The Crush | Dedicated to my dearest friends - Bhagya 'N' Hari

Chapter 1 – Memories.

Its yet again a December. Its the time when nature tranquilises and melts itself into ubiquitous serenity. It brings with it lot of happiness, hope and a feeling of safe being. And Its the time of vacations, meet ups and reunions across the whole planet. And my case was also no different. I was also scheduled to leave for India for a two week vacation. My two year long stint at Onsite here in US has gifted me 3 Bs. Boredom, Baldness(not shining kinda but a fair enough one) and Belly(a sweet little Pot Belly that is, Again don’t mistake it for a pumpkin under my shirt). I badly needed a vacation. Its long since I have had any acquaintance with my near and dears. Yes. I need to go back.

It was just when I was about to shut my laptop down, I notice an unread e-mail in my Inbox. I look at the mailer and I suddenly realise that it’s an invite for a school reunion. School of the GOOD SHEPEARD invites you for the Founder’s day celebrations and Alumni Meet. Below the mailer someone has dropped in couple of lines for me. And it goes like this...

Dearest Bobby,

This is Lucy Miss here. Hope you are doing well abroad. I don’t know if you are aware that I am taking my retirement this year. I know you are busy with your official obligations but I will expect you to make it for the ALUMNI MEET in December. I want you to meet all of you guys before I leave for my native. God knows if we will all get a chance ever after. So Son .. Please do come. In hope of seeing all of you ...

Your Loving Teacher,
Lucy Mathew.

Wow.. This is getting real good, I thought. I slowly turned my chair to the window and looked outside through the glass. Its raining. Little shiny droplets like shinning beads trickle down on to the glass against a silhouette of deep blue mountains. Suddenly I have this warm desire to just run into the rain and get drenched just like I used to do when I was a young boy. The rains...They have this mystic ability to evoke instant nostalgia in your hearts. Yes. Memories. They are like angels sent down from heaven. Little streaks of lights etched in both your heart and brain alike... that make you smile most of the time and make you sob at some other. I always used to wonder what if man never had the power to remember .. Then I quickly realise that nature has also gifted man to etch the pleasantness and mellowness of the good old ones into the brain and erase the soot of the bad ones in due course of time. Memories ....My Dear Angels ... Take me on a ride for a while...And I can sense that little concave curve spreading across my lips !!!

Chapter 2 – The Mf Factor

Mischief. This is a resident ability that I had in my blood stream right from my childhood. I remember Annie miss teaching us biology in our 10th Grade. Those who have excessive Rf Factor(rheumatoid factor) in their blood are prone to diseases. However, I had excesses of Mf(Mischief factor) in my blood and was prone to ‘diseases’ like meticulous caning from my dad, standing outside the Principal’s room for breaking Amith’s nose etc. Well, you cannot completely blame me the latter, for what he did to me was something very grave. Well, I got A+ in Maths once and the moron went around boasting that I managed it by copying from him. I would have let him go had he not blurted it out to Neena Gregory who happened to be our classmate and the most sexiest girl on earth THEN. So one calm afternoon, after school, I just went ahead with a broad smile on my face. Stopped Amith on his cycle, made sure nobody is watching. BANG. Don’t do that again you A***ole. He bled from his nose which was not intended. I am being honest here. I didn’t intend to break his nose.

But I had to bring my dad to school upon a ‘recommendation’ from the Principal. Dad was coerced to turn up fearing my loss of seat and another heavy donation at a different school. And to make things worse, make the bloody sum to 2x since it was my 10th grade running loud and live. Poor Dad. I seriously have felt sorry for him for having me as his first child. Now, at the end of it, if you really thought I did the whole drama since my feelings were hurt by Amith for having thrown blasphemy on my honest effort , My friend, you are wrong again. I never copied from him. I just had every stuff written neatly(with pencil) on the portion of my shirt which went inside the pants. But Neena was too costly a piece to loose for this shit piece of ‘dishonest blasphemy’.

