Sample copy. Not For Distribution.Our first Latin angel arrived wearing blue salwar kameez with a maroon dupatta, I know the combination was strange but women have fundamental rights

Sample copy. Not For Distribution.

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No, Not Again -

Love.Friendship.Confusion


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Publishing-in-support-of,

EDUCREATION PUBLISHING

RZ 94, Sector - 6, Dwarka, New Delhi - 110075 Shubham Vihar, Mangla, Bilaspur, Chhattisgarh - 495001

Website: www.educreation.in __________________________________________________

© Copyright, 2018, Shubham Tripathi

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, optical, chemical, manual, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent of its writer.

ISBN: 978-93-88719-55-1

Price: ₹ 376.00

The opinions/ contents expressed in this book are solely of the author and do not represent the opinions/ standings/ thoughts of Educreation.

Printed in India


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No, Not Again Love. Friendship. Confusion

Shubham Tripathi

EDUCREATION PUBLISHING (Since 2011)

www.educreation.in


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Prologue

18th March 2015

The coffee with hand in hand was in history now,

that was now scripted in the deleted past. A woman

was lying on the ground restricted to just primitive

movements of muscles that differentiated her to

being alive with another dead object almost with the

same orientation. Rohit’s books were all over the

places, the place had more books than people.

The woman was still in a world not known to us,

thick red eyes and no lateral movements, she hardly

seemed alive. I tried but could not evoke courage to

speak. I wanted to see my brother one last time but

emotions were tough to contain, the inner core

hated me, the only question that loaded me with

guilt was, why did he call me?? Why was he so

desperate to talk to me one last time before meeting

the almighty??

Why Alisha wanted to talk to me but now she hates

me?? Why did she say you can’t be his friend, he

was a nice person?? I was helpless. I had so many

questions to answer, the guilt within me was not

allowing me to face Rohit’s dead body.

His father spotted me, he walked up to me, his lips

were fluttering to speak yet he couldn’t, he just

hugged me hiding his emotions. Perhaps the hug

had such intensity that my eyes couldn’t resist, I


vi

broke into tears. He tapped my back trying to

console him more than me but emotions drove me to

a more obnoxious state. His mother was still

sleeping with her son, I wonder if his body although

dead realized his presence to her. However, when

my mind finally limited my emotions with all it had,

uncle signaled me to follow him. I followed.

While I moved with him, something that caught my

attention and felt strange was the scratches made

on the wall, that were possibly made with the

human hand with some loud intensity. However the

circumstances were not as supportive to get an

answer to such curiosity.

“Take this home, it came yesterday”. All he could

manage to say in his stammering voice. Two

packets from Amazon with a gift-wrap, Rohit and

online shopping were never even close but those

packets………….


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Acknowledgment

I was never scripting this, never wanted to if you

ask me. He was boring, damn boring. Scripting his

life was like describing a broken stone yet here I am

writing the acknowledgment of his biopic. Friends

are mean and so was he. He wanted to go down in

history and I wanted that too but not like this.

I wrote a different story altogether, the one never

published, now probably lost somewhere in my shelf

but this one is different, the one you are holding in

your hand is either destiny or something I would

have never agreed to If I had an option.

Thought of promoting my novel with you but only a

nightmare as it turns out to be that I end up paying

you a tribute. Not happy though yet elated, I know

that contradicts, so as my feelings. I will never be

able to imagine the sphere of life you imagined

never the dimension of thought you evoked but yet I

will portray the life you lived, the love you

fraternized at least will try to if not exactly.

Whoever the hell I am today, it’s just because you

made me who I am. From a mediocre student to

now being at least respectable to every one other

than you, is just your priceless effort that I wonder I

could ever repay, helpless though yet I ponder at

times. I knew you would be in IIT Bombay by the

time I will finish my novel. I even made my


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promotional schedule but you had different plans,

plans not known by anyone other than the Almighty

himself. Rohit was my friend-cum-brother who very,

unfortunately, died on 18th March 2015 and

reasons are due to be known some day.

