By some coincidence, I got this article lying somewhere in my old mails of 2004. Yeah! I like to keep things saved as a history. I have not written this, but some author has narrated this in a very nice way. After reading this all I could feel is "Love is in the Air". You made my day Dude
> It was a lovely December morning in the hottest city in the world. All
> right, so that was a little unfair. Chennai is not the hottest city in the
> world. But it certainly is the city with the most uncomfortable weather
> among the cities that I have lived in. And I've been around. But I
> digress.
>
> I was in the company bus on my way to work, as usual trying to catch up
> with my sleep. On this particular day, a girl got on the bus, came to my
> seat and sat down. "Good Morning," she said. I looked back at her through
> half closed eyes, replied "Good Night," and then proceeded to return to my
> half hour nap before the bus reached the office. Unfortunately, I was
> woken up by a punch in the arm.
>
> "Wake up, bozo!" She was looking at me with a big smile on her face. "I'm
> not sitting next to you to listen to you snore."
>
> Half-heartedly, I opened my eyes and turned to her. "What's up?" I asked.
>
>
> Preeti Mehra was tall, good-looking and slightly tomboyish. She was also
> my best buddy. "Come on," she said. "Don't look so disappointed. You'd
> rather sleep than talk to me?"
>
> "I talk to you everyday, Preeti."
>
> "You also sleep everyday."
>
> "It's not enough."
>
> "So you've had enough of talking to me, eh?"
>
> You can't argue with a statement like that, so I had to give up. I grinned
> and said, "OK, sweetheart. What's on your mind?"
>
> "I wanted to tell you what happened yesterday. Can you guess?"
>
> "Anurag called you last night."
>
> "How did you know?" She was stunned.
>
> "Oh, he asked me for your number yesterday."
>
> "And you gave it to him?"
>
> "What else could I do? And stop complaining. You've been drooling over him
> for weeks now. He must have thought he had a chance."
>
> Preeti was the kind of girl who would openly ogle at every other guy she
> saw. And yet, she would not respond to any advances of a romantic nature.
> She'd happily join a group of boys to go to a cricket match, but if asked
> out to a movie, dinner, or even coffee, she'd never say yes. She defined
> 'Hard-To-Get'.
>
> "You like putting me in these situations, don't you?" she said.
>
> "No. That's not true. I love putting you in these situations!"
>
> That invited another punch in the arm.
>
> I had known Preeti for a year. We'd tell each other about our joys and our
> sorrows, our victories and our defeats. I'd tell her about all my crushes
> and she'd scold me for being silly. She'd drag me to classical music
> concerts and I'd add them to the list of things she 'owed me' for.
>
> And though I never let it show, I must say that she punched pretty hard.
>
>
> ~*~
> It was 12:00 am and my phone was ringing. "Hello," I said, as I picked it
> up.
>
> "Happy Birthday!" It was she.
>
> "You're supposed to throw me a surprise party, sweetheart. Not just call
> to say Happy Birthday."
>
> "Well then open your door, dumbo!"
>
> So I did and found her, cell-phone in hand, at my doorstep -- with what
> seemed like half the population of my company. My roommates were supposed
> to be working late that night. Now I knew why.
>
> I blew a lot of candles (seemed like much more than 25), cut my cake, got
> kicked in the behind, and got painted with the cake's icing. If Preeti had
> had her way, she'd probably have preferred to use a paintbrush and a can
> of paint. But I bribed her with a copy of the book "Lord of the Rings".
> She'd borrowed it from me three times already. I thought it was about time
> I gave her a copy for herself.
>
> We chatted for an hour after everyone had gone. "I think it's time I
> left," she said finally, trying to stifle a yawn. I nodded. I dropped her
> home in my roommate's car. As she was getting out of the car, I stopped
> her.
>
> "Hey, Preeti."
>
> "What?"
>
> "Thanks."
>
> "Hey, don't get senti on me now!" she smiled. "Are you trying to worm out
> of that gift you promised me?"
>
> "You know, it's interesting how I'm getting you a gift on my birthday."
>
> "That's just because you're stupid," she grinned. "And you better get me
> that book, or I won't return your copy."
>
> "Hey, that copy was a gift to me from my dear friend Preeti Mehra. I can't
> let you keep that."
>
> She wasn't falling for that. "Your dear friend? And what about me? Am I
> not dear to you?"
