"I am not your friend but want to be..."

(An sms chat-Real story) - 3^rd hobby tragedy-(1)
Dedicated to one who prompted this article and would understand it at best.

       

                                                      “Who are you?”

“I myself don’t know who I am.”

“Please tell me, who are you?”

“What will you do knowing my name?”

“Well, I know you are one of my friends.”

“I am not your friend but want to be.”

      During stay at home in vacations, after a long boarding, I do paintings and shape my fecund imagination in poems and articles to amuse myself; aforementioned two are my hobbies. I engage one more thing; recharge my mobile phone with free sms pack to send the messages to my friends in free hours. I like sending messages to my friends and receiving those from them; my third hobby like. In college, I am busy in study but at home, free for most of time; so I use to do all that stuff adequately at home in my daily routine with yoga, meditation etc. My third hobby is alluring to me mainly for two reasons. One, I am very irresponsible in making phone calls to my friends, obviously during hectic schedule of college and at home also. In such a case messages work as the threads to connect me to my friends and friends to me and save me from my grumpy friends who have complaints that I didn’t call them for so long. And two, I feel very congenial and stressfree when I receive various types of messages from my friends and read them; as there are a few girls also in friends’ circle. My Chatting with girls, it's not the flirting, sometimes it is so. It is friendship, and alas, it always limited to only friendship, it has never crossed the threshold limit. Really girls are the greatest magician in the universe, even a single flash thought of their does work.

This time, in summer, I had been come home after giving my B.Tech. 4^th semester examination, an unforgettable, imprinted event, or say a nightmare (whatever, not going to be discussed here. In future if I write an article on  reminiscent moments of college life, definitely I'll share all that secrets). As per interest, accorded with my third hobby, I sent some messages daily to my friends and got a few in return. One day during last days of the vacation, I got a ‘Shayari’ sms from an unknown number, BSNL probably.

“Who are you?” I messaged.

My mobile showed pending in delivery, arguably network problem.

“Who are you?” I retried.

“I myself don’t know who I am.” unknown replied romantically.

“Please tell me, who are you?” I insisted.

“What will you do knowing my name?” a limp reply.

It was clear, from unknown’s replies, that either unknown was a girl or trying to be. Well unknown was a ‘she’ either real or fake.

‘Any of my friends is making fun’ I thought.

It is common; friends try to make their friends fool on phone becoming a girl. I’d had the traumatic experiences before also.

“Well, I know, you are one of my friends.” I texted.

   “I am not your friend but want to be.” she replied.

‘Does really any girl want to be my friend? Thank God, if so.’ A flash thought sparkled in my mind and imparted the fire to my love-loving heart.

“Come to eat ‘Arhar ki dal’.” I got another dispensable message in ‘Buy one get one free’ offer with previous sms, as if ‘Arhar ki dal’ was being offered with the friendship.

I was baffled why she had sent that message. Before I could ask anything...

“Sorry, that message delivered to you by mistake.” she said.

‘Is she my cousin, uncle’s daughter?’ I thought for a while as they (cousin sisters) used to call me on meal, but from the chat style, it was hard to perceive that they had planned. I still believed that any friend was kidding, but also having a 25% of optimism in my mind that wild card might be a girl who was not my friend but wanted to be; with that sanguine 25%, I was 100% happy.

“I don’t have friendship without any acquaintance.” I texted. “So first tell me about you.”

“I have seen you once and I know your name.” she replied.

        “Oh! You have seen me and know my name. Then what did you like, me or my name, so that you want to be my friend.” I commented.

“You also were not so bad, though a little sober, but your name is well good, ‘Akash’.” she insultingly praised.

Her chat style and language were strange to me. Definitely she was not my pre-existing friend.

“Wow! Lure of my name. You don’t like me still you want to be my friend only for that my ‘name’ is good; Do you choose your friends according to their names, and if you do so, there are many people, adolescents also, having the same name as that of me” I commented.

    “Then why did you choose me?” I asked.

“You, also alright.” she texted, mumbled.

‘No one can like a person for his name. No, it’s nonsensical; she definitely likes me and that’s why she wants to be my friend.’ I thought ‘I hate girls, they have so much ego or patience, I don’t know, they never say to boys directly what they want or like.’

I hated the girls not for that I really hate the girls but for that I wanted to be loved.

“Have I also seen you?” I quizzed.

“I don’t know; I know only that I saw you. That’s it.” she answered.

“Ok, when and where did you see me?” I inquired further.

“Two years back.” she replied.

“Where?” I added.

“Don’t ask me ‘where’.” she bit me.

I thought for a while and tried to recapitulate all the moments, places, functions... where if I had met any girl or any girl might have noticed me, two years back; but I couldn’t find even a vague clue.

“Ok, where do you live?” I asked.

“Oh! Again you are asking me ‘where’.” she exasperated me.

‘Every dog has its day.’ I thought. This is very typical saying as one who uses it for the others is itself compared with dog.

“You are baiting me or is it your habit? Whatever, that’s not fair. You mean I shouldn’t ask you any question. Ok, I stop, now nothing remains to say.” I grumbled.