Rohit, I know you would be proud to know that

every bit of penny this book is gonna make is going

to be shared with your family. In the following story

to follow I introduce myself as Rohit. All that’s

being written in the upcoming pages depicts the real

story of half an IITian, give him that tag, he badly

wanted it. I am the narrator of the story, so I am

basically Rohit who is telling you the story and I

will sneak into my original identity only when Rohit

departs in the following story.


Shubham Tripathi

1

The crazy crush

Life isn’t gloomy all the time but what about people

who find ways to make it that way. I certainly

belonged to that category. Electricity in Jharkhand

was like porn in a temple, never even close.

Power cut in India helps you admire the beauty the

country has. It’s not just limited to tradition and

nature but women are also an integral part of it.

Sitting under a banyan tree is not a bad option

when the sun comes out all guns blazing and

exhales at 40+ knots. Exactly the state we were in. I

was sitting in the shade on the rocky curvature

facing the road and Manu adjusted his bum to my

right with his flowing legs on full swing to and fro.

We were having probably the time of our lives even

at that burning temperature busy doing something

we were not supposed to do at such a tender age.

You guessed it sooner than expected but spot on!!

We were rating girls. Hardly a soul-bearing

testosterone doesn't do that, right??

Our first Latin angel arrived wearing blue salwar

kameez with a maroon dupatta, I know the

combination was strange but women have

fundamental rights to dress the way they want but

not so with men. It’s rather a nice way of saying

that men are always short of clothes.

"How much??" Manu said glaring like hell.

"Eight on ten.” I responded glaring even harder.


No, Not Again

2

"Two on ten, she is not eligible for my eight.'' Manu

said and of course, the reason was his over

assessment of himself, he had a huge

misunderstanding of rating himself only after

Salman Khan in terms of looks and grandeur while

the entire world believed vice versa including me.

I wonder if men start to find a profession in rating

women than nobody at least in India will remain

jobless. Hold on, if being jobless makes men rate

women or rating women all day makes them

jobless??

The second one was veiled in a black and blue

printed denim along with white T-shirt quoted "I

love my life".

“Is that jeans??” I said with a pathetic expression.

I guess two or more people were required to apply

force and patience in order to get that out of her

body and redress her for the next time, did she paint

her legs like that?? I thought.

Stupid!! Right?? But that's the case with girls you

will always find their clothes a size less than what

they should eventually wear probably to prove it to

themselves that they have not gained any weight

lately.

“Nine on ten.” Manu shouted with a lot of

adjectives and abuses, abuses were indeed

adjectives too. Men have a different method of

completing everything, an abuse is not always an

abuse rather its meaning is pretty much dependent

on the emotion it is said with. Come on, I know you

understand.


Shubham Tripathi

3

“What rubbish? Nine?? The last one was better,

why don't you rate them by their face??” Right!! I

was a man of substance, pure and holly. I was

saying that but I sounded hollow.

“I know!! Don’t tell me!! I have seen you rate them

by their face. For your kind information, we don’t

call it face, the face contains eyes and nose.” He

was right, I only saw the face when I was satisfied.

“You just rate them by U and D.” Manu wasn’t an

ordinary human being, whenever someone caught a

flaw in him, he was ready to give that person a taste

of his own medicine.

In case you don't know what's U and D then it's the

first chapter of physics in class 11th, 'Units and

dimensions'.

“Five on ten.” I wanted to rate her marginally more

but with the kind of mahatma dialogues I made, it

was tough. She was not dying to get my rating

either.

“You went to Allahabad??”Manu asked waiting.

The commotion of his legs was exceptionally

irritating.

“Ha, I forgot to tell you!!”I said folding my legs

and straightening my back for the proper vision of

our next she.

”What??”.

He was a great admirer of art. As I said that, he

straight away knew that I was in love again and that


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Sample copy. Not For Distribution.Our first Latin angel arrived wearing blue salwar kameez with a maroon dupatta, I know the combination was strange but women have fundamental rights