Well, The stories barely end there. It was my 10th grade , this incisive feeling to ride a bike, grew in me, hot and bold. I was waiting for a chance and once my uncle turned up on his Hero Honda CD100SS. I had done the beautiful act of stealing the keys from his hands by sticking around him in the sofa. I don’t know why my f**king limbs are shivering as I neared the bike. This, I later learned with a great deal of Ingenuity, to conceal while doing an act of abnormal temperament. I kicked the kicker.once . twice. thrice. And fourth time it back fired and smashed my right foot. Then I notice the thing which every first-time-bike-rider forgets to do. The keys are not turned on. Done. I kicked with the so much strength .. so much so that ... I farted without no body hearing it since the engine revved to life. I knew that they hold the “Break-like-thing” on the left handle before they put on the first gear. I did the same. All Set . Then I release the “Break-like-thing” to the bare maximum. Gave the accelerator to the max possible. Even to date when I see those dumb assess do that wheeling thing on the TV I smile at the whole thing for their inability to do it. For what I accomplished on that Hero Honda CD100SS, that evening, was the most exciting wheeling anybody could do. Only to land up in the next CANAL though. My moron neighbour comes out and shouts... Look what Bobby has done. I try to act as if nothing had happened only to the rock bottom futility and my moron neighbour’s shouting multiplying its own decibel. I stand there blinking as if the bike suddenly turned up into a disobedient wild horse and broke its own bridle. The usual round of caning followed. But then I learned on that day that, Bikes... are QUITE dissimilar to bicycles and that “Break-like-thing” on the left handle of a bike is called clutch and you are to only release it slowly. As slow as you give the acceleration.

Chapter 3 - Pammu

All said and done, the level of mischief was kept remarkably less at school because, you are tied up and kind of isolated from being yourself for one bloody reason. You don’t have the freedom to be yourself many a time when you have a battalion of 5 cousins(both elder and younger to me) being sent to same school and to make things worse you have your own sister as the watch dog of us six. And to make things even more worse she is younger to you by six years and my parents trusted this little turtle as they had trusted the figure 1000 as when compared to me, it was 1. Her name was Sandra fondly called as Ammu at home and even more “fondly” called as Pammu by me. Her face reassembled as that of a pumpkin and with a sort bonsai coconut tree of hair rising right on top of her head, she was nothing but a pumpkin with its tail not broken off. Pumpkin Ammu aka Pammu. Pammu’s most enjoyed hobby was to get for me, the maximum count of beating for the “Crimes” I did. I do something that is marginally wrong. The thing reaches home with 5x force and the reward is 10x beating. But Heart of Hearts “The Pumpkin” was kinda sensible devil.

Chapter 4 – The Crush

I vividly remember the day, this new girl walked into our Class. I have a good enough reason. Annie miss was giving out the answer sheets of the Quarterly examination in the 10th class. She had this horrible habit of announcing your score loud and clear so that not only your class, but also the neighbouring class can savour the “taste” of your marks. Every time she called out the marks, she looked through her thick spectacles as if a jailer looking at his prisoners. Amith Ninan.. 70 Upon 80.. Anjali Anand..78 Upon 80(Sure Doctor material and she is one today..  ) Arun Raghava ..68 Upon 80. Oh My God.... Big Marks. Next is mine. I hate Biology and I knew I will flunk for sure. Just when I stood up to go and receive my paper, I heard a beautiful yet strong feminine voice at the door. “Excuse me miss.. May I come in?”. You wont believe . I fell back into my own chair by seeing her. I was mesmerised. I forgot I was in a classroom . Suddenly everything was dramatic. The way she walked in. The way she showed the paper chit to Annie miss. Just like what you will see in a movie(Slow motion Implied). Then she started walking to me with no particular expression. I was still dreaming but I could also sense that all the morons dreaming along with me. I see the bloodiest of the morons ..Amith with his mouth wide open and I am sure he had enough fluid in his mouth as much as needed to run a steamer inside it. Yes.. she is walking towards me. Annie miss’s terrible shriek brought me back from the lovely dream... “Bobby Eapen .. Come here..” she was shouting ... “Look at your mark.. you puck..”. I was praying that she wouldn’t call my mark out. First impression is the best impression. The universal truth knocks at my door. Then I jumped up and walked towards the teacher’s table. In comes the moment . I was about to walk past her . We were face to face and that’s when Annie miss’s toad-like-voice bursts out loud “31 Upon 80”. The whole class was laughing. Face to Face meeting with her for the first time and here I am ..flunked by 1 mark. She was about to face me and she unknowingly laughed along with the class. Oh Man...I don’t give a shit about flunking. I know that Pammu will steal the paper from my bag. I know that dad will get me a dozen. I tell you I don’t give a shit about it. That smile. That One Smile. I am done.

