthday." "Well then open your door, dumbo!" So I did and found her, cell-phone in hand, at my doorstep -- with whatseemed like half the population of my company. My roommates weresupposed to be working late that night. Now I knew why. I blew a lot of candles (seemed like much more than 25), cut my cake,got kicked in the behind, and got painted with the cake's icing. IfPreeti had had her way, she'd probably have preferred to use apaintbrush and a can of paint. But I bribed her with a copy of the book"Lord of the Rings". She'd borrowed it from me three times already. Ithought it was about time I gave her a copy for herself. We chatted for an hour after everyone had gone. "I think it's time Ileft," she said finally, trying to stifle a yawn. I nodded. I droppedher home in my roommate's car. As she was getting out of the car, Istopped her. "Hey, Preeti." "What?" "Thanks." "Hey, don't get senti on me now!" she smiled. "Are you trying to wormout of that gift you promised me?" "You know, it's interesting how I'm getting you a gift on my birthday." "That's just because you're stupid," she grinned. "And you better get methat book, or I won't return your copy." "Hey, that copy was a gift to me from my dear friend Preeti Mehra. Ican't let you keep that." She wasn't falling for that. "Your dear friend? And what about me? Am Inot dear to you?" "Very smart. That won't work with me. I'm not one of your Love Crazysuitors. Why do you need the book anyway? You've read it umpteen timesalready." "That is besides the point. You are getting me the book. We both knowthat." She smiled that wide confident smile of hers. "Good night." Andshe got out of the car. I sat there for some time, just thinking. Our conversations were alwayslike this – a little joking, a little teasing and a lot of demanding.But somehow, I felt that something had changed since the moment she hadturned up at my door that night. I was still in my reverie when a paperball landed on the windshield. I craned my neck out of the window andlooked up. She was standing in her balcony. "What are you still doing there?" she whispered loudly. "Waiting for you to start a paper-ball fight," I whispered back. "We can do that tomorrow. Go home now. It's way past your bedtime!" "Ok, mommy," I grinned back. "I'm going home now!" ~*~I'm an extravagant gift-giver, and it is definitely going to be mydownfall some day. I made her wait for it, but finally bought her thebook. That, and half-a-dozen other omnibus collections of variousauthors, including a copy each of `The Complete Works of Shakespeare'and `The Complete Short Stories of Charles Dickens'. All I got for itwas an "I told you so." I started spending a lot of time at her place after that. Mostly becauseI wanted to read all those books, and she wouldn't lend them to me. "I'm not as stupid as you, ape-man. I'm not falling into the same trap Ilaid for you. Plus, you dog-ear your books. You're not doing that tothese masterpieces. So if you want to read them, you read them here. Andif you want to mark your place, use a bookmark." So that's what I did. She'd even make me wash my hands before I touchedthe books. It was as if they were sacred. "Need I remind you that it was me that bought you the books in the firstplace? For my birthday!" "So? They're mine now." "Well, then. I've been meaning to ask you this for a long time. Whereexactly is my birthday gift?" "It was in your tummy at one point of time. It's probably been washedinto the sea by now." "Huh?" "Remember the cake I baked you on your birthday?" "You what? You can't bake cakes!" That was a mistake. She looked hurt."You baked me a cake?" She didn't say a word. She just shrugged. I was stunned. "But you never told me." "You didn't ask." That was typical of her. "It was fantastic! And you wasted most of the icing on me!" "The cake was for you, dumbo." "How long did it take you to make the whole thing?" It had been atwo-layered vanilla-chocolate cake with three flavors of very creamyicing. She had done all that! "Well, the chocolate cake took an hour and fifteen minutes, and so didthe vanilla. Then cutting them up and putting them together took another15 minutes. Each flavor of icing took 20 minutes for preparation, andthen putting it on the cake took another half hour. Cleaning up the messtook an hour." She seldom claimed the credit for anything, but once she startedbragging, there was no stopping her. However, I wasn't thinking aboutthat right then. "You spent over five hours on that cake?" "A little over four hours preparing it, and an hour cleaning up. Yes." I was speechless. I didn't know how to react. She hated cooking. "I forgot to mention," she continued, "the hours I spent the week beforethat, practicing. Even the birds wouldn't touch the first three cakes!" I couldn't help but ask. "Why?" "Because the first one got burnt, the second one was only half cooked,and in the third