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You know what I wanna do for New Years Eve?


Sit on a Park Bench, Drink Beer and Talk. And just let my heart out. I just want a close friend to sit next to me, and just talk. Talk about how the year was, how I have changed, how they've changed. The mistakes we made, the things we did right. Just talk. Talk about the dead ends we always reach. About how somethings are never settled. About world politics and global warming. Of the fireworks that will follow. Just speak without hesitation.

I wanna dress up like a cartoon. And then stand on the bench with the bottle and announce to the world, the arrival of some great thing that I will come up in that drunken stupor. I wanna then dance a bit to some random cheap number. Just with that companion, in the loneliness of the park.


I wanna then lie down on the bench. Admire the vastness and beauty of the night sky. Probably listen to "The Escapist" or one of those really soft songs. And just gaze. The joy of nothingness, as is said in Italy. And then the music should end. And there should be perfect silence. And at some point, I'll look at my companion and say nothing. Just try and fake smile at them, and hope that somewhere between these emotions, they guess the numbness and sadness of the past and the empty promise of the future. Allow them to see the chasm of my heart. And in that flick, I will get up. And stop the vulnerability.


And then the fog will be a bitch. And it'll be cold. And it would make sense to go home. So on the support of my friend, I will tread home, which will be close by. I will mumble things I wouldn't want to remember. A bunch of I love yous and Thank yous and Sorrys. To all the people I know. Before all this, I'll make sure my phone is switched off, I don't want to be disturbed!


And then I wanna lie in bed. Under the warmth of a heavy blanket. And then I'd think of love. Of perfect companionship. Of someone I'd like to see by my side when my dreams will come true, as they say in soaps. Of true love. And I'll close my eyes and start imagining the perfect kiss. But I'll stop. Because that would end or seal the magic. And I don't want that.


I wanna sleep with a huge hanger in my face. Smiling ear to ear. With no remorse, no regret, no memory, no burden, no joy, no happiness, no unhappiness. Just a smile of contentment. That for the first time it was enough. And that the world didn't want more. And that I didn't want more.


And I'd want my friend to look down at my smiling face and smile. Trying to figure out what I was thinking. Feeling happy that I was happy. And then they can go sleep wherever they want. Next to me, on a different bed. Thats not in the plan.


And I don't wanna wake up.


And if I do, I hope I have the passion to study. Coz truth be told, I would have exams in 3 days.


It's too much to ask. But I am entitled to a new year wish?


To Friendship. Sometimes all you need is a friend.


Ganesh Mehta : Father and Friend--Alain Clark.
Aakriti Sapra : Brielle--Sky Sailing.
Niharika Charla : Can't You See--The Marshall Tucker Band.
Devna Soni : To Build A Home--Cinematic Orchestra.
Ahana Datta : Hear You Me--Jimmy Eat World.
Apurv Sathe : Ud Jayega--Kumar Gandharva.
Sanya Kalani : Na Jaane Kyun--Chhoti Si Baat.
Garima Singal : American Pie--Don McLean.
Ragini Thakur : Que Sera Sera--Dorris Day.

Blog : Don't Say--St. Lola in the Fields. 

Happy New Year.

The Dagger.

 Eins.


She took out the knife,
Stabbed him continuously;
And she felt power.


Zwei.


But blood did rush fast,
From the bosom to head;
And she regretted.


Drei.


She stood at the edge,
For she could not live any more,
And she took the jump.


Vier.


Power hungry kill,
The money hungry kill too
All of us die soon.


Greensleeves by Vanessa Carlton. It reminds me of Shakespeare and the above of Lady Macbeth.


It's 3/13th and she won't ask. It's just the beginning.

Peace.

To Pimp.

Song Dedication : Aazaadiyan from Udaan

He stared lifelessly at the burning pyre in front of him. It kept burning, the flames rising towards the heavens and he kept staring. It burnt the body of his brother but it couldn't burn the memories of the past.

He stood there crying, hoping all of this was not true. Thinking what if he had lived, what if they could do something more and what if he lived just one more day. But he was gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. He knew that, but sorrow is irrational. All he could do was stand there and think, and that's what he did do.

And finally the mass of wood and flesh was reduced to ashes. And that's what was left for him to stare at now. He saw it coming. It had to happen. God can't cause so much pain to one person. He had to liberate him from that pain. And spread the remaining bits to his loved ones. Disease kills. Depression kills.

He turned around to leave. He did not want to hug anyone. He did not want to talk to anyone. He just wanted his brother back. He looked up at the sky, hoping that there will be an answer. There was none. There are none. There is just one truth. People Always Leave.

He sat in his car and cried more. Moving on is not easy. But the only thing harder is holding on.

We need to be free. Free from bondage of the world. The person you love is there with your soul. Breathing and Living with you. Always. Infinity and Beyond. You just need to trust that and let everything go. It takes time.

