Wednesday, November 16, 2016

The rise and fall of a laddu

Women. An enigma wrapped in a riddle. Or is it the other way? Before you start accusing me of becoming a poet, I didn't say it. I am paraphrasing a friend. Why is he coming out with such revelations? It started with an innocent SMS which had far deeper connotations.

Are you there?

That is how it started. My friend's heart skipped a beat when this message arrived out of nowhere from a friend. What was weirder was the sender of the message, a member of fairer sex, had drifted into his thoughts a few days before. They were talking to each other almost every day and then suddenly everything had gone cold. So the sudden message caught him off guard.

I saw someone who reminded me of you.

Another message followed immediately. This time, my friend reminisced into every minute detail of her. He could envisage her smile and all those little things that made him crazy about her. He was excited because this seems to be the beginning of a new beginning.

Remembered laddu?

He replied, no longer being able to contain himself. She had always called him a laddu. He never asked her why. He has never been called a food item by anyone. So when she first called her laddu, he quickly succumbed and let his imaginations run wild.

Yes yes. He is short and round like you. Laddu...

My friend concluded the story. Women! They raise you all the way up and drop you like a hot potato. In this case, like a hot laddu.


Photo Courtesy: Lyrical Lemongrass

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