My First “ Love letter!”

Before I start the blog I want to declare one thing. I don't intend to offend anybody! (I might just offend with my intent).See, what’s the point in writing if I can’t even annoy someone.Tact is for people who aren't clever enough to take the p*ss. Ok, let’s get to the point: I wrote my first love letter in my 5^th grade! As characteristic to all love letters, mine was also written to “Lover”. But u see, there is a catch –it was “not my lover”. And as in all love stories there is a boy & a girl – Sriram & Deepika, though I play the main role (not surprising since I’m writing the blog). All the world loves a good loser: Welcome to the world of a loser.

Rolling back………….

It was my first moral science class in the year( Ya, v had a subject on moral science, with proper textbook, test, homework and a final exam).Every Friday 2 hrs. The new teachers name was Munna. He was the music cum moral science teacher. Weird combination! It was like Michael Jackson being asked to take up history of ancient India. But considering he was jobless apart from his morning songs in school prayer (Which sounded more like a trapped mouse’s pathetic wails) he was asked to take up the MS class. N he started with “ I speak 6 languages and English is the bestest!”. Then proceeded to give notes in his “bestest” language which was the first of a long series during which his notes became our notes without passing through the mind of neither. He finally concluded the first hr before break with some crap about discipline, “Discipline is very important in life. Even in case of a fire u have to line up in height order and leave the campus quietly!”( Wats the logic in dat? Wat, do tall people burn slower?!).

During the snacks break Sriram was staring at the space. It was not a secret, he had the brains of a 4 yr old ( n I’m sure de 4 yr old was glad to get rid of it).Smartness ran through him that the teachers in his class had to stay back for one more year to get a grip of his brain. After 3 mins of staring, he blurted out “God!, Im in love with Deepika!”.It was my turn to stare. I was as shocked as I would have been if he had told me he was gay. Now, him falling in love was relatively less shocking than whom he had fallen in love with. Deepika was considered by many as miniature lady binladen. If rumors were to be believed she bites when provoked, sneezes in her sleeves and she is the girl you often visualize with a duct tape around her mouth and smile to yourself on the temporary satisfaction. If she were a boy, she wouldn’t fall in love with herself. But you see, after all ‘Love is blind!’ (But I’ve been curious, If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?).

After giving enough time for me to absorb the shock, he told that he wanted me to help him write a love letter . Not that I’m too good in this stuff. But he cannot write a leave letter for nuts, so a love letter was way out of league. If A was English and B was Sriram, A intersection B was a null set. Normally I wouldn’t have bulged but he tempted me with a Nestle bar. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to itJ. So I took out a paper n tried to write something. I jus wrote –“ I LOVE U- Sriram 5^th B.” He looked at me as if he had just witnessed the making of Monalisa by Da Vinci. He requested me to hand my master piece to her on my way out. Jus 4 words and a small delivery for a Nestle din look like a bad bargain. On my way out I gave it to Deepika. She asked me what it was and I told her in a dry tone it was a Love letter and left the class.

As usual, I came to class 5 mins late after break. There was dead silence. Munna stood there like a Hindi movie villain with the letter in his hand. Oh, so Deepika has done what was expected. Sriram is gonna be screwed. But I felt it was a better result than a ‘Yes’ from Deepika. Suddenly, Munna asked me not to enter the class.I felt everyone was staring at me and it just struck me – The letter was not yet opened! Munna proved my theory right n said to the class “ This young hero has written a Love letter in my class ! My class!. How daring is this scoundrel!” All the girls in the class had a mini orgasm and the guys looked confused. I tried to blurt out “ No sir , jus open and see the letter “. He did the unthinkable. He tore the letter and threw it in my face! I looked at Sriram. He covered his face with the MS book and appeared to be engrossed. Deepika was in tears. I wondered if I must cry too.

Then Munna shouted at me “ I want you to go and meet the Principal”. Now why do teachers ask students to meet the principal? Can’t they deal with situations themselves? I wonder if they get some kind of performance incentive on the basis of cases reported. Even after much begging and fretting he dint give up. So I went to the principal’s office. The office boy stopped me outside and asked ” why do you want to meet her?” (The things most people want to know about are usually none of their business). Now, what can I say? That I came by to appeal for the unrecruited love of my friend who is making love to moral science in class now, while I got all screwed up here. “I wanted to ask for 1 week leave” I told him. Luckily she was not in office. I went back to class n told Munna. He immediately told what I had dreaded.” I want to meet both your parents”.( What was he? A matrimony website agent?)

End of play :

I somehow dodged him for one month , cut schools on Fridays, told him my parents were out of town and managed still things cooled down. Gossip had done its job and Scandal is gossip made tedious by morality. Soon the entire school knew about the episode and some idiot told my mom. My mom told my uncle n you could imagine all the advice sessions I would have undergone. All this for a Nestle bar!

P.S:

Last I heard, Deepika is in NIT Trichy. She looks stunning, no longer sneezes in her sleeves, a perfect 10 and a ‘mustwatchtwice material’ was the exact comment I got when enquired. Sriram is doing fine, got a girl friend and I hope he writes his own love letters. Now, all that is left is this looser who s got nothing better to do than post a blog.

And, for the record: I’m still single- by choice (Not my choice!)