My Secret friend ( Continues...)
After my great escape from the wierdos of the chat rooms every second, every micro second, it was on the eighth day that I happened to meet this idiot who asked me to spell my name correctly. Ha! As if I don’t know how to spell cute correctly. What the fuck! How could anyone be so stupid? He sounded too serious in commenting on such a silly stuff that I almost laughed. For being not much of chatter, I simply pouted the tongue of an emoticon and moved on. But this blockhead would not leave me alone and asked me to speak English for, as he said, he could not understand my pouting emoticon. I called him grandpa and a villager to see what kind of emotional sadistic animal he was going to prove of himself by his next comment. After a moment I got his reply saying something about being pathetic and crawling on my bum for milk; Only God could have known what he tried to tell me. And I just moved on again after saying him he was sick and I closed his page.
One by one face plates of different wierdos were popping out and my job was to ignore them all. God bless my secret friend! How would I ever find my friend in such a mess? And this pathetic villager, who says something about crawling for milk and whose language only God could understand, came again saying sorry after sorry after sorry after sorry, reading which one after another over and again, almost hypnotized me. I shook my head wildly to earn the lost concentration and cursed him again and again and over and again and asked him where on earth he was from, in a sweet way for which he replied he was from “ India” and he do not like being called a villager.
He was some sort of twit I had no doubt in it but he was also a piece of entertainment I realized it then because I simply couldn’t keep myself from punching the keys to comment on his silly but funny remarks. And so I was on continual laughs that I put on to him through emoticons. But he seemed hurt and asked why the hell I was laughing so much for which I asked him to go find his own bitch for a chat and to spare this kid now. Poor him, he began to cry his eyes out for my remarks and horribly shedding tears between all the words he said and that I have made his business go crash because he was losing all his precious pearls. I asked him to call it crocodile tears but he seemed not to let me go until his tears were proved pearls.
And suddenly as if something happened he started getting excited in yelling “Angel is a loser…Angel is a loser”. Fuck you!!! I asked him to stop driving me crazy and he said he had decided to forgive me. Unexpectedly, he became serious and made me accept his photo sharing request and asked if I wished to see him and without me telling anything he began counting down. Five……I raised my eyebrow…Four… I wondered what on earth he was going to show me now…Three…I felt the need to have a cup of caffeine …Two… Something took shape in my mind and I cursed him…One and half…fuck you!!...One…and Boom!!! I looked at a big fat hairy orang-utan hanging on to a branch and grinning at me.
When have I had a laugh like this? Two years back…three years back…
I couldn’t stop giggling and told him he was cracked up and asked him to go get his own life for which he began to hammer his head violently. And all of a sudden what came to him I wondered, he abruptly became damn serious and kept on asking how dare I was to talk to him that way and he was on to something to teach me a lesson. And when I kept quite pressing my teeth, looking in to the screen, trying to understand his undergraduate sense of humour, he suddenly started singing “twinkle twinkle little stars.”
You are pissing my brains off and I mean it. But then you are funny.
When I did not reply him he kept on asking me if I was there.But I would not reply anything and when he could not make out my little ploy he kept on saying sorry and said he was simply enjoying the chat with me.
Alright you say sorry, I accept your apology.
So it went on, one after another keeping me stuck to him for hours together passing of which time I could not even make out. I told him few parts of my life. He seemed jumping in excitement when he was told I’m an Indian who hadn’t seen India whole of life and currently residing in Australia. He admired me for working in local book shop to stay independent. Well, remaining part of it was not told to him lest I never knew how he was going to put himself to me by that.
Gradually, as the hour hand of my wall clock moved by a unit, I was slowly getting a feeling of the sickness that even he would have been striving to compromise with. It seemed to me as if he had decided on something to make his imperfect life, picture-perfect. During my little tactic to understand him, when I had been looking closely at him to explore the way he was going to take himself when i don't reply him, I had felt nothing but guilt when I looked at him typing something and then preventing and again typing as if he was simply confused what kind of approach he must set his sights on to catch my attention. Or otherwise he would not stop rattling on as he was at the beginning of the chat. And people who try to catch attention are desperate for a company. I got that hint quite easily when I had been observing him closely. He would feel as if he was a one good piece of entertainment but desolately when people wouldn’t reply to him he would feel sad. Perhaps, he would have felt of himself insignificant.
