An Orkut Love Story: Chapter 31

Yah! Yah! I finally made it. I am a UBC Champion. I registered in the nick of time for the challenge and the thought of making a novella, with Orkut as the backdrop flashed at the back of the mind. It was my way way to pay tribute to Orkut, my first love, who will soon be history. I was apprehensive since doing 31 chapters on 31 Days for a novella was quite a task. I know, the novella is not best seller stuffs but at least a start. It's fraught with mistakes and grammar confusion. Still, I am happy to live up to the challenge. My first ever novella, spanning over 31 days, on the blog.

Today is the final Day, Day 31: The novella 'An Orkut Love Story' is linked to Ultimate Blog Challenge for July 2014

An Orkut Love Story:

CHAPTER 31:

We’ve been drinking inside Uncle Vijay’s room and he faked fever to Swagata, oblivious of the happening inside the room. The clock struck midnight. Vijay uncle dumps me out of his room filled with cigarette smell and out pouring of alcohol.

I traipse towards Swagata’s room, holding a candle in my hand and slowly open the door. It’s dark inside. I can sense she is fast asleep, curled on the bed. I can’t help feeling the frantic heart-beat..dil dhadakne do! (Let the heart beat). After all, we will see each other after ages. Not in my wildest fantasy, I would imagine we would meet like that. 

‘You are what fairy tales princesses are made of’

‘You sleep like a cute baby’

 ‘Your angelic smile makes me want to fall in love over and over again with you’

‘Independent, incurable romantic who can feel the beauty and pain of love’

‘Your belief in our love makes you the most beautiful person on earth’

‘I promise to love you forever, take you to the gates of heaven’

‘I shall hold your hands till old age, narrate our love stories to our grand-children’

‘My love for you is like the vast ocean, Swagata De’

I hear someone making a slight movement on the bed, trying to slowly push out of the bed. I hold the candle right in front of her face.

“You?!” She is bewildered. “Shit! I got so scared, thinking a thief erupted inside the room or some ghost is lurking around.

I smile. “If you reject my proposal, I will turn into a lovable ghost and haunt you forever.”

“But! How you got inside the room? Did you climb? Has anybody seen you?,” She asks with a frightened face.

I put my finger on her lip. “Don’t say anything. Vijay told me everything and he took me here. Swagata, I love you. Will you marry me?,” I propose.

“Aisa koi propose karta hai kya (This is how someone proposes),” she asks with a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know any other way. Don’t worry about Tarun. Vijay told me everything.”

“Yeah, such a big asshole. It’s Vijay uncle, by the way.”

“Arre yaar! I recited a poem for you. A gift for you.” I give her the CD.”

“Wow! I can’t believe it. You are proposing to me with a CD of Amitabh Bachchan holding a gun in Ek Ajnabee. You are mad. It seems that I must teach you romance.”

Swagata opens the CD box and a red rose falls on her feet. She reads the note inside, ‘Listen to song no.3.’

She puts the CD in the lap top. The romantic song starts playing, ‘Tere liye Mere Sanson mujhe tum se pyar hai.’ She hugs me, her hands pressed on her face and tears rolling down on her cheek. “I love you too, Mr Karan. Will you marry me?”

I bend on my knee to kiss her hand, “I do, Swagata. I promise to love you, forever.”

Swagata face beams. “Hey! Let’s go on Orkut and flirt shamelessly like in the old days.”

It was my turn to protest, “Swagata, not now.”

She makes a face. “Please, please, please,” She pleads. “One last time, baby.”

We log in to see a message flashing, ‘We regret to inform you that Orkut is now closed.’

We made faces. Uncle Vijay joins us, singing, ‘Le Jayenge Le Jayenge, Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge.’ The three of us tightly embrace each other.

GOA

The calm water and gentle breeze flutter our hair as we walk, hand in hand at Palolem Beach, Goa. It’s midnight. Not a soul could be spotted on the beach. There is a sense of serenity as timid waves swoosh during the night and we steal innocent kiss, leisurely plodding our steps on the sand. It’s a beautiful and silent night.

We walk back to our shack. “Coffee, I ask?”

Swagata teases me, “Dunno, whether I should try your coffee.”

“Try me out, baby. I mean my coffee.”

“You are very metro-sexual,” she gets naughty, running her fingers on my chest.

“I am only sexual.”

We kiss each other and make intimate love. We are a newly engaged couple, dying to get married in three months here at Palolem Beach and planning for a huge red-designed Orkut logo.

The End.