>
> "Very smart. That won't work with me. I'm not one of your Love Crazy
> suitors. Why do you need the book anyway? You've read it umpteen times
> already."
>
> "That is besides the point. You are getting me the book. We both know
> that." She smiled that wide confident smile of hers. "Good night." And she
> got out of the car.
>
> I sat there for some time, just thinking. Our conversations were always
> like this - a little joking, a little teasing and a lot of demanding. But
> somehow, I felt that something had changed since the moment she had turned
> up at my door that night. I was still in my reverie when a paper ball
> landed on the windshield. I craned my neck out of the window and looked
> up. She was standing in her balcony.
>
> "What are you still doing there?" she whispered loudly.
>
> "Waiting for you to start a paper-ball fight," I whispered back.
>
> "We can do that tomorrow. Go home now. It's way past your bedtime!"
>
> "Ok, mommy," I grinned back. "I'm going home now!"
>
>
> ~*~
> I'm an extravagant gift-giver, and it is definitely going to be my
> downfall some day. I made her wait for it, but finally bought her the
> book. That, and half-a-dozen other omnibus collections of various authors,
> including a copy each of `The Complete Works of Shakespeare' and `The
> Complete Short Stories of Charles Dickens'. All I got for it was an "I
> told you so."
>
> I started spending a lot of time at her place after that. Mostly because I
> wanted to read all those books, and she wouldn't lend them to me.
>
> "I'm not as stupid as you, ape-man. I'm not falling into the same trap I
> laid for you. Plus, you dog-ear your books. You're not doing that to these
> masterpieces. So if you want to read them, you read them here. And if you
> want to mark your place, use a bookmark."
>
> So that's what I did. She'd even make me wash my hands before I touched
> the books. It was as if they were sacred.
>
> "Need I remind you that it was me that bought you the books in the first
> place? For my birthday!"
>
> "So? They're mine now."
>
> "Well, then. I've been meaning to ask you this for a long time. Where
> exactly is my birthday gift?"
>
> "It was in your tummy at one point of time. It's probably been washed into
> the sea by now."
>
> "Huh?"
>
> "Remember the cake I baked you on your birthday?"
>
> "You what? You can't bake cakes!" That was a mistake. She looked hurt.
> "You baked me a cake?" She didn't say a word. She just shrugged.
>
> I was stunned. "But you never told me."
>
> "You didn't ask." That was typical of her.
>
> "It was fantastic! And you wasted most of the icing on me!"
>
> "The cake was for you, dumbo."
>
> "How long did it take you to make the whole thing?" It had been a
> two-layered vanilla-chocolate cake with three flavors of very creamy
> icing. She had done all that!
>
> "Well, the chocolate cake took an hour and fifteen minutes, and so did the
> vanilla. Then cutting them up and putting them together took another 15
> minutes. Each flavor of icing took 20 minutes for preparation, and then
> putting it on the cake took another half hour. Cleaning up the mess took
> an hour."
>
> She seldom claimed the credit for anything, but once she started bragging,
> there was no stopping her. However, I wasn't thinking about that right
> then.
>
> "You spent over five hours on that cake?"
>
> "A little over four hours preparing it, and an hour cleaning up. Yes."
>
> I was speechless. I didn't know how to react. She hated cooking.
>
> "I forgot to mention," she continued, "the hours I spent the week before
> that, practicing. Even the birds wouldn't touch the first three cakes!"
>
> I couldn't help but ask. "Why?"
>
> "Because the first one got burnt, the second one was only half cooked, and
> in the third one, I forgot to add sugar."
>
> It was just like her, to try to divert the conversation. "I mean why did
> you spend so much time on baking me a cake?"
>
> She looked at me like I'd asked her why the sun rises in the east. "For
> your birthday, stupid. Of course, I also wanted to beat every gift you've
> ever got me. Try beating this one." She was grinning like she'd won the
> world championship.
>
> As far as I was concerned, she had. I'd never spent a week making her
> anything. I'd never even spent an hour making her anything. Getting her a
> gift normally involved me taking her to the store, letting her choose and
> use my credit card. Suddenly, I felt cheap. "Thanks," was the only thing I
> could say. "Thanks a lot."
>
> "Hey. Are you getting senti on me again?"
>
> I was.