Annie Miss was like a torrential rain upon me for the next 10 mins. Actually, she got bored of scolding me coz i was still under the fictitious circle of that smile which was shielding me. I seemed to be unmoved. While walking back, I notice that she has taken seat next to that of my chair. Lotteries do come. I believe in them. She dint bother to look at me as I was walking towards my seat while my eyes pried on her some five times before I reached my seat. Annie Miss forgot to introduce our new classmate in the fury of calling out my marks. Then suddenly she realized the mistake and she introduced her to us. “Here is your new friend. Bhavya Elizabeth Mathew . Bhavya, Please come forward and introduce yourself.” Bobby weds Bhavya. Lovely rhyming. I was still dreaming. Zoobi Doobi Zoobi Doobi Ta rum pum...!!!

She walks up straight shaping up her loose hair with one hand. “Hello Friends, I am Bhavya Elizabeth. I was studying at St. Hilda’s Convent School, Ooty previously. I had to come down to my native due to some unavoidable personal reasons. So here I am with you today. Hope to have a nice time with you all in this new school.” She had that angelic smile etched on her face all the way. After giving away the mark sheets, the best lecture, I have ever had in my life ensued. The Human Reproductive System. Oh My God . I cant laugh more tonight.

Chapter 5 – The ‘Devada’ of Luck

However, I had the terrible feeling that, she brought me some ill luck on the very first meeting. Flunking and that too by a single mark is sheer ill luck. Pammu , as usual stole the paper from my bag and conveyed it secretly to my dad. “Pappa.. Chettayi has flunked in Biology.” I was beaten up mercilessly by my dad on that night. I was crying and there wasn’t any help anyone could do. Although, Pammu enjoyed getting me into trouble, she never wanted me to get beaten up like that. She escaped from the scene of torture while the beating continued. And then sometime amidst the beating, I heard her shrill voice shouting... “Pappa.. Chettayi has passed..!!! There is a counting mistake in the paper..”. Those are moments when you get filled with pride. Not because you passed the paper but because she has just made me realize blood, really, is thicker than water. This is why I said earlier, the pumpkin has her own ways of astounding you. See how quickly the things change. Suddenly my outlook towards Pammu changed. From then onwards, I was the brother in the surf excel ad where he beats up the mud for making her sister stoop. The beating stopped and I was let free. And most importantly the “Devada of ill luck” seize to exist and my “Devada of Luck” takes birth. I could sense that warm glee spreading across my lips even when I tasted salt from the tears.

