Skip to main content


We both didn’t talk for long. Both were sad. Me and Santanu.
I was slowly sipping the cocktail. Two shots of whisky with one of a gin and two hints of rum…sponsored by santanu. I needed a hard punch. Let my system get poisoned. May god not recover me from the shock.

Santanu’s long-term girlfriend Sohini getting married today. Santanu was sad. I could see the loss on his face. I was sadder, there was no mirror nearby to see my expressions. Santanu is a very dear friend of mine. We grew up together. Saw our first adult movie together.

I tried to comfort him, “have a sip will forget your pain.”
--no, I won’t friend. At least today I will not. I have to do a lot of work now. Its ok if my family knows that I am drunk, but Sohini’s parents should not. It will be a disgrace. I don’t want them to realise anything.”
I understood. I didn’t pestered him. I suddenly remembered devdas.

Santanu closed his eyes in pain, “time is ticking by. I am going to lose everything. I swear I will not be the same as I used to be. I will change my friend. Evrything will be lost by then.”
--yaa, I understand. Change is inevitable.
“I am gonna lose evrything”, he sinked further into his sorrowness.
I patted him on his back, “mard ban, be a man…”
--yaa, I need to be. But friend I am going away from this place. I will start living in himalayas. I will miss you all.
--don’t worry. You can always get back to us via phone. The world is too small, we wil also miss you dost.
--take care of my parents.

He sounded like an introvert, “I love sohini”
“me too…, “ said I, in a whispering tone.
--you said anything…
--no, nothing really. Punch is hard.
--friend …everything is getting lost with every passing moment. The load is getting heavier. Like a stone tied on my chest. I am losing my existence. Just a few hours left. You will see, I will be changed into a complete stranger to you. Don’t blame me for that friend.
--sure, I understand.

Next half an hour went pass in complete silence.
Santanu was changing with every passing minute. The lines on his face was getting harder and harder. As if he is preparing himself for a great battle.
Or was it the drink? I had gulped four pegs by then.
Suddenly santanu sprang up from the sofa.
“but why should I change…”
--yes, thattttsssss the QuesTIon. WHy shOULd yoU chANge…”
--why should I change for a girl. Yes it’s true that I had loved her. I love her, but why should I change myyself for a girl?” he protested.
Again he relapsed into his old thoughts, “I am going to the himalays my friend…”

I couldn’t utter a single word. I was morbid. I gulped the peg at one go.

There was a knock at the door. Somebody came and told something to santanu.

He came to me and said, “you carry on drinking my friend. I have to go now. These people will not understand my pain. I ahev to go to the market to fetch some goodies. Before her marriage, sohini also want to talk to me. I have to call her. After tonight…” he sighed.
I raised my glass, “before going, have a peg, just gulp it, it is smooth..”
--Not today yaar. Goodbye.
He left the room.

Go, go my friend. So what if you are losing your freedom? So what if you don’t remain that carefree, dare-devil friend of us? So what if your life is going to chanmge for ever? So what if you are no more the same santanu we treasure? So what if you don’t remain a bachelor anymore?
All cons are outweighed by one pro…YOU ARE GETTING SOHINI.

Next to aishwarya rai if there is anybody in my life, that’s sohini, your would be wife.
I loved you sohini. I tried to marry you sohini. Even today I tried to make santanu drunk. So that your parents refuse to marry you to a drunkard who drinks even on his marriage day. But I failed sohini. I am a complete failure in my life.

Santanu, I am not angry over you. I am only jealous.
Your nights will be spent in the arms of my darling sohini. What a nice heater you got this winter. My pillows are my only hope. I have to hug them even now, like I have hugged them for the last 12 years.
And how lucky bastard you are. You got a transfer to shimla. Bloody, people go there for honeymoon. Your company transferred you there with a promotion. Happy perpetual honeymoon dear. Bhagwan jaab deta hai, chappar phar ke deta hai. Bhogoban, tuni ekchokkhoo.

Happy marrieage my friend. Wish you a happy sex-life.


Chaila Bihari said…
What after that...
What's on at Santanu's end?
Man 2 things are possible:
a> They live happily ever after— IMAGINE. Just imagine, how boring that would be. They wake up every morning & see eah other's face... Santanu, Sohini... Sohini, Santanu. On & on & on... heje jabe be.
b> They don't live happily ever after— Then, in the first place, you never lost it.
SO cheers & make the peg as Patiala as u can
Nana said…
Sohini and the names continues....
so whats ur take , ur contended with the fairy tale ending "They lived happily ever after".
Or will you continue your antics and try and rock their marriage?
Some don't ever give up!
gypsy said…
hahhaa...oh!! you poor chap you actually believe that a happy marriage an a happy sex life go hand in hand!!! LOL!
Live in that fairy tale of yours for a bit longer dear fool
I will gift you a revolver and a bottle of whiskey. Go ahead. Do it, man!
Tiny Black Cat said…
hehe... me found the story a bit bizarre because for the first time, both the names belonged to people i knew. i tried to constantly picture them in the situations till the story turned so unbelievably ridiculous... me still can't stop laughing.

