Of dreary stories and a bit of Love, on the big V Day.

There are a few stories we like telling, over and over, several times, despite knowing fully well, the person whom the story is being narrated to has been an audience before, more than just once. But we like these pet stories. And these are just about one or 2 stories which we adore so much. This especially comes from old nostalgic uncles and aunties, who switch to a flashback black and white mode, eachtime they see a gathering in front of them. One goes about my dad, which he has told us at least 30 times. He does it each time we are together and after a couple of scotch pegs. The story is about his college days.

And then there is a story which we love telling. About us. Raj and me. We love telling this story to our friends, much to their dismay, and to our delight. we can’t be happier on having a new friend over for dinner. On most such occasions, we end up telling our pet story, for sure, before the guest leaves. And we really never bother to check, if we’ve bored him/her. This is after all a story of how Raj met KG. And a story so important cannot be rated as good/bad/ugly. Its is simply, a nice, happy, plain love story. Boy pings girl, girl pings back. Yahoo! was the place to be, then. A few smilies exchanged. Slowly a few ‘coochiepoochie’ words too. Then more pings, regularly at 7 pm after college. STD calls too, follow suit. More money is requisitioned from Hyderabad. More calls. More vada-paus for lunch to save 10 bucks for an hour of internet at 7pm. Then some train journeys undertaken- some in unreserved compartments. Then the big words told, accepted, eaten, chewed and digested. But we love the part when the listener asks- so where did you first meet/where do your parents live? Either of this question, makes us both very happy. We have this gleam in our eyes to tell the answer. As if, we’ve been waiting for the question. And if the question is not asked, we tell the clearly not so amused listener- our very amusing (according to us), anyway. With a twinkle in our eye, with a quick glace at each other, we announce the fact that we both lived in the same building. His family on the first floor, mine on the fourth. Incidentally, they still do. Once we’ve done saying this, we wait for the surprise, the exclamations, the bowled over look – now these are expressions we think we see on their faces. For all you know and care, they find this very mundane.

But then, that’s ALL that is there to our story. Two little crows fall in love, both from the same tree, different nests.

But we love this story. And we expand the story manifold, with twists and turns, like a murder mystery. And it always delights us. Now that you’ve read this the zillionth time, be prepared to hear it again, from our own mouths, whenever meet again, over beer and nachos.

Because each time I say it, it makes me fall in love with this totally tactless, charming, mad, clumsy, loving man over and over again.

Happy Valentine’s.