I hope He is doing fine.

Aazaad.

There it is.

Dedicated to The Losers.

Song : Hotel California by Eagles.


What do you see? Do you see what you're looking for? Maybe Not. Then who are you waiting for? Just fucking create it. If you don't get what you want, just create it. Not like you can't. Just need to want it bad. And if you've lost strength, then too bad, you gave up too soon. Then you are a loser, and if you're fine by being called that, then cool. Coz then you've got what you've been looking for.

Inspiration : The book my friend bought today.

Zed.

Goodbye.

To This Month and Today.

Song : Death and All His Friends by Coldplay.

And softly he spoke the following words :

Parting is such sweet sorrow,
For we shall meet again, that I am sure.
On planets far away or in realms unknown,
In times to come and generations to see.
We will meet again, Dear Friend.
And until that moment, forget me not,
Cherish our memories and search for me.
And when we will, which I am sure we will,
It'll be magical, yet real,
Almost like your reflection discovering yourself,
And then, we will part again, to meet again,
Because Parting is sweet sorrow.
The least of any pain, for there is hope, nay surety, to meet again.
Adios, my love, I shall see you soon. And then we shall lie under the moonlit sky and plan our escape.
Escape from this world, onto the journey of Self Discovery.

And then He left them, to meet them again.

This is not even original. Shakespeare. Romeo. Brutus. Coldplay. Dido. The Little Prince.

HB.

You.

Dedicated to Secret Tracks of the world, especially the ones I discovered.

Song Dedication : Silence. It speaks so much sometimes.


People love you.

People leave you.

People make you feel special.

People make you feel sad.

People intrigue you.

People irritate you.

People smile at you.

People smirk at you.

People appreciate you.

People abuse you.

People protect you.

People punish you.

People uplift you.

People upset you.



People are like that. They will do that. You can only deal with yourself.

So do that.

Who's She?

And she entered the room, with her beautiful black hair.

Everyone else in the room consequently thought.

A2 : She's so pretty.

D1 : She's so dumb.

G2 : She's my new target.

Z11 : She's plastic.

W28 : She has such nice friends.

S7 : She's so bitchy.

H10 : Her dress is beautiful.

M4 : She's so South Delhi.

K5 : She's so helpful.

T19 : She's a slut.

F4 : She's so sweet to me.

O31 : She's a Lesbian.

R13 : Who's She?

So many tags. Who are you?


Song Dedication : I Don't Want To Be by Gavin DeGraw

This post is dedicated to my Langotia Yaar :)

Der Sinn des Lebens.

To Vasudha Jain, for being with this blog since it's conception :)

Song : Yeh Zindagi Bhi by Shankar Ehsaan Loy

Image Credit : http://www.surrealart.com/images/0016__16x20___Cliffjumpers.jpg

Our lives are marked by routine. One that works in an infinite loop. We are born. We grow. We marry. We breed. We raise children. We earn. And one fine day, We die. It just happens with everyone and anyone. I dare say that all of those things are bad, but blind following, one that is sans questioning and reasoning, is bad. Following something that has been done since ages, simply coz it is that way, would be dumb. Status Quo by the virtue of Status Quo doesn't become right. We should act in ways we believe are right and not coz some assumed authority directed it that way. There are only two code of conducts that ever existed in the world, the earlier version is Religion and the latter is Law. It's funny how in both cases, common people barely have a say.

When I said, we should do things we believe in, I meant that the belief should derived by reason and logic. But then I wonder, is there scope for reason in the world? No matter how much logic we apply to the world, it still remains random and unpredictable. Whatever we do, seems useless then. Are Karma, Destiny and Luck the main factors of our lives? We don't know for sure. As much as I'd love to say that everything happens for a reason, the inability to find one always, just deludes me.

So coming back. What is the Purpose of Life? Why are we born? Are we to lead these mundane straight-jacketed lives? Just take birth, live and then die. I like to believe that there is some common purpose for all of us. Life can't be a torture we have to bear. There has to be more to it. Call me an optimist, but there has to be a goal, a focus, a direction that guides our lives. What that purpose is, I don't know, and any guess would push me into spirituality and religion. I want to keep those away for a while.

So let's say Person X has infinite desires. Unlimited and beyond control. Let's say there exists a Grocery Store in the Universe that'll fulfill all your desires. Person X uses this free grocery store. Do you think he'll be satiated? Do you think the world has the ability to fulfill you? To make you content? Can the possession of material things make you permanently happy, content and at peace? I disagree. They can't. My desires are unlimited and the Grocery Stock is unlimited too. I'll just would want more and more and more. And since it's available, I'll grab more and more and more. And yet not be content. So materiality would never make me happy. Then what will?