Chapter 6 – The XXL Wishlist

The irresistible and irrevocable feeling to see, to talk, to be with, to hug, to love (and ahem.. sometimes that three letter word also pops up) that you feel towards a beautiful girl and vice versa in case of girls is how you can define “A CRUSH”. Yes. I admit I was crushed big time. I was crushed with so much force like never before. I can feel it grow harder and stronger in me. I can’t stop laughing at the things I had done due to one biological phenomenon that got shaped up in my brain. You will really go crazy if you have had a real one in your life. I had the taste of it.
I had hated going to church on the Sunday mornings due to the catechism classes. Things has suddenly changed. Now, The church seemed like a gold mine. Any time you might hit gold. Bhavya might turn up at church on Sunday. I attended 4 masses on one particular Sunday. That is 6 Hours of praying. God forgive thy son for the prank. I had you in my mind. But her smile was always right next to you on the alter. I look into the phone directory to list down the number of Mathews in her locality and try to narrow down the list to a single number. Can you believe the velocity of a bicycle matching up that of a school van?. Yes I did it. I followed her van all the way to her locality just to know where she lived. Mr Einstein, I hear by certify, based on experimentation, that your Theory of Relativity holds good when the measured physical quantity is Velocity.

I can tell you one thing. Our brains are conditioned to act in very strange ways once this activity is going on in our brain. And in my case, everything is a bit of XXL size. That’s why I chose the most stupid-est*( *There is no word like this. Just to signify my level of stupidity) of the ways to impress her and gain her attention. I just wanted to gift a portrait of her. Not just a portrait. A portrait that is hand drawn by me. To complete the XXL factor in my wish, I decided to gift her with the portrait on her Birthday. Yeah. I know its sounds kinda weird. But Its like you are blind folded by the peel of the biological phenomenon. The million dollar question arises before me. How do you get to know her Birthday? You can’t ask any of your classmates. They will start making stories. She might get to know about the stories and start hating me. I decided against it. Moreover you could end up destroying the surprise element. When the most open option of asking her directly was wide open, I embarked on the greatest of the goof ups of my life to know her birthday. Its like, the moment this phenomenon strikes your brain, your ability to think straight vanishes. You just seem to be oblivious to the easiest. You always try to hold your nose by encircling your hand across your head instead of holding it straight up from the front.

Chapter 7– The Plot

Every Friday evening, the teachers used to meet in a meeting room in the top floor of our building. Normally, they don’t lock the staffroom when they go for the meeting. Come another Friday and I was waiting to execute my “Planned and Petrified” strategy to get her birth date. I was hiding in the rest room by just occasionally flushing the water closet in order to indicate that I was doing an unending big business to the souls who turned up with unstoppable fervour and force at their focal points. Just an Indication that they better watch out for a different rest room. Ensuring that teachers has gone for the meeting on the top floor, I go to the staffroom like a cat. I spot the telephone in the corner. I also take a chit of paper having the narrowed downed list of two numbers.

I take a piece of cloth from my pocket. Hold it over the mic part of the receiver.( Till date, I do not know the significance of holding a cloth like this when you make a fake call. I have seen Jos Prakash do it in movies. And I wonder whether villains alone do this act of smartness?) However, this was supposed to fake the voice. God knows what. I dialled the first number. My heart was pounding with a 100 kg weight in each thump. A matured feminine voice picked up.
With the best manly voice that ever came out of me, I asked : “ Well, May I talk to Bhavya Elizabeth ?”. The voice at the other end sounded a little disturbed.

“Ahh well... May I know who is speaking.? ”. There was lot of confusion in the voice.
I thought it would be her mother(Goof up#1) and with unstoppable continuity I said(goof up #2):
“Well. This is from her school. And I am her class teacher Joseph Daniel speaking. I just had a confusion with her birth date which seems to be a little tampered in her application form for the board exam. Can you let me know the exact name and birth date?”.
The voice at the other end hesitated at the moment.

“Well. Sir...You may have just got the wrong number. This is not Bhavya’s home. I am ...”. The moment I heard that, I just slammed the phone down. Had I heard the rest of what that woman on the other end wanted to say, I wouldn’t have landed up in the unimaginable trouble that you can’t even think off. With shivering hands I dialled the second number. This time I was spot on. Bhavya picked up the phone and I recognized her voice right away. Within a minute I got what I had wanted. 2 3 rd A P R I L 1 9 8 5. I was jumping at the success of my plan. Little knowing that a tornado was to soon follow.