But it differed a lot with my way of leading life. He was a kind of man who wanted to get recognized around people and possibly, when he felt he was not satisfied by himself he started making himself look like an idiot so that friends around him would be happy talking about him sometimes. He wanted to attract people and in that process he wouldn’t mind to put himself down. Perhaps even he was feeling too lonely like me and the enthusiastic mind in him would shrink quickly to pessimistic mode for a slight bother.
After bidding him goodbye and waiting for him to sign out, I began ignoring all the different weirdoes who had dropped me message to my id. How different people could be? A while ago I was talking to someone who always seemed tending to prove himself something of a stupid but here these people are trying to define me the typical male protocol to find their opposite counterpart. I thought for a while about this dude with whom I had been chitchatting for past couple of hours. What did he say his name was? Did he say it or have I forgotten to ask him his name? I wondered if he is regular to such chat rooms and if I will catch him up again? I began ignoring everyone who had dropped a message to me until I found a friend’s request laid on to my screen peacefully waiting for me to accept him as my friend. I muttered the ID smilingly.
Two days later, while talking to him I was told that he was leaving for his native where he would not be taking his laptop, meaning there would be no chance for us to meet each other for few days like we had been meeting for past three days. I must admit, talking to him had been quite easy for me as he was simply not complicated. He seemed to tell what exactly he felt. And the way he felt about the people, it always convinced me that he was being true in his telling. He was far too witty to make me adhere to him and his blabbering mouth would never shut, for me to think what more were there for me to talk.
He appeared as if he never fell short of any words or issues to talk about. Sometimes, after talking to him for long four to five hours I wondered if there were something called as a 'perfect talk' between us. He never seemed to have planned for a talk but it was as if whatever he felt at the moment or whatever he thought at the moment he would talk. And whenever he was far too excited, the explosion of ecstasy could be easily felt on him.
He was cute by talk and sensitive by heart. I felt he should never be broken and there developed in me, a kind of soft corner for him. He seemed least bothered about it just because he seemed desperately wanting for someone to talk that’s it. It seemed to me as if he had lots of beautiful thoughts in his beautiful mind that were trying to tell something. But he would never bore anyone by his lecture to let them understand his feelings. His methods to approach others seemed at the heights of insanity but then that was how I would have liked to be approached. I knew of people and their gentle words and cruel intentions by experience but hadn’t ever known how to display the outward look stupidly while being gentle within.
After bidding him good bye and sharing some sad emoticons to suit the scene, I closed my laptop and I went to get myself a cup of coffee. Setting myself on to my sofa I began revising my day. Early morning everything was going good but at work all seemed same again. Nothing new to bring a joy in me. The same people and the whiff of hypocrisy moving around them. I had again felt this morning that I would have to quit this job and go work somewhere making use of my degree in science perhaps as biomedical scientist. But poor our director he had the deal with me. I had to work here till the project was finished. My director also seemed quite happy with my job but he knew about the problem I had been facing here.
“You might find different kind of people around this place and you may not like them but you must always stick to yourself and your professionalism” he had said during the early days of my career.
Then my thoughts drifted to my lonely life. And suddenly I felt I was not lonely after all. Hadn’t that dude had said he would like to be in touch with me every day on Facebook?
I logged in and sent him a long message, very well prepared message.
Think Akshata ! What have you been three years back ?
Akshata: A very lovely morning to you Rakeysh. How are you feeling? Any better today morning? I spoke to my professor about my mushroom project. I think she is convinced to some extent. But I will need to do more readings and meet her again this week. Hope you have begun your journey. Did u check around to see if Ananya is in the same bus too?? U never know you mite be lucky ;) Happy journey. Keep writing....
© Copyright 2016 Amaylo. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Romance
Short Story / Romance
Short Story / Romance
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