A LOT LIKE LOVE, A li’l Like Chocolate
SYNOPSIS:
He’s a player. She knows the rules. They meet. Smile. Talk. Add each other on Facebook. Exchange BB pins. He asks her out for coffee. She agrees. Another coffee follows. So do movies, drives, moonlight walks, study dates, sneakouts, make out sessions.
Shadab and Arnika.
Both eighteen. Committed. In a relationship.
It’s a perfectly clichéd bubblegum love story…or is it?
… For love today, comes with a ‘conditions apply’.
Career. Ambition. Practicality.
Different colleges. Different countries. Different aspirations.
A long-distance relationship.
They decide to give it a shot. Skype video calling. BBM. Lists of do’s and don’ts. Fidelity checks. Promises.
They’ve planned it all out.
But can love be planned?
Is chocolate a safer proposition for the heart?
Is cheating on your partner an offence only if your partner comes to know about it?
What happens when you’re in something which is A lot like love…a li’l like chocolate???
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SUMRIT SHAHI:
Hardly an author, as he proclaims. Sumrit Shahi, at 18, is as confused as before, but just more sophisticated about it.
His debut novel at the age of 17, Just Friends, is a national bestseller.
With a killer ability to play with words, which he isn’t remotely humble about, writing for him is a passion which pays surprisingly well. A resident of Chandigarh, alumnus of St. John’s High School and Bhavan Vidyalaya, he is currently pursuing his first year at Symbiosis School for Liberal Arts, Pune.
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EXCERPTS:
“And that’s how it began…or ummm…perhaps…rather ended!”
27th May 2010
“So…are you sure, you want to do this?”
“Yyess…(this time firmly) yes!”
“Nervous?”
“A little.”
“We could do this later…I mean, when you’re comfortable with the idea.”
“No…this had to happen anyway. So, can we just get over with this quickly, now?”
“We could go back to my place and do it…it’ll be easier…it’s just seven in the morning…sneaking in won’t be an issue.”
“Shadab, stop being the princess in the situation! The car is comfortable enough.”
The tension in the air-conditioned black Ford Endeavour, with equally black-tinted glasses and folded back seats, standing in the secluded parking lot of their gym, is overwhelming.
HE takes a deep breath and reaches for his shorts.
SHE closes her eyes in anticipation.
“Did you open it?” her voice is a whisper.
His fingers work faster than the GPRS on his mobile and finally it loads.
Shadab and Arnika.
Both eighteen.
In love. Well, something like that.
In the most crucial act of their lives.
Yes! Board results. They weren’t supposed to be out till next evening but apparently CBSE had got an early hard on and it couldn’t stop itself from screwing the odd million lives associated with the declaration of the Class XII results.
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3rd October 2010
Those three magical words. They make the world go round. And round. And round. And round. Those three magical words. The essence of any relationship. Those three magical words. They sprinkle freshness into the most grim situations. Those three magical words. They bind. Sometimes way too closely. Those three magical words. The glory of sunrise. The romanticism of moonlight. Those three magical words. It takes bush-cricket testicles to mutter them. It takes multilayered foundation capacity to absorb them.
Those three magical words. They end every fight. Dilute every misunderstanding. Clear every misconception. Kill all the arguments. Bring smiles. Satiate the ego pangs.
Those three magical words.
“I WAS WRONG!”
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And there’s water…from the clouds…from the eyes…
26th September 2010
Rain. The soft showers, the cold breeze, the tingling music of the droplets. The failure of the drainage system. The roads leaking, puking like they’ve had neat Vodka and forgotten the lemons. The colourful umbrellas. The heads which collide behind them. Rain. The car mirrors which get fogged simply by mere verbal interactions. The clothes deciding to commit themselves to the body. The B looking like a D. The hands squeezing everything that’s round. Rain. The couples everywhere. Hand in hand. Arm in arm. That in that. The birds. Chirping like they’ve decided to go for a mammoth gang-bang!
“It’s raining and I feel lonely. I miss you.”
Is what Shadab’s updates as his facebook status as he sits by the window, stretched legs, laptop heating his crotch and the wind spraying a few raindrops on his face.