>
>
> ~*~
> I was still mulling over my feelings for Preeti the next day at work when
> my boss asked to speak to me.
>
> I went over to his cabin and he started with the usual greetings, asking
> how work was going and whether I was comfortable. He then told me that the
> company wanted to send me to New York for a couple of years. Normally,
> this wouldn't have made much of a difference to me. I could work anywhere
> and didn't have too much love for visiting places foreign. But right then,
> the first thought that came to me was that I'd be away from Preeti for two
> whole years. Twenty-four hours before, I'd have been disappointed to lose
> her company. But right then, I was devastated. That was when I knew I was
> in love with her. I'd had crushes before. Lots of them. But this was
> different.
>
> "Do you have any problem in going?" my boss asked, since I hadn't
> responded.
>
> "Not really," I replied. What else could I say? That I was in love, and
> couldn't bear the separation?
>
> "When do I have to leave?"
>
> I had a month.
>
>
> ~*~
> "Wow! New York! Great! I've heard it's a fantastic city! Did you know it
> snows there in winter?" Preeti was obviously very excited about my going.
> She didn't seem to share my disappointment on what I now saw as
> 'separation'.
>
> I had not decided then if I was going to tell her how I felt. We'd known
> each other for a little over a year, and we were very close, but beyond
> some mild flirting, the relationship had never got even close to romantic.
> That was, of course, until I found out she had spent a week baking me a
> cake. It's funny how small things seem to make such a big difference.
>
> "What happened?" she asked. "You don't seem very happy."
>
> "Oh," I replied, "it's just that it's so sudden, that's all. And you know
> I was never all that interested in going to America."
>
> "What an idiot. Go see the place. I've heard the women there are amazingly
> beautiful." She had a sly smile on her face. I wanted to tell her I didn't
> care if I laid my eyes on another woman again, if she wasn't with me. But
> I didn't.
>
> I realized that I only had another month with her. She'd rejected every
> guy who'd asked her out ever since I'd known her. I didn't want the same
> to happen to me, and I didn't want to make it awkward between us. I didn't
> want to risk that month. I wanted it to be the best time I had ever spent
> with her. After I came back from the US, I might not even get to meet her
> again. Two years was a long time.
>
> We ate out almost every night. We visited some of the best restaurants in
> the city. She also helped me shop for warm clothes, formalwear, shoes,
> toothpaste and a million things I'd never have thought of on my own.
>
> "You need to buy a nail-cutter." My roommates and I shared one.
>
> "I've prepared a list of must-have medicines that you should carry."
>
> "Your iron won't work in the US. No point buying one here as you need one
> that works at a hundred and ten volts and has flat pins. You can buy one
> at a K-Mart or Wal-Mart as soon as you get there."
>
> "You need at least two pairs of formal shoes and at least ten pairs of
> dark socks. The East Coast has a formal dress code. And you won't do your
> laundry more than once a week or two."
>
> "How many ties do you have? And which trousers do your blazers go with?"
>
> "Better get a haircut before you leave from here. Knowing you, you'll
> postpone the first haircut for too long."
>
> She'd call me up at one in the morning to tell me to add 'one more item'
> to my list.
>
> And with every passing day, I was falling more deeply in love with her.
>
> The month swept by quickly. The day I was supposed to leave, I asked her
> to come with me to the airport. "Of course, dumbo. You think I'd let you
> go just like that, or what?"
>
> After packing my bags for me and checking the lists for the hundredth
> time, she finally pronounced me "Good to go."
>
> We reached the airport four hours early to beat the rush, because it was
> an international flight. She got a visitor's pass to sit in the waiting
> area while I went ahead and checked-in my bags. Preeti had got a spring
> balance from somewhere and so we knew my bags were well within the weight
> limit. I finished the formalities and came to sit with her. We had only a
> few hours before I had to go for my security-check. We decided to get
> something to eat at the food court. And all the time, the one thing that
> was going through my head was that, after this, I wouldn't see her for at
> least another two years.
>
> "Hey, Champ. Why so glum?" She saved 'Champ' for special days. Normally,
> it was just 'dumbo', 'bozo', 'ape-man', 'matchstick man', 'weirdo', or if
> she was very irritated with me, 'nutcase'.
>
> "I don't want to go," I said.
>
> "I don't want you to go either."
