Old FR.. New Writer

This is how to write FR OR Is it how to write a Romance Novel.

Kudos to MaserCaser for having Romanticized the boring Day2 FR.
Guys u need to check this post out. MCs linguistic skills and humor are amazing... read for yourself.

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Someday, I know, I'll regret having put this down in writing. I'm not even sure why I'm doing this. It was a glorious Saturday morning. Glorious, in terms of clouds forming shapes little kids love to decipher, in terms of the morning shower hitting just the right spots, in terms of the microwave heating last night's dinner to its succulent perfection. Definitely not in terms of the unforgiving Bangalore traffic.

It was already 10 AM and I hated making people wait, especially beautiful women. I vroomed in to the parking lot right next to this petite babe, in a cute blue top and tight black jeans, folded up just enough to reveal her calves. It was her. It was she. I forget the grammar. That's the effect she has on me.

Her cute nose perked up at my sight and her nose-ring raised its head in an enquiring manner - a nose-ring much like that of Sania Mirza's. But, the girl next to me was duskier than that teen heartthrob (I don't even think Sania is that hot. Damn media.). And for some reason, dusky babes just wiggle me right. She was even more beautiful than when I first met her.

It was another of those lazy days – the Wednesday of the same week. I was twiddling my fingers waiting for Ravi and his friend to arrive at the mall. A - how do I put it - flutter caught my eye. You know, the kind of flutter that is so much the signature of a clique of teenage girls. They were at the food court doing what girls do best: having their heads together over the table. I don't know what goes on in that little circle of feminine mystery, but I'd give away a month's salary to find out. Actually, double that.

The queen bee had just shot a dart of intense appraisal at me, and quickly pulled back her gaze down into their huddle, moments after which their table broke into squeals of girly laughter. Music to my ears.

Just then, Ravi slid down beside me as his friend pulled back a chair. He slapped me on my back to bring me out of my reverie and introduced his friend. I nodded my friendliest nod. And then, I don't know what it was - probably the thing that has brought mankind from its inception to its present generation.

I took my little group closer to the girls. We sat down at a table two away from theirs. We ordered and calmed down my nerves on a bowl of boiled sweet corn while Ravi told me about this air-hostess he had met at a party earlier that week. I nodded what I thought was approval to Ravi's heroics while checking out the girls and pepping myself up to do something about this.

Just as Ravi came to the punchline of his little story, I cut him off with a huge sigh of unbridled anxiety and went up to my special bunch of girls. I grabbed a chair from the adjacent table, and dragged it towards theirs. As I was sitting down, I politely asked them if I could join them. Not that I cared what they said. By this time, I was on auto-pilot. Don't ask me where I got the balls. Call of genes, baby.

The group seemed open enough. I should think they were more startled than open, now in hindsight. As I slid down in the most casual way possible, I looked in to the queen bee's eyes. They had a spark of shock and pleasure. Wow.

She turned a little bit towards me and said without missing a beat, "Ya sure!"
All this while, I had noticed a girl, a little on the fringe of the group. I knew she was gonna be a problem. So, I avoided eye contact with her. I, however, shook hands with the whole group.

I said,"You girls aren't tourists, are you?"

One of the girls perked up. "Huh, why do you ask?"

"No, it's just the way you were gawking at me. Most foreigners gawk at me."

As, there were little spurts of laughter, the bitch dismisses me by saying, "We weren't looking at you. Who are you?"

I'd have gladly gone beyond enemy lines into Waziristan than face this shit.

I recovered, somewhat.

"Oh! My bad, then."

"But, now that I'm here, what else do you like about me?" I ask my queen bee, as I lean back on my chair.

Before she could reply, I turn to the group and tell them they remind me of some girl-band. I pick out a girl in random and tell her that her face and the way she presents herself tells me that she can handle a new experience. This brings a smile to her face.

I look at another girl who is listening very keenly to me and quip that she will help anyone if she gets a chance. As she nods enthusiastically, I look at this girl whose eyes were shining with understanding. Her lips were slithering into a mischievous smile, and I implored by letting her know that she rooted for the underdog. I dearly hoped she got the point. She held me at bay by nodding to herself and looking at the girl sitting next to her: the bitch.

I quickly said that this girl steps up whenever there is a vacuum of leadership and hoped that she wouldn't. I finally turned to my girl and gave her a look of appraisal, trying to imitate the one she gave me. I told her that God uses her to accomplish things without her even knowing about it. This had the whole group laughing.
Ravi was having a ball. He was on his mobile pretending to talk, but was busily clicking away pictures of the girls and myself. He high-fived with his friend to let me know I was doing great.