I believed that she could tell me about herself after she would feel my annoyance but...

 “Don’t be angry buddy, if you think that I am teasing you, I could thwart the chat.” she texted innocently and cleverly against my belief.

She had told this so easily and simply because she definitely knew that she was a girl and I was a boy, and no boy would like to stop a girl talking to him. All girls use to be cheaters, they always want to be on safer side. They show that they want nothing and everything is wanted by boys only. I again hated the girls. I was irritated on her reply but I felt the deterioration in our chat-relation and...

“No dear, I am not annoyed with you. That’s my habit not the anger at all. Friends should know each other and we are going to be friends. Isn’t it?”I cajoled.

“S-s-so please tell me about you.” I texted, stuttered.

“Ok, I tell. I live in Meerut, Subhash Nagar.” she replied “You can also tell me, where you live.” she asked as if she didn’t want and was doing the mercy asking about me; after all she was a girl. I didn’t hate the girls this time; I thought why I should hate His best creation, ‘flagship’ so much.

I didn’t answer.

“Do you have any name? If, please tell me.”I pleaded.

“No, I can’t.” she replied.

“What?” I asked, surprised.

“I don’t want to tell you my name.” she replied.

“How obnoxious you are! You want to be my friend and want to know about me but you don’t like to tell anything about you. You are simply making me fool?” I texted in anger.

“My name is very ugly; you would laugh if you hear the name.” she texted dismaying.

“I shall not.” I replied.

‘If I would feel to laugh, I’ll not show you.’ I thought.

“You will.” she texted.

“Ok, I swear, I will not mock you. Now tell me...” I persuaded her.

“Mitthu.” her message muttered.

 ‘What? I had been thought you a girl but you are a parrot, Mitthu’ I thought as ‘Mitthu’ resembled me a parrot’s name. I was going to text but my retentive memory hit my mind that I had sworn and I had to swallow my unsaid words not for that I was very interested or moral to keep my promise but for the reason that I was scared of, she could have thwarted the chat. Instead....

“Wow! Mitthu, that’s a nice name. Mitthu means sweetu, that’s so sweet.” I appreciated unwillingly.

“Thanks for your courtesy.” I could get but didn’t.

“Mitthu would be your nick name, what is your real name?” I harried.

“What is in name, leave it.” she texted.

“Name has very much significance. You didn’t like me; it is my name that you liked.” I commented “...so tell me your name.”

“My name is Jaspreet.” she texted.

 Such names like 'Jaspreet' are generally found in Sikhs. ‘Are you a Sikh’ I just wanted to ask but before I could text, my phone was loaded with her next message.

“Now you tell me about you. Where do you live?” she asked.

Then she had the right to query and I was obliged to answer as I had asked, sorry, begged a bit information about her so far.

“Pheena. Have you heard this name?” I answered.

“No. In which district is it?” she inquired.

“Bijnor. Do you know it?” I texted.

“I have heard the name ‘Bijnor’ but never went there.” she replied.

“Ok.” I texted.

“Is Pheena town or village?” she asked.

“Village.” I answered literally and didn’t show off saying it was a town as I rarely lie.

Then I took the strike.

“What do you do?” I asked.

“B.tech.” she answered.

(I didn’t expect her to give the answer so easily.)

“Which year?” I asked further.

I actually wanted to take an idea about her age.

“2^nd year” she replied.

I felt happy finding her my year-mate in the degree.

“From where?” I inquired.

“Meerut.” she replied.

She was giving me the replies as if she was directed or ordered-‘Give the answer in one word’, and that was making me feel guilty to query.

“Which college?” I asked hesitating.

I felt as if I was ragging my junior who was frightened of and giving only a single word answer or I was being ragged as I had to ask one question in three parts.

“BIT, Meerut.” she answered.

‘Thank God, this time there are two words in the answer.’ I thought.

“Now you tell me where you saw me?” I returned to my earlier question beseeching.

This time I was a little optimistic that she might answer the question. I keenly waited for.

I got no reply for two minutes. I felt my optimism mutating into pessimism.

“Hi.” I delivered.                                                                     

My mobile was still dumb.

“Hey, my curiosity is levitating. You can’t leave me inquisitive, please text something.” I pleaded.

Still she quit.

“Hi, Hii, Hiii....” I wrote anxiously but all in vain. I got no reply.

Then I left or had to leave, and what could I do else?

I was restless but I didn’t call her. After all I also had some self-respect. ‘Boys also have some value, not only the girls.’ I thought. I recalled the proverbs and consoled myself –

# Contentment is happiness.

# God’s will be done.

‘Curiosity; curiosity to know ‘who was she?’ has more pain than anything else.’ I felt.

Even after my head hit the pillow at night I went on thinking and trying to guess who she was. It doesn’t mean that I didn’t sleep over the whole night but, yes, definitely I spent some time restlessly on the bed before sleep closed my eyes.

Generally sleep flees out of eyes in such situations. My sleep also fled but not for whole night.