Chapter 8 – The trouble at the door

With every crime, how much ever well executed it is, the doer of the crime leaves out at least one clue. Or perhaps a single clue that will lead to his destruction. In Criminology it’s called, the fingerprint of God. Mine was also no different. As I told earlier, Had I bothered to check who the other MATHEW who was on my list was, or perhaps had I listened to one more word that lady uttered when I called the first Mathew, I at least would have had some hope of rescuing myself. I had little known that Lucy miss(Lucy MATHEW who wrote the reunion invite to me ) was on leave that day and to my sheer hard luck, my first call had ended up with her. She had lived near Bhavya’s house.

Hold on guys. I am still alive. But in a very bad shape though. Its so normal for Lucy miss to have discussed this call thing with Joseph sir and he instantly rejecting the fact that he had called her on Friday evening. But they figured out the criminal in me. The finger print of God, in my case was my own ID card which I had lost in the staff room amidst the noiseless celebration I had made when I heard 23rd April 1985. Along with that, the Peon had vouched against me. He saw a student walking out of the staffroom at around 4:30PM on Friday evening. Enough for the teachers to conclude and close the case.

On Tuesday Morning, when I arrived at the class, my class teacher directed me to the principal’s room.
“Bobby Please meet the principal before you enter my class.” She said very heavily. I was so unaware of what was happening in the background and I was a little puzzled. I thought it would be for the usual late arrival thing. When I reached his office, what I saw in there were the following set of people.

1. Bhavya 2. My Dad 3. A gentle man(whom I suppose to be Bhavya’s dad). 4. Joseph Sir 5.Lucy Miss. 6.Our Principal Dr.George Lobo

A lightening struck my heart. And I suddenly realized that my end is near. Everyone looked at me with so much hatred in their eyes except one. My dad was looking down and his head was low.

The principal Reverent Dr. George Lobo. He was a priest in the CMI clergy and he usually had a very calm disposition. Not this time. He began my trial.

“Bobby, I assume, by now ,you know the reason why you are being summoned here at my office.” I knew that there was no escape. Lying would make it worse. I just kept looking down. He roared.

“Look at my face. You shameless monster”. I jerked back due to the rage. His face was red due to fury.
He then turned to my father. “Look Mr. Eapen... Do you understand the seriousness of what your son did”. Dad was so motionless and kept looking down. More than anything, I dint have the strength to look at his face. I was not afraid of the beating at home but because of the apathy on his face. Because of the stagnant shame that his son has gifted him and his family. That had dulled his face. At that moment, the sadness in my heart leaped and it took the form of silent tears.

“It is an act of vulgarity. Impersonation is a criminal offense. I assume you know that. At an age of 15, if this puck is all set to impersonate his own teacher, what is the surety that he will not err more severely when he grows up to be a man. I don’t want this school to produce criminals. And Hence, I have no other option than to dismiss him for what he did. Do you have anything to say?”
My father sat so silent as if he was no more. I was still crying. As if having seen his pathetic state, Lucy miss interfered.
“Sir, Please. Let us be a little more moderate. He is in his 10th grade. A dismissal now would ruin his entire life. Please be kind enough to act in a little more judicious and benevolent way. Can we not avoid a TC?”
Dr.George thrust his eyes deeply into that of Lucy Miss’s. He was getting furious. “Lucy, I understand that you are his teacher. But I am here to take any disciplinary violation that this school falls prey to. So you may not Interfere. ”

Chapter 9 – My Dad

The last hope is also over. If anything is left, that is his seal on my Transfer Certificate. It is when my dad spoke out in the most pathetic voice that came out of him.
“Sir , I am an unfortunate father. I also understand what he has done. It doesn’t require pardon. But sir, please try to understand, I will not have any other place to take him if you let him loose. I don’t know how good you can think from an accursed father’s heart. Please let him go for this time. As an unfortunate father, I can only ask this of you.” He started weeping.

