its lousy, boy

To every romantic number I listen, unconsciously I started putting her in the song’s female stand. A sharp knock on my head, dispelled the illusion there. When I turned around it was her. She continued saying authoritatively “Not me there” and switching to a convincing tone “My parent’s obvious ‘nope’ would easily overlook if at all it is ‘yup’ of mine. Dear, I’ll tell you better things are in store for you”. She remains me The God Father and the art of perseverance in convincing.

A friend says, “a true lover care for her forever, even if it is not accepted”. I felt mean there that it sounded bullshit to me. All I saw in her was a rare ingredient that would make my recipe delicious and naturally the joy lend would boomerang reckon with interest.

When I realized any number of marches with banners reading ‘marry me dear’ is not going to move her, I decided to lay down the banner. Incidentally a friend who didn’t wanted me to give up, ended writing a beautiful energizing stanza though not able push me back. Happy that I infected one more soul.

Though my business as usual is immune to her ‘no’ logically, Serotonin, biologically called neurotransmitter and literally the commander who carries order from mind to body as muscular contractions, was shouting commands to me like ‘shrink your face more, this doesn’t look sad enough’, ‘why the hell you shave so often’. It took considerable time for me to make Serotonin behave normally, like a teacher who behaves pleasingly after a serious of prankey insults.

One night braking my silence of couple of months, she make my mobile say ‘tring tring’, and we had a casual ‘long time no see’ and ‘gone in air’ chat. The next day with a beep my mobile showed that she had wrote to me, “a boy and a girl were playing hide and seek. She sent a SMS: ‘If you find me you can marry me, if you cannot find me, I’m hidden in the shed’”. Read the message again, with all the context I guess you would infer what I would have inferred.

After three bloody days of her no-reply to all my ‘tring tring’s and beep’s, just before the war in me would have gone crazy using nuke, she says, ‘Come on dude, its a forward’. Serotonin sarcastically laughed at me like a teacher, whom I’d insulted near to grave, get to evaluate my exam.