>
> "No, you don't understand." I couldn't hold it in any longer. "I can't
> stand the thought of living without you by my side."
>
> She stared at me. There was a strange look in her eyes. I couldn't read
> it.
>
> "I am madly in love with you, Preeti."
>
> At this, a sound escaped her lips that sounded like a cross between a sob
> and a laugh. "Well, dumbo, you've picked an absolutely fabulous time to
> tell me about it!"
>
> A tear escaped her eyes. It was all I could do to stop myself from wiping
> it off her cheeks.
>
> "How long have you felt this way?" She seemed amused, though she was
> definitely crying. I didn't know what to make of it.
>
> "From the day I found out you had baked me a cake."
>
> She laughed. "That's all it took? Well, bozo, I guess a way to a man's
> heart is certainly through his stomach! Hold it. A month? You waited a
> month? You were the one who kept saying that if you really liked a girl
> you wouldn't waste a day in telling her!" She was smiling widely now. It
> looked funny, with her eyes all wet.
>
> "Well, I was confused. How did I know how you'd react? In fact, I still
> don't understand your reaction. I thought it would change things between
> us. You've rejected every guy who ever proposed to you!"
>
> "That's because I'm in love with you, you overgrown idiot!"
>
> "What?" Somehow, I'd never expected her to say that. She was in love with
> me? "How long have you been in love with me?"
>
> "Ever since the day you offered to carry my suitcase for me."
>
> "But that was the first day I met you!"
>
> "I guess I was always a sucker for chivalry."
>
> "All this time you've been in love with me and you never said anything!
> Then you go and complain that I waited a month!"
>
> "You guys are so bad at reading a girl's mind."
>
> "You women are so good at keeping your thoughts a secret! Even Einstein
> couldn't figure you out."
>
> "Einstein was a nerd. Casanova, on the other hand, understood us very
> well."
>
> "I love you."
>
> "I know."
>
> That moment, my dear friends, was magic. I looked into her eyes and took
> her hands in mine. Physical contact for us had been limited, until then,
> to a punch in the arm, a slap on the back of the head, or giving each
> other a 'high five'.
>
> "You realize, don't you," she said, "that this is our first date?" Leave
> it to her to notice the little things.
>
> "I really don't want to go." I'd always maintained that love is a
> bucketful of emotions. I wasn't exactly delighted to be proved right.
>
> "Don't worry. I'm coming there in a couple of months."
>
> "How? On a dependent visa?"
>
> She laughed. "For that, I'll have to wait, won't I? I've got a project in
> New Jersey."
>
> I couldn't believe my ears. "What? When did that happen? You never even
> told me!"
>
> "Well, I wasn't sure you'd propose before you left. And I couldn't exactly
> sacrifice you to those New York women, could I? I had to watch out for
> myself. So I went on a project-hunting spree. There is an opportunity
> coming up for a project in about two months. Someone is coming back to
> India, so I'll be taking his place. They want me there for a little less
> than two years." She was beaming. "I realized I had struck gold!"
>
> "And if I'd not told you how I felt? When were you planning on telling me
> about it?"
>
> "Around a month before I reached there. I had to make it look natural. Or
> you'd think I was desperate."
>
> "Well, you are desperate!" This was incredible. All I'd done in the past
> month had been to mope around, listen to sad songs and write her letters
> that I never intended her to read. "You've been scheming all this while!
> How come you didn't lay a trap for me a year ago?"
>
> "I tried giving you hints, dumbo, but you just wouldn't pay attention!"
> She was laughing. "You're the only guy I ever spent any time with. Wasn't
> that a big enough hint?"
>
> That was true. She would happily join a group of boys to go to a cricket
> match, but I now realized, only if I was one of them.
>
> "What if I had rejected you?" I was extremely flattered that she'd been
> crazy about me for a year. My ego was swelling.
>
> "You must be kidding!" she was clearly amused. "I get proposed to every
> few days. You are the one who's been rejected more times in the last year
> than I can count on two pairs of hands!"
>
> She really knew how to burst my bubble.
>
> "Hey," she said softly, "don't look so dejected. I said 'Yes', didn't I?"
>
> I grinned. "Yes, you did. And you've made me a very happy man. But you
> know what would make me even happier?"
>
> "What?"
>
> "If you learn to cook as good as you bake cakes."
>
> So she punched me in the arm again.