I wept all the more not because I feared the dismissal. Instead, every tear drop that fell off him was like pouring hot magma over me. I cursed myself for the being the worst son anyone could come across. Now there are times in life When you really understand the meaning of love. It is when somebody is there to care for you even if you do the wrong and hurt them as if there is no redemption. There is someone to pay for your mistakes. There is someone to selflessly devout themselves for your well being. The words my dad uttered was more than enough for me to know how much he had cared and loved me. After all , I know that you have to idea how my dad had loved me. After every beating , he would come near me in the nights, when I pretended to sleep. He will sit near me. Watch me for a while. Ensure that the fan in the room is on. Spread the blanket on me and leave only after having made himself sure that I was sleeping good and safe. For a dad like him, I must have been the most unfortunate thing that God ever gave. How do I love you back dad?. I don’t know.

Chapter 10 – My Protector Angel.My Love

Dr. George seemed to be a little confused. “Well... How are you so sure that he will not do anything deadening from now on? Do you guarantee?”. He asked with no mercy on his face. My dad was a man who cared for the words he said. If he say a yes at this juncture, it is the trust he places on me. I must be able to live up to his word. I have to prove that he gave a gentleman’s deal. Everyone was waiting to get the answer.

“Yes Sir. I do.” To everyone’s sheer surprise, it was not my dad who answered. Instead, astounding everyone in the room, Bhavya spoke those words. And she continued in a most loved voice that you will want to hear over and again.
“I guarantee that he will not err anymore. He will be a good student from now on. I am his classmate. And moreover he is my friend. I have an equal responsibility on him as you teachers have on him. I will make sure that he does well in his studies and will make his dad proud one day. Trust me sir. This is my promise”.

You will clearly hear it even if you drop a pin on to the floor. Everything seemed so damn still. Where did that come from. Bhavya stood there with a pleading yet serene smile on her face. How did she get the courage to utter these. There are times in your life, when Almighty sends his angels down to earth to rescue you from even the gravest of the dangers that you are in. Here I have met my protector angel in the form of Bhavya. But she took everyone with surprise and the most of it, she blew me off with what she just said. I thought she would be the first person on this world to hate me. But she was a different human being.

Dr.George scanned her from toes to forehead and after lot of rumination he ordered a “Disciplinary correction month” for me. Inside this time frame if I end up being caught in violating the discipline, then I would be thrown out.”

After we got out of the room, my dad didnt’ even bother to look at me. He just walked away leaving me weeping on my knees in the veranda. Then, someone took me up by my shoulder. It was her. She had the angelic smile on her face yet again. “Its Ok. We will do good”. She patted on my shoulders and turned to leave. I held her back. I said: “Please don’t hate me Bhavya”. She smiled and said “I wouldn’t have bothered to say all those if I had. But make sure you make me proud someday”. She giggled and walked off.

On that shady, December morning, in front of the principal’s room, with no one to love me, I fell in love with my protector Angel who rescued me from the depths of hell. Again when I say Love, Its more than just a feeling. It is much more than being crushed. Its a sense of safe being in someone body’s presence. I feel that its when you have someone you can trust. Someone who can trust you back. Someone who can actually reflect your conscience and tempt you to do the right thing every other time. That feeling... the essence of being for the person you care... That , in itself is called Love.

Chapter 11 – The Change for the Good.

I wept at my dad’s feet that night. I was expecting torrential beating. But he didn’t. He seemed to be composed. The fact remains true that not only he stayed away from beating me on that night, but also haven’t bothered to do so till date from that day. Its like that. Someone with God’s Grace walks into your life, you can really start feeling yourself getting the better off. I never bothered to get terrible from then on. I had the portion of the shirt that went inside the pants, kept very clean from that day onwards. My grades slowly started improving. Teachers were more kind to me than they ever were. All because of her and the trust she had placed in me. This is why I highly recommend a love life to every one of you who is reading this. But well.. Not quiet early as 10th grade affair. It comes with its own side effects which I will mention a little later. But her magic really worked out on me and I passed my boards with flying colours. Teachers were happy. Parents were happy. George sir even gestured to pat me . I was also happy but not for quiet long. Bhavya finished her boards and soon after, she had to move to Delhi along with her parents. They had got transferred. I kept the whole melodrama to myself except for the fact that some water like thing oozed out of my eyes when she waved her hands from the car.

