"...do minit me pata leta!"

Well, what to say of this friend, he is a real entertainer of sorts. Just that he is a bit less matured, is what I think, but a lot more and lot else, is what others think, but here is ramblings about a nice friend of mine.

Pale yellow tees. And dark brown flashing jeans. Really. This is my friend.

He is from state of sweets, he IS sweet, and, oh, by the way, he is much sweeter to the weaker sex. "Tum iss baat ki chinta mat karo, main hun na, main sab kuch sambhal lunga. Tum bas concentrate karo." Well, still I understand him. Or at least try to.

He talks. A lot. Only that he does so about himself mostly. About his aspirations. About his dreams. About his past achieeeeeeevements. About how fine his chest and biceps were once upon a time. About how good is(or was, I don't know, really) his kick boxing. About how his state boasts of finer tea. About how people here are less interested in tastes and aesthetics than the land of Hoogly. About how good are his manners when communicating with ladies. About the long list of girlfriends, he had. Or, leave it anyways.

He studies. When he does, he puts in long hours. Does work hard. He chats too. Puts in longer hours. Does work real hard. Makes nice friends, nicer girl friends. Who wish him "Hi". Rest is his statements, his questions, and their replies- "Yes," "Sure," "I knew it." "You are nice." "I don't know." "I am engaged." "I too, but.." "Don't cry, honey.." "I will miss you" "You'd do my assignment, na?" "You are very sweet.." And so on.

By the way, did every paragraph end with him chasing after girls?

No, No. Really, he is much more to that. Muucch More.

Okay, he is interested in writing. Love poems. Love stories. He is interested in music. Romantic songs, only. He paints sometime too. Makes Romantic Cards, that is. That day he saw someone walking on the road. A girl. "Isko pataun? Achi hogi mere liye." Then moments later, "Ye thik rahegi na mere liye?" "Saath me mummy hai to kya hua, mujhe mummy ko thode hi patana hai!" In the college bus. "Yaar, tu peeche baith ja. Dekh nahi raha yeh kitni sundar hai?" In the college. "Kaun si section ki hai? Shayad Tina hai uska naam.. ya.. Bahut cute hai na?" After college, in the bus again. I sit separately. Don't know much besides hearing once, "Tu sara kharab kar diya. Woh mujhe dekh ke smie kar di thi. Main use do minute me pata leta."

He has good friends also. Good supporting friends. In case people run after him to thrash him. Friends in us. He has a (chat)friend up faaaar away in... what was it? Yes, Poland. Poland? Really? And its a She, not He. Anybody's guess. And he loves her madly. Well, presuming that she reciprocrates, which she really does not. And he sends her cards. Love cards. Love letters. And on and on. She sends him.. nothing. Till know, we haven't heard of anything substantial, yet. Every morning, he says, my heart only beats for her(wohi Poland waali bhutni) and I will go to Poland and marry her and take her to India(!) and live happily ever after. Then comes day, we wait for the bus. "Woh to fix hai, but yahan main akela pad jata hun, chalo aaj isko patate hain!"

Well, I say he is a kid, after all. Lets hope my friend gets a real girl's love.

And, Well, Bengalis are sweet.

Signing off as a professor does. "Baccho? Class ke end me teacher ko thank you kaise bolte hain?"

Take a deep breath. Say Thank God slowly. Release your breath simultaneously.

So, "Thaaannnk Goooood!"

(P.S. Bengalis are really sweet.)

(..And, yeah, also P.S. Sorry yaar. tere baare me likhne ko dil kiya. bura mat maan dude.)