one, I forgot to add sugar." It was just like her, to try to divert the conversation. "I mean why didyou spend so much time on baking me a cake?" She looked at me like I'd asked her why the sun rises in the east. "Foryour birthday, stupid. Of course, I also wanted to beat every giftyou've ever got me. Try beating this one." She was grinning like she'dwon the world championship. As far as I was concerned, she had. I'd never spent a week making heranything. I'd never even spent an hour making her anything. Getting hera gift normally involved me taking her to the store, letting her chooseand use my credit card. Suddenly, I felt cheap. "Thanks," was the onlything I could say. "Thanks a lot." "Hey. Are you getting senti on me again?" I was. ~*~I was still mulling over my feelings for Preeti the next day at workwhen my boss asked to speak to me. I went over to his cabin and he started with the usual greetings, askinghow work was going and whether I was comfortable. He then told me thatthe company wanted to send me to New York for a couple of years.Normally, this wouldn't have made much of a difference to me. I couldwork anywhere and didn't have too much love for visiting places foreign.But right then, the first thought that came to me was that I'd be awayfrom Preeti for two whole years. Twenty-four hours before, I'd have beendisappointed to lose her company. But right then, I was devastated. Thatwas when I knew I was in love with her. I'd had crushes before. Lots ofthem. But this was different. "Do you have any problem in going?" my boss asked, since I hadn'tresponded. "Not really," I replied. What else could I say? That I was in love, andcouldn't bear the separation? "When do I have to leave?" I had a month. ~*~"Wow! New York! Great! I've heard it's a fantastic city! Did you know itsnows there in winter?" Preeti was obviously very excited about mygoing. She didn't seem to share my disappointment on what I now saw as'separation'. I had not decided then if I was going to tell her how I felt. We'd knowneach other for a little over a year, and we were very close, but beyondsome mild flirting, the relationship had never got even close toromantic. That was, of course, until I found out she had spent a weekbaking me a cake. It's funny how small things seem to make such a bigdifference. "What happened?" she asked. "You don't seem very happy." "Oh," I replied, "it's just that it's so sudden, that's all. And youknow I was never all that interested in going to America." "What an idiot. Go see the place. I've heard the women there areamazingly beautiful." She had a sly smile on her face. I wanted to tellher I didn't care if I laid my eyes on another woman again, if shewasn't with me. But I didn't. I realized that I only had another month with her. She'd rejected everyguy who'd asked her out ever since I'd known her. I didn't want the sameto happen to me, and I didn't want to make it awkward between us. Ididn't want to risk that month. I wanted it to be the best time I hadever spent with her. After I came back from the US, I might not even getto meet her again. Two years was a long time. We ate out almost every night. We visited some of the best restaurantsin the city. She also helped me shop for warm clothes, formalwear,shoes, toothpaste and a million things I'd never have thought of on myown. "You need to buy a nail-cutter." My roommates and I shared one. "I've prepared a list of must-have medicines that you should carry." "Your iron won't work in the US. No point buying one here as you needone that works at a hundred and ten volts and has flat pins. You can buyone at a K-Mart or Wal-Mart as soon as you get there." "You need at least two pairs of formal shoes and at least ten pairs ofdark socks. The East Coast has a formal dress code. And you won't doyour laundry more than once a week or two." "How many ties do you have? And which trousers do your blazers go with?" "Better get a haircut before you leave from here. Knowing you, you'llpostpone the first haircut for too long." She'd call me up at one in the morning to tell me to add 'one more item'to my list. And with every passing day, I was falling more deeply in love with her. The month swept by quickly. The day I was supposed to leave, I asked herto come with me to the airport. "Of course, dumbo. You think I'd let yougo just like that, or what?" After packing my bags for me and checking the lists for the hundredthtime, she finally pronounced me "Good to go." We reached the airport four hours early to beat the rush, because it wasan international flight. She got a visitor's pass to sit in the waitingarea while I went ahead and checked-in my bags. Preeti had got a springbalance from somewhere and so we knew my bags were well within theweight limit. I finished the formalities and came to sit with her. Wehad only a few hours before I had to go for my security-check. Wedecided to get