and yeah, before i forget, you have been linked. where's my treat?
Ghetufool said…
i am deeple drowned into sorrow. patiala is not evn enough to console me.
i know they will be bored looking at each other. but the first year, do they really need to look into other things?
how i will spend one year from now. ambaler jalar sathe madan jalao je boro jalay...
Ghetufool said…
yes i have to do something. no i will not give up. will try to rocki their regular rockings. will keep posted about the development.
Ghetufool said…
i want to live in the fairy-tale forever. and believe me. i am very romantic person. i will always believe in this fairy-tale. that's the secret of life dear.
Ghetufool said…
do they allow blogging to a death-row convict?
i seriously doubt your friendship man. hmmm...
Ghetufool said…
thanks that you liked it.
thanks also for the linking.
regaring your reward...
well, did i ask it from you when i linked you first?
and still if you persist...
here it goes:
Tiny Black Cat said…
hehe... boro-ra chay na. chhoto-ra chay. and hint to what kind of treat is being demanded is there in the description of my blog. lol, lol, lol...
Ghetufool said…
is that pat and chocolate you demand feline?
yoll get it. hope to see you and joykrit in kolkata. but that's quite a few months. april end, if i am not thrown out from the company by then. in that case only pat, i may not have the money to buy you a chocolate.
i am sinking the company big-time.
Pip Squeak said…
SIGH!so, you're romantic by nature eh? big mistake. BIG mistake.

if what you've written is true, you're not a true friend dude. true friends are fair come hell or high water. even at the cost of themselves. if a friendship to you menas watching your first adult film together, imagine how lioghtly you treat the bond. I understand that you treat your bond with a girl with more importance though. to each his own...
Ghetufool said…
oops pip,
i am afraid of you. i am afraid to know this fact that some people are taking my posts literally. thinking these are true.
bare ho jao bacche.

my friends consider me as a true friend indeed, and i have never stabbed them. will never do that.
i seriously doubt whether you believe there is any such world as that one portrayed in harry potter, if your answer is yes, i would not be surprised. cause it is written by somebody.
may be because of kids like that, they give the sign in movies, "all the characters..."
i understood it is a necessity.
Anonymous said…
Fool dude, just remember, 'LOVE KE LIYE SALA KUCH BHI KAREGA
'...stabbing bhi karega, rocking bhi karega....soch mat aur kar daal...

Popular posts from this blog

Let it rain hard

About a dozen years back, I started writing blog posts out of sheer boredom in office. The work was repetitive and the bosses were menacing. Not the fault of bosses as much as the systems put in place. It was a real-time world and you perish in seconds or become a hero. No, I was not a stock market trader, but close. I was perhaps in deep agony. I had left my family members, my root, my friends and my culture. Those years were the most important in my life, the early twenties. I was free for the first time. Free to do whatever I wanted to do. It was a lot of pent-up sexual energy really looking for an avenue to be released. I found my moksha in creativity, especially as my office colleagues started appreciating my writing, albeit with no hint of grammar in it. Slowly strangers came to my blog and I visited theirs and we became friends. And then I started connecting with people far away from my place, across oceans. With one I became friends for life – Ian Vincent Mulder. But that’s ano…

On Mithi

I became a father on 18 November, 2014. At that moment when fatherhood embraced me, perhaps I should have been elated, jumping up and down and doing all sort of activities that new fathers do, at least, that's what most sane people do. But nothing of that sort happened to me. When I heard my baby's voice, first like an angry cat and then a mild wail wafting across the operation theatre to the waiting area where we all were pacing up and down, the first thought that hit me was how was my wife? It was a C-section and she was partially unconscious. I should not have read Internet too much, for I was reading all sorts of horror stories, of mothers not waking up or recovering etc. I was petrified as I was not hearing my wife's voice. The doctors and sisters inside the operation theater must have been very busy with their other procedures. In fact, after bringing out the baby from the womb, they were busy closing the cut, I later got to know.
The realisation of becoming a fathe…

The Sculptor's Tale

(Note to readers ... mainly Ian, who is the only one who reads this blog >> i just finished writing this in office. didn't even re-read it after writing, forget editing. Expect a leaner/fatter and better written version, if my mood permits.)
Keep your hands busy, said my father every time I used to lean against the tree to catch my breath. Keep your hands busy you idiot, keep your hands busy, don’t let your head decide for you. Keep your hands busy, he would coax me to get working. And so I would again start chiselling the chunk of rock, along the lines my father, a master sculptor, had already outlined. But I would still dream with eyes wide open. When the hammer used to fall so gently yet firm on the chisel, I used to dream of the cities and the grand mansions. I was not good in sculpting, yet I wanted to be the greatest sculptor in this world. I wanted to be honoured by my king. I wanted to be the subject for which kings wage wars against each other. I was a dreamer, I …