Night had been passed .In the morning, as daily routine, after taking bath, I was doing yoga; suddenly the catchy tune from my mobile fell into my ears. My mobile was on charging beside me, I immediately picked up the mobile. Mobile screen was displaying- ‘1 message received’ and the sender was the unknown number who had imparted me the sweet pain of.....what to say? Hope u (specially boys) understand it.

I quickly opened the message –

“Hi, Good morning.” she had written.

That was an ineffable moment for me. I was so much euphoric and ecstatic as if I had received a call letter for a reputed and fantastic-remunerated job.

“Good morning.” I replied immediately.

“Sorry, yesterday I became busy in some work so couldn’t reply you.” she apologised.

“It’s ok.” I texted though it was not ok but what could I say else? After all I had to dig out some information that she had. 

 “Don’t you do anything? Always remain free.” she texted.

‘What does she think and want to show? She is very busy and I am free, wasting time.’ My self-respect struck me.

“I am doing B.Tech from NIT Durgapur”I flaunted. “And nowadays I am spending vacations at home.”

“NIT, Good. Which year?” she asked.

“I have passed my 2^nd year.” I replied.

“Your 4^th semester result has been declared?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“How is that?”

“My S.G. is 7.92 and C.G. is 8.37. Do you know about S.G. and C.G?”

She was supposed  to be unfamiliar with the terms (C.G. she would definitely know but as ‘centre of gravity’.) because in private colleges or most of colleges, percentage system is followed in place of grade system.

“No, I don’t know.” she replied.

“S.G. is semester grade, C.G. is cumulative grade, and we get these out of 10.” I annotated.

“What about yours?” I asked formally.

“Not declared yet.” she replied. That I already knew as some of my friends had been studying in the same university.

“Ok.” I texted.

“Are you on ‘orkut’?” I asked expectantly.

As she was not disclosing her identity I wanted to know her through orkut.

“Yep.” she replied.

“Can you give me your mail ID?” I keenly asked.

“Real ID?’ she replied.

“What do you mean by ‘real’? Do you want to give me fake one?” I asked intentionally.

“No, I am asking this because when you know my ID you will be shocked.” she replied.

‘Who is she? Is she making fun of me?’ I thought and felt her mockery.

“Why?” I eagerly asked.

“Because I know everything about you.” she replied.

“what?” I stunned.

“I know everything about you.” she repeated.

“What are you saying? Who are you?” I asked, perplexed.

“You know me.” she said.

‘Have I been deceived? I felt gullible.

“Yah, I know, you are friend of mine. I have told this earlier also that you are one of my friends.” I said showing my smartness.

“No. I am not your friend.” her message laughed at me.

 I found myself hoaxed completely.

“Then you would be my cousin sister.” I said as if I had guessed her, though after ‘friend’, ‘sister’ was the only option that had to be right.

“Ok, I am your sister.” she agreed “But who, bro...?” she asked.

‘Now I should not show more smartness as I had enough so far.’ I thought sarcastically.

“I don’t know.” I said simply.

“Take a guess.” she said.

I couldn’t guess because whoever she was had never made fun like that before.

“I can’t guess. Please tell me your name.” I said.

“You should have had my phone number.” she said “It’s your fault bro.”

“Ok baba, It’s my fault, but can you forgive me now?” I said as if I was a big culprit.

“Please tell me your name” I beseeched.

“Find yourself.” she kicked me out.

 “Don’t be so mysterious, tell me your name.” I said, irritated.

“Find yourself.” she repeated.

I also wanted to tell her name before she herself would to regain my lost smartness or to save that was rest. So I speeded up my agile mind, definitely I used a greater percentage of my mind and at a higher rate than as usual. ‘Definitely she is my sister, she is.....’ My eyes fell on another mobile (home mobile) that was on the table beside me. I quickly picked up the mobile and dialled her number...

Calling...

09410885938

My idea had been succeeded. Mobile screen displayed –

Calling...

Ambuj

(Ambuj is the youngest daughter of my younger ‘Bua ji’ (Father’s sister) and one year younger to me. At present she is pursuing B.Tech.) 

“Ambuj” I replied very quickly.

“I don’t know, tell me confirm.” she said.

“Yep, I am 100% confirm, you are Ambuj.” I replied.

“Yah bro, I am Ambuj. Sorry ‘bhai’ I teased you.” she said. “.... but it’s your mistake you should have had my number.” she still blamed me, natural and genuine habit or say a characteristic of girls.

“Ambuj...very puckish. Well, nice to talk to you. Whatever happens happens for good. I got a new topic for my article.” I proceeded.

“Ok. But now save my number carefully.” she commented.

“How did you come to know my name?” she keenly asked.

I grinned and thought-‘I have found her name very smartly.’ It was really smartness after being hoaxed for so long.

“You have to wait to know that.” I replied. I tried to show as if I was very smart despite the fact I had been deceived but whatever, that was my time when I had the answer and she had the query, then how could I tell her so easily?

“Wait! But how long?” she asked, scrawled.

“You have to wait till my article comes.” I replied.

“That would be too long bro.” she said, disappointed.

“So far I waited for my curiosity, now you have to.” I said as if I was taking the revenge.

“Ok, bye....Take care sis.” I ended the chat.

“Ok bye.” she replied.