Strike three...!
For those of you who have been nice enough to follow my blog for a while and have read a post of mine titled 'Three to tango..' will know what I'm talking about here. But for the ones who have decided to waste the next 10-15 minutes of their lives to read this nonsense for the first time, I'll unfortunately have to make you face the devil in the details. So, let's put this in chronological order, shall we?
Strike # 1
As you all know, I fell for Prachi in the year 2002. The first day of the college. This is the year 2010. So you can do the math as to how long I've been crying for the moon. The ups and downs in this journey of 8 years surely made this nothing short of a saga. The first two years of college went by staring at her from a distance of a good five to six yards. Then came the ladies room incident, which I like to call the 'LR debacle', in the month of September 2004, wherein I "supposedly" proposed to her. Just to make myself clear, I didn't propose to her. But whatever I did that day, as silly as it may sound, is something that I'm darn proud of. From 2004 onwards, ensued the relentless persecution, courtesy of her friends who would later be referred to as "A bunch of Prachi guys". In the process of being picked on by those vultures, any chances of me getting close to her began dwindling. Then came the year 2006. On the 1st of December, following a fortunate rencounter, I got a chance to get to know the girl of my dreams. All was going well, until the month of May, 2007. Things fell apart, we lost touch for a long time because of some outside interference. She made a comeback to my life at the fag end of 2008. Things were shaping up well, but then the momentum didn't sustain. Now she's busy in her life and her job and is doing pretty well on the career front. I haven't really spoken to her in a long time. It's been over a year since the last time I saw her. And that's all I have to say about that.
Strike # 2
Shifa still remains a mystery to me as well as to Sid. She came in at the start of 2008, and took off in not more than two or three months. But not before making an indelible impact on my life. She and I had hit it off immediately. We got real close. Then one fine day she thought that I was fake. I met her just twice after that. Once to hear her say that I'm fake and lots of other things that she called me in person. That's when the whole "You hate your father and you still were his shirts?" dilemma arose. Hey, I never said that she was the brightest girl that I fell for. And the second time she met me was when I had asked her to as I had nowhere else to go for a while because of personal reasons. But things didn't get better from that day onwards as one would expect. We lost touch again. I believe the last time I spoke to her was on the 12th of January, 2010. She asked me to write a poem about her, don't ask me why as I don't know. And of course, I obliged. But thereafter, once again, we lost touch. This one was a roller-coaster ride. Why? Because it had lots of highs and lows. And also because it got over no sooner than it started. And that's all I have to say about that.
Strike # 3
Oh, boy, this was the saddest of them all. Who says that "The best is saved for the last"? And who was that douche who said "Third time's a charm"? Anyway, Shweta and I met at ADMIS, my MBA institute. We began as good friends. I fell for her. She fell for someone else. They started going around. There was not much that I could do, except supporting those two knuckleheads. Once I cracked a filthy joke, which is a routine for me, that drove the lovebirds up the wall. We didn't talk to each other for a long time. Then I confronted her about the situation. We talked it out, she apologized and things came back on track by the end of my last semester of MMS. Or so I thought. I tried contacting her a good number of times after college ended, but she never answered the calls. Not even on her birthday this month. The next day though, she did pick up my call. Only to tell me that she had made a big mistake by being friends with me. And that she regrets meeting me in the first place and that I'm a "wrong person". Being as bewildered as I was, I tried to find the reasons behind this outburst of hers. As it turned out, on the basis of the details that her boyfriend chose to divulge, she never really liked me as such. She thought that I cracked filthy jokes and I'm not someone worth being around. I was pretty okay with that. But I wonder why she didn't tell me this in those two years when she was walking by my side and pretending to laugh on those very same jokes. But when things go wrong for her, and yes they will, she'll realize that she and her life have one thing in common. They're both bitches. And that's all I have to say about that.
Game over
On Ashu's advice, I promised him that I will delete these three numbers from my cell forever, the day he learnt about strike three. And I have lived up to my word. So the point is, that I got through all these strikes, I took all the blows, I went in that big bad dark world and came out of the other side, stronger than ever. I have no complaints about Shifa. She was stupid. Plus they haven't invented the technique of "Brain transplant" yet. So I guess it wouldn't have worked anyway. Darwin's theory believed in evolution. Today we all believe that apes evolved into humans. But this wouldn't have applied in case of Shweta. Once a bitch, always a bitch. That leaves us with Prachi. Some of you may think that I'm going back to square one. Well, quite frankly, in my defense, I don't think I ever got off square one to begin with. And I'm not sure if I ever will. So...strike one, strike two, strike three! I'm out! But I guess that's where baseball and life differ. In life, you're not out until you don't breathe your last. And I don't intend on doing that any time sooner. In life, you win or lose on the basis of the number of hits and misses that you had throughout this whole time. I don't know if I'm going to hit it out of the park this time or not. But just grabbing that darn bat again...sure feels good. As that dude in 'Signs' said...just swing away.
P.S.: The girls mentioned above cannot sue me as I have not mentioned their last names. So long, suckers! We're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs, drink up me 'earties yo-ho! And mates, that's the story of how I bored the crap out of the people who read this post. And that's all I have to say about that.
