The Valentine’s Day Story ………….

14th February, 2013

The Valentines Day Story,

He sent her a red Rose and She accepted his friends request on Facebook, and the story started.

The Love Affair was arranged, so they could fall in Holy Matrimony. Facilitated by family and friends they were introduced to each other, to get to know each other, tie the knot, forget their Once upon a times,  and live Happily Ever After.

As expected, they exchanged numbers, texts and calls, she liked his dreamy, delicious voice, and he couldn’t resist her sharp sense of humor and innuendo. She was a 34 years old, self-made, self-obsessed, foul mouthed, short tempered shopaholic. Working and minting money in UK, with an IQ of more than 140, a rare combination of beauty, brains and boobs.  He, just celebrated his 50th, a type 2 diabetic, golfer, swimmer, fitness freak. Some big shot businessman  living in LA, who owned a Road King Classic, Harley Davidson. Oh, the Harley melted her heart, so did the beautiful house in suburbia, not to mention the fact that his mother, adored her.

Common Factor: Divorce, she had hers nearly a decade ago and finally decided to give it a go again, he got his a few weeks back, and wanted an easy, rapid fix, or a legal fuck buddy. The pursuit of pleasure without guilt, the longing to belong, social pressure, recession, ennui from daily grind, a need for someone to cook “karelay gosht”, do the groceries, pay off the debts  and failed marriages led to an immaculate conception…. And a fiery, feisty, whirlwind Romance was born.

Man!!! the Romance flourished like terrorist attacks all over the globe. It survived against all the odds, the distance of 4762 miles, different time zones, Strange Accents (He spoke American with a typical Californian drawl, she………. British English..But they shared a common interest in innovative Punjabi Profanities), two kids, huge phone bills, and an age difference of 16 years.

She nursed his broken heart, his bruised ego  and his shrunken self esteem, entertained his drunk calls way past midnight, answered all his questions, helped him un pack the baggage from the past. The affair got public, too public, texting became sexting, calls were punctuated by heavy rugged breaths, pictures exchanged were explicit. He introduced her to rock music and she made sure he listened to Daru Desi. She saved his number by the name of “Inomarato” ( that means ‘my Lover’ in Italian………Cheesy…).

They shared stories about the demons of past haunting them, stories of good times, bad times, ……First Times…..HARD times…….. And when on April 24th he told her he deeply cared for her and is very Fond of her… and asked her to marry him, she changed her Facebook relationship status from single to “In a Relationship”……wore his initials in her neck and made it her cover photo……….In short, she fell head over high heels in “ISHQ WALA LOVE” with him……… LAME.

She was in a habit of falling for assholes, there was a string of them, good looking assholes, commitment phobic, damaged, broken species of male kind. She was a fixer, she took every guy as a project, repaired and mended him, made him a useful functional member of the society, before getting dumped and forgotten. The perfect fill gap arrangement for Fuck ups, the best band aid in town. But he was different. A very nice guy, well spoken, well behaved, mild mannered, cultured, decent, wealthy……….( A Refined, mature, …….chutiya….., type of asshole).

Fast forward a few months, two super smart people, using very smart phones, (he an I phone guy and she an android Gal), made the dumbest decision of their lives, to meet, in August, at Eid, in the loud, noisy, chaotic city of Lahore……( London, LA, Lahore…..Losers)  Since they were both very sensible, grown-ups, they decided that there is a fair chance (33%) that they might get hitched in the same trip, in the city they both loved……….(That was what she understood and 33% seemed like a good bet, so she played the biggest gamble of her life, a reckless risk taker she was)

She left for Pakistan early and he came after a few days, and “Tab they met”, for the first time. He saw her …….. pretty, young, full of energy… she saw him ……. short, dark, not-so-handsome, hair having more than fifty shades of grey…. But Love is blind, and in her case it was stupid too. She drove him across town, took him to see a Bollywood movie in the cinema with a lot of touchy feelies, invited him to her place, and cooked for the bastard. She even let him hold her, kiss her, hug her and play with her hair (a thing she never allowed any one to do).

On Eid day, sitting in Gloria Jeans, he asked, Do you want to marry, or do you want to marry me?? Confused, she didn’t give an answer but asked the same question from him, he held her hands and replied….In the same husky voice that always turned her on, I want to marry, and I want to marry YOU… you are the best choice that I have…….Sure of a happy ending, she bought her shaadi ka jora, and jewellery, finalized the food and flower arrangements for a small Nikah reception, told all her friends and family, booked two return tickets and paid fully for a non-refundable luxurious fancy holiday for two at Le Meridian Khao Lak Beach and Spa Resort , Thailand. (he didn’t know, as she wanted to surprise him),

Then she had “Mehndi” applied on her hands.

The Valentines Day Story, Mehndi On Hands

(She felt happily delirious, so delirious she forgot that there is no formal proposal in place by his family).

