If there is one, he is pretty darn politically correct.

I distinctly remember that day. It was a few months after my boards were done with and I had done NOTHING of what I had planned to do during the holidays. Ofcourse it took me more than three years after that point of time to realise that plans were never and never will be my thing.
So again, where where we?
Oh yeah, THAT day.
So I was quite, quite tired of not achieving anything big in a while and you know, school had started again. The routine had begun again.
Now I really maintain that till that day, I'd never really asked for anything.
Not from my parents (Except maybe the 3rd Harry Potter book for my 13th birthday, which I got eventually.)
Not from friends (Except for one emo phase where I asked for some unwanted attention.)
And definately not from God.
Infact, each time my Mom made me pray, I daydreamed about something or the other. I wasn't an atheist, no.
Just indifferent to God's existence.

But that day was different. For the first time, lying on my bed with all the lights switched off and the sound of TV blasting from the living room, I prayed.

No, scratch that.
I didn't pray.
I, er, spoke?
I just gently cried and asked for a few things. I think I even mentioned the F-word once but yeah, corrected it right after.
Amongst these few things were : a lot of happiness, even if it were unreal, a black dress that fit me, despite my height and yes, a taste of love.
The next few months were the happiest months of my entire life and I thought I had found a nice, decent guy who I just assumed would love me.

I was wrong about both.
Just before my 12th boards, the entire thing fell apart. I realised how foolish I was, to base my affection on something so, intangible. Or rather, a facebook romance.
I drowned myself in those mindless formulae, pages of logariths, integrating numbers, constants and everything that had an answer.
I worked my ass off to take my mind off the fact that he hadn't replied to my text message.
I kept checking every two hours and nothing showed up.
I drowned myself into blogging and even deleted this blog once.

It was then that I spoke again. Apart from the fact that I was sleepless most nights with the fat physics textbook on my right and my mobile on my left, I was okay with it.
Nothing mattered.
But I asked for some strength. I asked for everything to get over soon. I asked for change.

And yeah, I got that. I didn't cry at all when they told me for sure it wasn't just my imagination. I didn't break down. And then halfway through the 12th boards, Bee came along.

He brought along some charm, some happiness, some randomness, some confidence, some opinions and a lot of text messages.
He might be a twisted person when you come to think about it, but he got change.
I don't think my Mom ever understood this, but he wasn't just another friend I was addicted to texting.
He made me happy.
And I kept telling him not to tell me he loved me because he didn't and I didn't want it to come crashing down again. He did, despite all that and even today, I can say this, Bee, you aren't too much of a person but to me you meant an amazing lot at the time.

A few days back I asked for love again.
Except this time, I was more blatant.
I said, I don't want everything perfect. I just want warmth. Some affection. Even if it was lopsided.

And I think I've got exactly that.
(He has big arms too.)
But I've never had feelings for him and right now, I have no idea about what I should do. I got what I wanted.


Anyway, moral of the story is : There is a God. And more often than not, he gives you what you want. He is just extremely( at the verge of being annoying) politically correct.

Also, he is most definately, a Grammar Nazi.
So the next time you speak to , er, it, do choose your words correctly. Like I always say about most things that I say; Been there, done that.





P.S: I really am sorry for the previous hate post. I usually hate reading rant posts, not considering them true writing and I outdid my hypocrisy by being there and doing JUST that. Sorry yaar.