I moonlighted as the radio jockey that speaks in an erotic nasal voice after 11 pm and solves love problems. i used to enjoy doing that under an alias name of “ Love Guru Raj”
My basic advice to all the callers was to lower their expectations in love. The lesser the expectations the better love gets.
During the day i was a struggling writer trying to publish my first novel and in the process writing episodes for a daily soap to earn my bread and butter.
That day while walking back from my night job i found a young teenager at a place he should have never been. Completely drunk and wasted on a street struggling to get on his feet and walk. He seemed heartbroken and terribly depressed. His eyes were red and it seemed he had not slept since ages. Saying that he was rolling drunk was an understatement .My heart melted and i took him home.
The first thing he did next morning was vomit. He kept struggling in and out of my washroom for four hours before he felt better. As he sat down on the sofa i started interrogating him
“What’s your Name ?” I asked
“ Kunal “ He replied
“How Old are You ?” I asked sternly
“17” he replied
“Do you think it’s legal to get drunk and roam around on streets of Mumbai at 17?” I demanded to know
He was reduced to tears. He cried like a small child. I understood what had happened
Countless romances and dejections later
Two decades after my teens were over.
I had become pretty experienced in this field.
Let me put it this way
I realized very early in my life that i had a very innocent face
And realized that i could take advantage of it to fool innocent girls
I spoke with flair and confidence and i also had the gift of the gab
But then i also realized very early in my life that what i was doing was nothing great or exceptional
I realized that winning the trust of an innocent girl is very easy and breaking it is even easier
But this conquest and victory is worthless when you see the innocent girl shed tears
It is that moment that makes you realize that you have broken something very valuable.
I asked him to tell me if i could help him with something. May be i was assuming it to be a girl, maybe it was something more dramatic.
But simple guys like Kunal have simple problems. Yes it was a girl. Her name was Anjali.
“She works at Crossword.” Kunal said tentatively
“ I am a bookworm and hence i frequent that place very often in search of new books”
“Her smile was enticing; her eyes had a unique unusual sparkle”
“ I started frequenting that place more often , but now it was just to see her, feel her presence, smell her fragrance and talk to her” “ We became good friends, exchanged numbers and started chatting on whatsapp and facebook” Kunal Continued
“But then one day she told me something unusual. She asked me if i would like to check out some adult books in the store room upstairs.
I accompanied her. She bolted the door and had a naughty smile on her face.”
“She had planned everything. The Storeroom had no adult books. The adult stuff was in her mind and what we did was extremely insane “ Kunal concluded
I was taken aback. I belong to an older generation and a girl making such moves was not something we had seen in our times .I was a little nervous to ask this question but i did anyway
“Did you guys go all the way?”
“No” He replied angrily “I mean we locked the door and then we Kissed” He replied
“Not once, not twice but Sixteen times “he said
“You counted “ I asked
“Yes “he replied
“I maintained a diary and i wrote down each and every detail, i wanted to show her after marriage” he sobbed
“Had you discussed marriage and kids?” I Inquired
He suddenly burst into tears.
As he regained his composure, he walked towards the window.
“She just suddenly threw me out of her life one day” “She said that it was just a casual fling and there were no emotions associated with it” He said
Well back in our days we had brats. Boys did this usually. The Biggest brat i had seen was “Ranjeet” in the movies. He did this in every other movie. He impregnated the girl and then wiped his lips and rubbed his chest and then ironically said” Once in a blue Moon Kabhi Kabhi”. His dialogues never made sense but his actions did.
But this had happened with an innocent guy this time.
I eventually said. I know how you can win her back. At that moment even i was not sure what i was going to do. It was like a bowler that wanted a wicket badly but did not know where to pitch the ball. But i did say something sensible
“Ignore her for a couple of days act as if nothing has happened. Do not communicate with her by any means at all. No phone calls, No whatsapp messages, nothing.”
“On the third day walk into her bookstore and completely ignore her.” “Walk past her and do not make eye contact”. I instructed him
I was also present in the bookstore to make sure Kunal was following my instructions. I had dressed him up in style. Gelled his hair, opened a few buttons of his shirt, and had replaced his heavy school bag with a stylish bag that contained just one book.
He did what i had instructed him to do. Kept browsing through books and when he needed help he waved out to another girl and she showed him the book the wanted.
He walked out of the bookstore. i could not make much from her reaction. It seemed anger. The Fact that he had chosen to ignore her had made her angry… He walked out with tremendous confidence. I could see the sprint in his stride and his lopsided smile looked terrific
We were watching a movie well past midnight and his phone beeped. It had an angry smiley.
The Angry smiley made him smile sheepishly. He leaped like a school boy who had passed in all subjects. I instructed him not to reply and just completely ignore her message
After a few days, she confronted him.
She was curious to know the reason for his behavior.
He was more polished than before and every word he spoke impressed her
But those words were mine. I was scripting this love story and Kunal was just playing the character written by me.
He was playing a flamboyant boy, charming, intelligent and witty.
