I am Crushed-Yiy, yiy, yiy!

I have a big, fat, humungous, whopping, dinosaur-ic crush! I needed to supply so many adjectives above to emphasize on the urgency of the situation because otherwise small, tiny, miniscule, trivial, miniature crushes are an everyday ritual with me. Yes people, in my last post I mentioned why we need a husband husband happy-check and here please let me not leave the gyan incomplete and enlighten you also on the necessity of needing a “crush” to keep you from being crushed when ghar ke murgi becomes daal baraabar whatever the connotations there you may assume.

Most of the romantic flicks tell you to close your eyes and you’d see the image of that special someone whom you truly love. Now a word of warning-these stunts are performed by experts and can be dangerous, if tried at home without professional guidance and lead to misguided inferences. Why I say so?

For when I tried doing the same...I mean I closed my eyes and waited for a face...Waaaaaaaaaaiting....Aaaaaaaaaaand....

Voila!

Wtf!

There was a bloody party!

Bah!

Dumb love stories?

Naah!

Dumb reality!

I tell you it’s bloody too much to expect in kalyug for eyes to drop when you view a tempting dish cross your path. Even for a “Bharatiye, Pativrata, abla, sarv gun sampan” naari like me. Please don’t ask me to translate that...there’s something called drama for heaven’s sake. And the object of my affection is a geek god cum Greek god at my gym. Mmmmm! I have seen him grow. Please don’t get me wrong my dear one-track minded friends. I mean, I was there when this boy came! Uff, I think I am still not ‘raising’ the right picture, am I?

Okay, cut to a few months back...

Me doing my regular thingy in the gym nopes, that does not mean “not exercising” so wipe off that grin and the door opens...

In comes with a hawa ka jhooka, as if in a slow motion Yashraj movie- A sweet, introvert looking kinda gawky twenty something of a boy!

A bottle water bottle for Christ’s sake in one hand and a napkin offo, a regular male napkin in another! About 5 feet 9 or 10 inches that’s his height dodos....please note the usage of “feet” there  and milk white skin. As against the black as tar counterparts already in the gym, he was literally a bright ray of sunshine. He had spectacles on his cute countenance and so dismissed by me based on face value as another wanna-be gym-goer. He also had a sombre, no faltu-baat demeanour to boot!

Okay and cut to now...

Me doing my regular thingy in the gym-yup, that means ogling at him every once in a while through the many mirrors, otherwise persistently drooling dil he dil mein and sighing. And he’d be pumping weights ooh...couldn’t I have been that dumbbell curled in his wrist?  His facial muscles stretched to perfection on his taut cheek bones. His little jersey clings to his well chiselled frame, sweat pours like drops of manna off his forehead, muscles ripple through his arms and everywhere else. His walk is suddenly super sexy and confident, skin glowing to a more manly white whatever that is supposed to mean And those spectacles are not adorning his face while he works out.

Aaaah! The pain in the heart taking me straight to my favourite mode-‘The What-If mode’! What-if he was older or better still I were younger? What if he was floored by me too silently in heart of heart or what if I was not married?

What if someday a wall in the gym falls and he comes just in the nick of time to save me by taking the bricks on his solid shoulders and I get up to say “Thank you! You saved my life.” And he says, “How could I not? Your life is not yours alone from now on!” and we get lost in each other’s eyes...

You think THIS thought is ridiculous?

Well hear this then. Some years ago, I remember watching Kuch Kuch Hota Hain and thinking of some Prince Charming coming to drag me off my shaadi ka mandap and putting me on a white horse and taking me away to live happily ever after. Never mind if I had no boyfriend or even a crush in consideration who would show any possibilities of such insanity and never mind either that the idea of getting on that white horse is matter of a completely hypothetical situation and never mind to the heights that my Prince Charming that is my dearly beloved was already waiting at the altar.

Alright shut up dream sequences-back to reality*bursting all my thought bubbles...boo hoo*

So do you get the picture now of how this boy next door looks-the forbidden apple, that could very well turn me into Eve! His transformation leaves me breathless. It’s like Peter Parker turning into Superman! I know Peter Parker was Spiderman dearies...But I think Peter Parker was more geeky for reference’s sake than Superman as the regular guy and alrite sue me for I don’t remember Superman’s name as the regular guy. I have better things to do on this planet now than remember the name of a superhero when he’s not even one. How duh can that be!

Without his spectacles and the newly found body it was not lost anywhere, just properly emerged in all its glory he is a treat to tired eyes and well even if they aren’t tired, I make sure they do get after my work out in the gym. I don’t know his name or religion or profession or age. But then age no bar caste no bar sex no bar. I mean sex as in the gender...Ache cheez ke taareef karne ke liye bas!

 So while my students had also trickled during summer vacations, I basked in my evening sessions at the gym and hence my crushing began! Vacations over-evening classes on again-so back to gyming in the morning....

And my choti se love story gets nipped in the bud!

P.S. Author subjected to high risks of hyper exaggerations!

(Family reading this-happy-check)

;-)