Of course he is not a Muslim you dumb faggot, otherwise I
would had never dared to write that title. Don't strain yourself much. Your
brain cells are not capable of manipulating such complex facts and may explode.
What? I am insulting and mocking your mental capabilities by stating indirectly
that you are a dumb witted, half brained poor guy? No! That is not an insult
but a bitter(?) truth! Don't believe me? Okay, let me prove it. For instance, I
bet you have hardly noticed that in my previous entry, when I was explaining
the kinds of people, I used the word ‘kind’ only once while briefing about the
first category. For the second and third ones, I used ‘type’ instead of ‘kind’
which rather sounds very inhumane, cruel and cold hearted in terms of a living
being especially a human being. All right Sherlock, no need to jump quickly to
my previous entry and look for that. It only makes you much sillier than you
look. Moral of the story is, yup, my point is proved………… NA NA NA NANA NA NA NA
NANA………..
Okay, back to the concerned topic. So, you must be wondering
why I said that the guy in focus is a Muslim. Actually, I thought he was
Muslim. It just happened that before meeting him for the first time, my hostel
warden told me his name in such a queer accent that I was forced to think he
must be a Muslim. Immediately, the pictures of Bin Laden, Saddam and all those
badass Islamic guys started to cross my mind in a slide show. Sitting in my
room and waiting for him, I fumbled nervously my cloth bag trying to distract
my thoughts of picturing him. But as it is with all the super creative guys,
even when my hands were busy, (in fumbling the bag of course…….. you dirty,
dirty boy...... or girl.) my mind formed a conception of him without my permission; heavily
bearded (they all are bearded, aren’t they?), white like one of those dumb ass Americans…..
Or Europeans……. Or whatever exists in those western countries (Or in Kashmir, because in rest of the world, Muslims are as brown as baked wafers.), wearing that
typical black Kurta and Pyjama usually worn by the mutton selling Mamoos across
the street, muttering Urdu words all the time, doing Namaz ‘n’ number of times
in a day etc.
So you see, I was not really jolly with the prospect of
living with a Muslim guy because face it, you will never want to share anything
with one of them, will you? Lost in these thoughts, I suddenly heard someone
was banging the door. Hurriedly, I reached for it and opened it. There he was,
fulfilling only one out of five criteria I had expected; he was white for an
Indian. But not that queer and scary white, just white like normal white…… like
that white……aaah god damn it, it’s hard to explain.
He was holding a CPU in his hands. As soon as I opened the
door, he rushed inside and put the CPU on floor. “Hi, I am Shubhang” I said
nervously. Despite misunderstanding him for a Muslim, I was also his junior
with a gap of three years, so no attitude and funkiness or that kind of shit in
the first meeting. The guy was busy rummaging his wardrobe and while doing that
he told me his name (Which when I searched on net, found that actually is a
pure Hindi word for flower of god....found
in heaven...its serenity and beauty can dwell only there.... I can’t say how much
relieved I was). I was just about to ask him something else when he abruptly
turned to me and asked sharply, “Where are my books? Where are my certificates?”
I stammered and tried to reply, “I….. Well….um…”. My mind was wildly thinking
of some defensive posture from the numerous video games I had played in case
the guy attacks. But that passed. I was just about to take a deep breath when
he shouted again, “Fucking Mausi! She did it again!” and dashed out of room
like a lightning bolt. I was baffled and my mind had become numb from the
recent events. Slowly, I sat down and started to analyze what just had
happened. I came up with two conclusions: This guy is a Ninja and has gone
after some baddy named Mausi for revenge.
It was
like a dream come true. I had just started to picture the final battle when he
came back. “Sorry for that” he said, smiling, “It’s just that I have left some
of my books and certificates in the wardrobe and Mausi threw them thinking they
were garbage while cleaning the room.” I asked (to show my concern), “So? Now what?”
“Nothing” he said coolly, “I will manage it.” He still had to get some stuffs
back to room from one of his friend’s apartment, so he went away.
This
was how I met your mother……ooopssss….. I mean, this was how I met that guy
belonging to the third kind. It was a very strange introduction and from that
day onwards, we didn’t need any more of it. That very encounter was first of a
series of extraordinary events which happened with us. Mostly it consists of
his bizarre experiences of this world, but sometimes, it also consists of my baffling
involvements with….well…….this world…….
Hope you
liked this post. From my next entry, I will be sharing about all those experiences
which I am damn sure that you have never heard of or even have imagined. Good
night and sweet dreams……… Ya I know, that sweet dream part sounds really gay…………..