The Only thing i was scared about was when he would be caught off guard.
He proposed her
She accepted to go on a date with him. But she was not sure yet.
I was not sure if i was doing the right thing. The only thing i had previously cared about was seeing Kunal happy but now i was also worried about Anjali. She was a also a naive little teenager and i somehow felt i was manipulating her into loving a character i had created and not a real Kunal
One date led to many more dates. I kept on pressurizing kunal to stop taking my guidance for everything and show her his real self now.. But he was extremely low on self confidence and relied completely on me. The Modus Operandi was I had to be present with him on the phone on every date. I heard their conversations and then sent him voice messages on whatsapp. He hid a small earplug behind his ear and spoke all that i told him to. Sometimes he never understood or remembered what he had spoken about.
My fears were rational. The Eventful day had arrived. She caught him unaware. She had smelt something fishy since a long time. His replies were sometime not in sync with the topic.
She heard all the voice notes on his phone. She realized how she was being manipulated
She just walked off without saying anything to him.
No amount of explanations could win her back..
One Year Passed By. I lost touch with Kunal. But one day i bumped into him again and he was still hopelessly in love with Anjali. He had been stalking her all along but he did not have the courage to speak to her.
It was time to try and rectify things and hence i decided to make a grand entry into Anjali’s life as another character.
This character was called Gopal. I was playing this character.
I wanted to become her friend and confidante and know what she thought about Kunal. I wanted to tap her feelings
She had now started working as an actress at a well known theatre group and i joined them as a scriptwriter. My Happy go lucky, full of life, cheekily cheery character became very close friends with Anjali in no time. She was a very positive and bold girl. i had realized that she was in many ways just like me, a boundless spirit that could not be restricted or confined.
I created a character called Heer and i pushed Anjali into playing that character on stage.
Every day we discussed Heer and her feelings and i wrote the script in such a way that Anjali explores her feelings for Kunal. The Male character i had written was extremely similar to Kunal.I also named it as Kunal. We were discussing an act, however under the pretext of discussing a fictitious kunal, i was also discussing a real kunal.
When we were casting we took a lot of auditions. While i searched for Kunal, i made the director reject them all. Then finally i pretended to have found kunal working in a bank as an intern.
I manipulated things in such a way that everyone was convinced that this character could only be played by Kunal.
It was a struggle to make him act. Even though the character was so close to his personality, Kunal struggled to say his lines
They finally came face to face again. It was an epic moment. She blushed and he tried to hide his nervousness. They said sorry to each other and became friends again
They got along really well and their laughter echoed in the theatre whenever they rehearsed
Until the time came when Kunal professed his feelings again
This revelation from him came just before the final performance.
I was extremely confident about the entire effort i had put in making them fall in love, but she rejected him again.
This time more patiently but she rejected him.
Finally on stage
He was in character when he read this poetry to her. All though written by me, the emotions he showcased were real. He had indeed missed her all along But what i admired the most was his confidence. He was performing brilliantly and his confidence was impeccable
“ The creator himself, proudly exults, at the form of her eyes,
Tongue-tied, lines of verse, in vain, to paint her form, it tries,
The bounteous lips, they lend, a rosy hue to Spring,
Led astray, those who seek, heavenly streams, they bring,
On her ravishing form, meanders, flowing robes, her attire,
Songs of wandering minstrels, her stately build, inspires,
Such beauty, need not on, ministrations it thrive,
Not possibly from mortal thoughts, it may soul derive,
Long ago, through these lanes, I had for a moment, passed,
Held in awe, her enticing frame, vainglorious, as I passed,
Down these memory lanes, enamored, enticed, I traverse,
Enwraps my being, the very wind, she breathed in wine and verse,
Hangs vaporous, the elegance, over the ground once she tread,
Softly plays in the air, her eloquence, a melody she impressed,”
Anjali played Heer to perfection. The Story of Unrequited Love touched the hearts of the people who saw it. I had created a modern tale based on popular folk tales of unrequited love
The play had a sad ending but the real ending of this story also became a sad one
After the show I entered the scene again and introduced my real self to Anjali. I told her the entire story from my perspective. i explained to her that Kunal was a genuine guy and his love was pure and no one could love Anjali with the same amount of Madness.
But she was adamant “.Love cannot be taught, forced or planned. It is a natural phenomenon and it takes its own course” “Why do i need to think seriously about a guy, only because i kissed him “ “It’s my choice and i have the right to cure my curiosity”” Who gives you the right to enforce his love into my life, or write your script around us” “ Please pay with your characters and their emotions, we are human beings , please leave us alone “ She said dramatically
The Woman of India had come of age; she could have a casual fling and move on. She was not bound by the so called piousness and virtue. She was strong to take her own decision and live her life to the fullest with the same amount of freedom a guy has
I understood that Love, respect, care and emotions cannot be forced on to someone. if it does not come naturally , there is no point in pursuing them.
I wish we stopped arranging marriages and engaging two people to meet that look seemingly made for each other to us.
© Jitendra Kotai