I can't quite put my finger on what happened next. I do not remember the words. But, I can still feel the energy of that interaction. It was short-circuits galore. I was spewing bullshit but the girls didn't trip me up. Thank you, Cupid.

Eventually, I tell the group that it was great fun meeting them all. Then, I pointed at my girl and let the group know that I liked their friend and would like to meet up with her again and asked if it was ok for me to take their friend's number. As the bitch was about to protest, my ally, the underdog-savior gives me the go-ahead.

And then I returned to my friends with my head held high and chest pumping with pride, like a warrior, a Spartan returning from the battle of the 300. Ravi was beside himself with joy (quite frankly, I think the people around us thought he was having multiple orgasms) and his friend was wonderstruck. I was his hero. I was my own hero.

Later, when my head had stopped buzzing and my nerves had stopped fizzing and more importantly when Ravi had sobered up enough, I took leave and on the way to my bike texted my girl about how cute her nose-ring was.

I called her two days later and talked about the weather and then asked her out in the simplest and most honest way possible:

"Hey, I like you. I want to meet you again. Let me know when we can."

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Quite honestly, movie dates are not my style. But, this one just happened.

I apologized for being late.

Me: "I'm very sorry, I'm late by five."

Her: "No, by full ten minutes."

Me: "Oh, sorry madam, forgive me please. I'll get you a bunch of roses to make up for this."

She smiled. And then, the inevitable happened. The conversation ground to a halt. There was this vacuum of silence sucking all the energy. We both were uncomfortable. I knew I had to do something before things went further downhill. So, I started asking some stupid questions like how she got there.

Then, I told her the two things I liked about her: her punctuality and her sweet, refreshing attitude. I patted her shoulder saying that she scored some good points there with me and proceeded to give her a side hug. It was awkward.

It wasn't as if she brushed me off, but there was that slight discomfort. Then, we shook hands for some reason and I held her hand for a little longer than necessary. After about ten seconds, she pulled her hand out. Her hands were as smooth as nights in white satin (I know, I know, bad bad simile, cliché cliché cliché.).

Then, we went up to the cinema. There was a queue. I stand as close to her as possible with our shoulders touching. She doesn't seem to mind. The stewardess there who was checking the tickets was a hottie. She checks our tickets and says, "Enjoy your movie!"

I quip, "Hey, do not tell me what to do!", in a playful tone.

This gets my girl laughing and breaks the tension, a little. I cracked some more jokes and had her laughing and then we would high-five and for some reason my hands would linger on hers.

I remember, as we entered the movie, I made a bold move. Without me realizing it, I had grabbed her palms and locked my fingers with hers. They were a little moist like the condensation on the bathroom mirror after a warm relaxing shower. I could feel her pulse quicken. My heart was racing.

I blurted, "I hope you are comfortable with that." Such a homo thing to say, really.

She just mumbled something. I took it as a Yes.

Ravi, for all his antics, is a star. He had booked us the tickets and they were two corner seats – pure gold. As I perused the tickets and verified the seat numbers and approached the seats, I couldn't help but quip: "Wow! Nice seats, huh? Looks like we are in luck, we can cuddle in privacy." My date couldn't help but smile. I still wonder how come she didn't dump me then and there.

As we settled down in our seats, I asked her questions about her family, her friends, especially that underdog-savior friend. I told her, I liked that friend of hers the best. She smiled.

Then she asked me some questions.

"So, Raghu, are you from Bangalore? You don't seem to be pukka Bangalorean somehow."

My heart had stopped and done a little Irish jig. It was the first time her lips held my name.

I repied, "Oh, really Sonali? What makes a pukka Bangalorean?"

By now, the titles had started, and we had to talk in whispers, which only made it that much more romantic. But, then I was distracted by the movie. The first ten minutes were so hilarious that I forgot I was on a date. I can be such a moron. Thankfully, Sonali too was enjoying the movie.

All that laughter helped. There, somehow was a new dynamic between us. As if we had known each other forever. I may be imagining it now, but I think our breath rose and fell at the same time. She was still watching the movie while I stole glances at her. I looked at her vibrant, black eyes. I could drown in them, I have drowned in them. The light from the screen illuminated her face and I could see her nose had turned a little red with all the laughing. Her nose-ring was glinting in the dark, almost as if it was winking at my furtive appreciation. The Technicolor basked her smooth skin and her hair danced in the harsh gale of the air-conditioner. Her spine twitched a little with the cold.

It was pretty cold outside and the theater in all its Indian-ness had the AC going on in full swing. I held my hand out in front of her, my palm glistening with nervous sweat in the cold corner.

She gave me a puzzled look.

I came up with: "Hey! Give me your hand, I need some warmth.", and smiled sheepishly.

She placed her hand in mine.
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All Credits to MaserCaster.