Two days passed, no calls, no contact……frantic…. she called her best friend, (who introduced them), who broke the news that he was leaving for US, big mess up at work, and he liked her a lot, but “itna bhi nahin keh uss say shaadi hi kar loon”….In fact, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to get married at all…… Devastated, she drove to his place, put the last shreds of dignity she had at his feet, swallowed her pride, and begged him…. For an answer, an explanation… a validation of her self……a return on her investment of emotions….

But the FTSE index for the shares of hopes and dreams was down that day…and the exchange rate for the currency of feelings against dollar was way below Zero….. Zilch… Nada ..…

Marry me, PLEASE!!!…….for God sake…..what happened to us??…she sobbed…. And he replied in his very calm American accent that he was at a stage of his life where he wanted to have peace and quite, and he wasn’t sure he could handle THIS!!!

This???? …………….. So she was a “THIS” now, the demotion from “Ruj Kay Sohni” and “Hukum Baigam Sahiba”  to “this” was ….HUGE…. . But he wished her all the best for the future and made a promise that he will let her know his answer in 60 days, and made it loud and clear that he didn’t want her to contact him, by any means. The promise was made in front of his noble and respected family, the family in which she already enjoyed the un official status of Ghar- Ki- Bahu, where she was present at every wedding and funeral, modestly dressed with covered arms and head.

He called her on his way to the airport, explaining that he wasn’t sure who she was, he had the nerve to tell her that men didn’t respect her because she was very flirtatious, and that was the reason she was still single ….. he accused her of being  too dramatic, theatrical, intense, and too attached to her family and told her how slutty she was to wear a new dress and matching nail color each day…he made it clear that God Forbid, he was not judging her, because if he did, he wouldn’t even sit with her at the same table for dinner…

She felt so ashamed of herself……

He also said that she had such a vivid imagination, she imagined they were having a relationship……..(the 1567 texts, 1240 viber, 847 vonage messeges and 732 likes on facebook, were all a product of her fucked up fantasy),  and he hated the fact that she shared everything on social media ..…(in short, who the hell she thought she was, to say no, when he wanted to screw her??)…he asked her to forgive him…and reminded her how big a man is who says Sorry…..

An idiot she was, she believed every single word of bullshit that came out of the motherfuckers mouth……she cried, pure Bollywood style… and told him she loved him, and it’s a huge loss……. to which he graciously replied that he was more than happy to compensate for her financial loss…… BHENCHOD….

But life went on, she went back to England, as she had to work to support herself and her family. Totally and utterly confused she arrived at Heathrow terminal 3, on 14th September. She missed him….Big Time, loved him desperately, wanted to know, where and how did it all went so horribly wrong…..she needed closure… kept on texting and calling him…… And then she sent him an e mail……Pathetic………

…………………………………………. 

She signed it off with …………. Still Bitterly Yours! 

No reply yet.

The illicit, retard child of their romance got badly neglected and was soon on life support, She never had the courage to pull off the plug, while he didn’t have the guts to own and bring it back to life.

October…. 2013……….

She decided to go back. She left her job, her career, a wardrobe full of designer clothes and shoes, her Mercedes, Her Mortgage, Her Barclays Platinum credit card, and came home, empty handed, to her parents…. She cried in front of them after so many years…. they never asked any questions… and taught the sweet child of theirs to stand and walk on her own again…. Her sisters were pillars of support, so were the brothers in law….they Made rude songs and poems about him and sang….in their horrible voices.

December…….. 2013 ……….

She sent him some novelty golf balls as a Christmas present and asked……… Have you got enough balls to talk to me now??? ……..…CUTE…………Deep down, a little part of her heart ached for him………she was a nice girl.

January…. 2014 …..

A couple of stray texts to wish each other Happy New Year.

Some humiliating public meltdowns and meticulously- planned- un attempted- suicidal- thoughts later, she resumed life, and met with a crazy bunch of dysfunctional girls, who became her life line…….

Her gorgeously handsome steady best/boyfriend for last nine years offered everything he could, hugs, a shoulder to cry on, wipes, joints ………. booze. She ignited few new flames, Stirred up some controversy, and started writing ………… it helped …………………………A LOT……….!!!!

Valentine’s Day, 2014

He is holidaying in Hawaii, probably with his rich, fat, old, American girl friend, (the big mess up at work still there).

She still wears a new dress and matching nail color every day and For the first time in her life, is not in Love with anyone…… She has a Facebook Page, and is very active on Twitter and WordPress too…… She is thinner and wiser ….Her imagination is more vivid and vivacious………………….. And she is at her Flirtatious BEST.

They Live happily…………FUCK…………..Everafter………..

Seemi.

14th February, 2014. 

 

(This story does not make any sense, it is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any one, is purely intentional)

©BoldieTalks. 

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10 thoughts on “The Valentine’s Day Story ………….

  1. Can you believe that!!! The Punjabi delicacies are just so well positioned as if they are escaping my mouth. Near the end, I was like please don’t, no don’t say it! But you’ve got a braver heart than most of us. Any good work has to be produced after we sift through our deepest feelings n fears and after many a tears leave our eyes. Splendid work!

    Sent from my BlackBerry® Smartphone using Telenor Connection.

    Like

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