As a 25-year-old, being single for quite some time now, wholly taken by the instant hook-up culture and with the dating concept miserably confusing me, I often question the definition of love.
I would repeatedly ask my heart for an answer but it never replied with conviction, and my doubts about love lasted.
Last crisp night, I was chilling out with my mad buddies and with freshly brewed beer relaxing our minds at a rate of 5 mugs per hour, we were inclined to lose our consciousness. So, one of the most-freaked out among us, targeted me:
The arguments that happened later lie in ‘censored’ category. But this drunken introspection took a toll on me and made me question myself:
After a few hours (the recovery time to confirm that I was eligible to go home alone), I bid goodbye to my bitches and decided to take a small walk to reach the nearby bus-stand. The line, “Tu Tinder pe jaa aur ash maar, pyaar ki m**“ was still playing in my head.
I had mildly heard of Tinder and surprisingly my 3G was working fine. I stumbled upon its most unadulterated definition by Wikipedia:
Sound like a fairytale!
For me, the logo, yes the ‘flame’ logo was inkling enough to prove that this app was designed to satisfy the flaming sexual tension among the youth. It was all about finding the right person to bed with by swiping the filtered photo hiding their real appearance.
I disabled my 3G as I reached the nearby bus-stand and stood at an empty corner and instantly, my eyes were hijacked by a girl, possibly in her mid-20s. Her long hair made its way to her knees, her sincere eyes were reading, ‘Behind The Beautiful Forevers’ by Katherine Boo. As she looked right, away from me, trying to guess the bus approaching, her leight-complexioned, soft face bewitched me.
Fortunately, I realized we were waiting for the same bus. She kept the novel back in her wacky bag and got mixed with the crowd getting into the bus. I was a few steps away from her. She sat and the seat next to her’s was still empty, I stopped for a moment and asked myself again:
“Should I talk to her?”
Within a fraction of a second, someone grabbed that seat. I lost the chance. Again.
I sat five seats away from her and started thinking tenderly about Tinder. With unalike opinions, it seemed that my heart and mind were at war.
Just imagine practicing the most satiated form of love and still feeling worthless inside?
My bus stopped and I saw her getting out, I hurriedly got up, the bus was speeding up, I pushed hard through the crowd and reached the door. The driver accelerated the bus further.
I requested him to stop but he didn’t, I shouted with all my anger:
“Bhaiya, bus rooko!”
Out of embarrassment, he stopped.
I got out, smiling at the driver and breathlessly ran towards her. I noticed her walking towards the juice corner and after a while, I stood next to her and said: