The last leg

After lunch yesterday I walked up to a little office in the administration building of the business school I go to. I gave them my student roll number and collected the green registration card with my picture on it. Picking up a pen I looked at my own handwriting.My name neatly scrawled in different ink on five different dates. I paused for a moment before I gingerly put my signature for the last time and turned away. The last leg of my academic life.

I have pictures of my first day at kindergarten in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. Four years old, neatly dressed, a blue cotton bag on one shoulder, a red penguin water bottle on the other, giving an impish smile at my dad. After close to a year of a lot of fun there, they gave me a 'Diploma of kindergarten'. Needless to say, I was on a high for a whole week, my first recorded high. Ever since, school has always been joyful for me. I was one of those eager kids who hated missing school and would go almost forty minutes earlier than the first bell. The wonderful life of friends, books, grades. And a few teachers I hold close to heart.

What women want

A brief attempt at unravelling the great mystery. In honour of my friend Rishi who gave me the idea. Dedicated to all the confused men around. Just say sorry :)


She: ' Just say yes or no. No ifs or buts'
He: ' Ok... No.'
She: 'No????'
(pause)
Fine!'
He: Ok. Bye
She: Fine! Gbye and Gnite!

She stares at her fone secretly wishing she could bang it down. 'Men!'.

She wakes up, by habit trying to remember what she dreamt of. Then she remembers the argument. What a loser, she thinks. Wonder if I'll see him at the parking lot. She does. Walks away, avoiding eye contact.

'I wonder if he ever realises what he did. Hurting me like that. I bet he's regretting it right now'. She turns on her laptop trying to immerse herself in the jargon and matrices.

It's around the time he has lunch, she thinks, picking her keys and staring out the window. No sign of him. A second helping? Maybe he'd be here by then. No sign. Some fruit juice? No sign.
'What an absolute moron. Maybe he just doesn't like to say sorry.'

3 pm. No email. 4pm. No offline messages. 5 pm. Nope- no phone calls and no smses either. And then suddenly footsteps outside her door. She holds her usually heavy breath, trying to concentrate and recognize the steady sounds coming closer. A knock. On the neighbour's door. She heaves a disgruntled sigh and goes back to her wired world.

9 pm. 'Maybe I should call. Maybe that will open him up. Give him an opportunity to realize what a fool he's been. Or maybe I should just pay him a visit.' She gathers her books, her keys and her phone and then stops. She puts them all back and waving her hands, walks up two flights of stairs. She steadies her breathing, goes to the door and puts her hand on the knob and turns it.

He turns to look at her, an expression of relief crossing his face. She walks in, trying to suppress her smile and look angry. She sits down at his table waiting for him to speak.
' Ok. Here goes. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just worried about what the others would ..'
' It's okay. But I was upset too. I'm not totally devoid of emotions, you know!' she smiles. ' I just had to come and see you. I was thinking about it all day and I knew things would become alright if I came.'
' Thank you. You make me feel much lighter. Dinner tommorow?'

How nice that would be, she thought, brushing her dreams away. She turned the knob, it only went half the way. She paused, then turned it the other way. No luck. She rushed back to her room, picked her stuff and walked to her car. ' Well, he's getting more time. He better come around by tommorrow.'

Next morning she meets him at the parking lot.

She: 'Left early yesterday?'
He: ' Yes, Around 8'
She: ' I came to your office. Around 9'
He: ' Oh. What for?'
She ' What do you think?'
He: ' It's ok. Your apologies are accepted.'

She: 'Whaaaattttt?????'