something to eat at the food court. And all the time, theone thing that was going through my head was that, after this, Iwouldn't see her for at least another two years. "Hey, Champ. Why so glum?" She saved 'Champ' for special days. Normally,it was just 'dumbo', 'bozo', 'ape-man', 'matchstick man', 'weirdo', orif she was very irritated with me, 'nutcase'. "I don't want to go," I said. "I don't want you to go either." "No, you don't understand." I couldn't hold it in any longer. "I can'tstand the thought of living without you by my side." She stared at me. There was a strange look in her eyes. I couldn't readit. "I am madly in love with you, Preeti." At this, a sound escaped her lips that sounded like a cross between asob and a laugh. "Well, dumbo, you've picked an absolutely fabulous timeto tell me about it!" A tear escaped her eyes. It was all I could do to stop myself fromwiping it off her cheeks. "How long have you felt this way?" She seemed amused, though she wasdefinitely crying. I didn't know what to make of it. "From the day I found out you had baked me a cake." She laughed. "That's all it took? Well, bozo, I guess a way to a man'sheart is certainly through his stomach! Hold it. A month? You waited amonth? You were the one who kept saying that if you really liked a girlyou wouldn't waste a day in telling her!" She was smiling widely now. Itlooked funny, with her eyes all wet. "Well, I was confused. How did I know how you'd react? In fact, I stilldon't understand your reaction. I thought it would change things betweenus. You've rejected every guy who ever proposed to you!" "That's because I'm in love with you, you overgrown idiot!" "What?" Somehow, I'd never expected her to say that. She was in lovewith me? "How long have you been in love with me?" "Ever since the day you offered to carry my suitcase for me." "But that was the first day I met you!" "I guess I was always a sucker for chivalry." "All this time you've been in love with me and you never said anything!Then you go and complain that I waited a month!" "You guys are so bad at reading a girl's mind." "You women are so good at keeping your thoughts a secret! Even Einsteincouldn't figure you out." "Einstein was a nerd. Casanova, on the other hand, understood us verywell." "I love you." "I know." That moment, my dear friends, was magic. I looked into her eyes and tookher hands in mine. Physical contact for us had been limited, until then,to a punch in the arm, a slap on the back of the head, or giving eachother a 'high five'. "You realize, don't you," she said, "that this is our first date?" Leaveit to her to notice the little things. "I really don't want to go." I'd always maintained that love is abucketful of emotions. I wasn't exactly delighted to be proved right. "Don't worry. I'm coming there in a couple of months." "How? On a dependent visa?" She laughed. "For that, I'll have to wait, won't I? I've got a projectin New Jersey." I couldn't believe my ears. "What? When did that happen? You never eventold me!" "Well, I wasn't sure you'd propose before you left. And I couldn'texactly sacrifice you to those New York women, could I? I had to watchout for myself. So I went on a project-hunting spree. There is anopportunity coming up for a project in about two months. Someone iscoming back to India, so I'll be taking his place. They want me therefor a little less than two years." She was beaming. "I realized I hadstruck gold!" "And if I'd not told you how I felt? When were you planning on tellingme about it?" "Around a month before I reached there. I had to make it look natural.Or you'd think I was desperate." "Well, you are desperate!" This was incredible. All I'd done in the pastmonth had been to mope around, listen to sad songs and write her lettersthat I never intended her to read. "You've been scheming all this while!How come you didn't lay a trap for me a year ago?" "I tried giving you hints, dumbo, but you just wouldn't pay attention!"She was laughing. "You're the only guy I ever spent any time with.Wasn't that a big enough hint?" That was true. She would happily join a group of boys to go to a cricketmatch, but I now realized, only if I was one of them. "What if I had rejected you?" I was extremely flattered that she'd beencrazy about me for a year. My ego was swelling. "You must be kidding!" she was clearly amused. "I get proposed to everyfew days. You are the one who's been rejected more times in the lastyear than I can count on two pairs of hands!" She really knew how to burst my bubble. "Hey," she said softly, "don't look so dejected. I said 'Yes', didn'tI?" I grinned. "Yes, you did. And you've made me a very happy man. But youknow what would make me even happier?" "What?" "If you learn to cook as good as you bake cakes." So she punched me in the arm again
(Its not mine.....but really cute one)
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