Chapter 12 – The ‘Achaayan’ Game.

Years passed. I had tried to get rid of her from me. But every time I tried, not only did I fail, but also she would crouch back into my heart like a cat wanting the heat from a blanket on a monsoon evening. The disadvantage/side effect that I was mentioning earlier of falling in love. You tend to get oblivious to all the things that is happening around. That includes hot chicks sitting right next you at your work station. You have the whole energy focussed on that person who you feel you can’t live without.

Due to the very same reason you tend to search her name on all the social networking forums , write her name multiple times on the back of your notepad, draw her portrait even without referring anything etc etc. As an extension to the above activities, Once I simply typed her name in the Microsoft office communicator on our desktop. Bhavya Elizabeth Mathew. To my sheer surprise the software filtered out that beautiful name with a green dot shinning right in front of it. I was just taken by surprise. Bhavya . 7 long years and she is there at just a building away from me working with the same company as that of mine.

“Hi Bhavya...”. A small hesitation and then in came an essay.
“Hi Bobby ... Oh my God ... you know what.. I am stunned. How come you are here ... BLAH.. BLAH... BLAH”

We talked. Talked .Talked and Talked. Occasionally our respective managers(folks with two virtual horns on their head. Seemingly invisible to them alone) would turn up and threaten us about the pending SLA which we would kinda bypass without much care. I had disclosed our story to my best buddies in Infy. Robin and Ebru. Two sweet “Achayans”(For non Keralites FYI. Achayan is a pet name for middle-keralite-christians-who-are-villain-looking-yet-good-at-heart people”) who actually felt that they should take the whole thing to Bhavya without me knowing it. At the end of the whole drama, They said that she had blushed when then said the whole thing to her. Well she also added that she will have to discuss it with her family.

Three years ago, on a beautiful December evening below the shade of the gulmohar tree in our campus, she said YES. The moment of my life. Later I learnt that, my Achayans are seriously thinking of building a matrimonial portal in Infy and I think they are getting good business. Two years ago, with the blessings from all our family members and friends, We got married on an April 14th .

Chapter 13 – The Dream

Memories... My Dear Angels. Well ....What a ride. It has stopped raining outside. Now I am dreaming . The way I will walk back into the my school for the reunion. I can see that mischievous glee on Lucy miss’s face which I would translate as “My naughty rascal. At last you held her hand. ”. I will meet all my friends. Introduce Bhavya as not just Bhavya but they will start knowing her as my wife. Well a little more surprise is back in store for you. I will also introduce to them two cute dolls in our hands. Niranjan and Diya. A buy-one- get–one- free offer from God Almighty in the form of twins. They continue to engage us in our talks, dreams and our life. Well...I am dreaming on.

Epilogue:
1. George Sir came to our wedding and commented that he felt like being naughty a bit is not all that bad.
2. Pammu got married to the most fadoo brother-in law that anyone can get. Just the cool kinda that she is.
3. At our wedding I could see my parents smile for me. The kind of smile when your heart spills with joy and pride alike.
4. A thank you note to couple of people
To NRN: for finding Infosys.
To Bill Gates: For inventing the most admired software by an IT guy. Microsoft Office Communicator that is.

Tail- bit : Hello All, Bhagya and Hari here. We just dropped in to warn you guys about this moron in our office who comes to office not to work but to make stories about his friends and all day long what he does is just that . You tell him half of your story, the next day he cooks up something and he sends it to the entire mail list. You better take care and keep your mouth shut when this dragon is anywhere close to you. We got screwed royally just as you had finished reading this story. Take care darlings.