What would make us content lies beyond the material world. Something that is outside of all this. Away from all this. And it is only when the desire to fulfill the purpose is satisfied that we will be satisfied. It's a tautology. If the purpose is fulfilled, we will be fulfilled because our purpose is fulfilled.

So our lives are a routine. A routine journey to identify our purpose, find ways to fulfill the same and then eventually fulfill it. We are Humans. It can't be so hard that we suck at it. It's not Rocket Science. It can't be Rocket Science. Else it won't make sense. And the world is random, not nonsensical. It's the Science of the Self. The History of Man. The Accounts of our Virtues and Vices. The Politics of our Mind. And much more. Yet it can't be complex. It'll be basic and simple. Direct but hard to achieve.

I hope everyone finds their Purpose. Sooner or Later, I guess everyone will.

Khwab Jo.

To Ahana Datta, for all your freaky dreams.

Song : Illusion and Dream by Poets of the Fall.

For the millionth time that day, he pressed a random key on his QWERTY phone so that the light would glow and he'd be able to see the time. It was 3:47 AM. He wanted to sleep. It'd been 5 hours since he'd been wracking his brains with T-shaped Accounts and Balance Sheets. The Mind wanted to rest. But then again, he had to study, exams were around.

I'll get a 6 hour sleep and wake up at 10, he thought. He set the Alarm on his fancy phone. Of course, waking up to your own alarm is the last thing people would trust themselves with.

So, he messaged his friend, Ganesh :

"Wake me up at 10, if you're up at 10."

And then he wished his girlfriend Good Night, plugged in his earphones, heard Illusion and Dream and finally slept like a baby.

*

He rubbed his eyes. Opened one of them and saw a tall figure standing.

The figure yelled, "Tell me the relation between peace and freedom! Now!"

"With silence comes peace, with peace comes freedom, with freedom comes silence," he said and went back to sleep.

Sometime later, he woke up again and checked his phone.

"4 New Text Messages"

He checked them. 3 forwards from some random person. Why would people send ridiculous fowards in the morning, he thought.

The last text read :

"Sorry, couldn't wake you up, woke up myself at 10:47. Just saw text."

It was from Gannu. He didn't bother. He didn't really expect Ganesh to wake him up, anyway. He fell asleep again.

Some more time later, he finally woke up, with sleep still hovering under his eyes. He saw that his phone still had unread text messages. He checked them. MBA-Universe and what not.

Just then, his phone vibrated.

"Gannu :) calling"

H : Kaminey kahi ke.

G : Kyun?!

H : Uthaya nahi na tune

G : Utha toh raha hoon. Get up chal, sissy.

H : Uth raha hoon

G : Acha bye, I have to sleep. (sleepy tone)

H : Khud soo le, saale. Bye (funny tone)

He then returned to his Inbox.

He looked for Ganesh's earlier message. He kept scrolling down. He went past the MBA ones, the forwarded ones and then he found the Good Night Ones. He was puzzled. He checked the other folders. No where.

Confused, he locked his phone and got out of his bed to do the morning things. He turned around and then like always, punched a random key on his phone to check the time.

9:47 AM.

It can't be Rocket Science.

Exam time is here. Following is a list of messages. Will keep you updated with more. I like being wished. I like wishing people :)

13 April 03:57 AM

What things look like they oft are not.
What we decide to do with our course of facing challenges, we must be sure of them. Don't let the leaf of doubt sway in the wind of your knowledge. It is important to be certain. It is important to be accommodating. It is important to be awesome.
All the best. Sleep Well :)
PS: It can't be Rocket science. It just can't be.


12 April 2010, 03:28 AM:

It's not Rocket Science. And I'll try my best to nail it. It can't be that hard. It just can't. else it won't ever make sense. Else life would be a constant fight against failure and not aiming towards success. They'll make it hard for us to score and we'll make it harder for them to take away what we've earned. Thanks for your wishes. They mean the world to me. Good Night.

08 April 11:56 PM

Listen the two of you. Mera naam roshan karke aana kal. Logic and Accounts aren't Rocket Science. Give it your best.
Alles Gute! :D

08 April 12:33 AM

Teri Balance Sheet match hi nahi hogi abh. Saale wish toh kar de.

07 April 12:36 AM

Let's hope for the best.
Let's study the hardest.
Let us be the Best version of ourselves.
We can do this. And we will.
We are what we are and we'll be what we'll be :)
Cheers :)

07 April 12:35 AM

That 70% isn't far away. Even if it is, don't make it go away further. Just give this your best shot and be the best version of yourself, and everything will come easy. Just excel it. Yes You Can.

Coz Some Jeans are very tight :)

To those who seek Perfection.

Song dedication : Human by The Killers


They can burn in Hell,
They can die a silent Death,
I will not bother.

They rely on me,
They trust me absolutely,
I do not want it.

Are Humans like this?
Yes, says mind, nay says bosom,
For we are Denser.

Few will realize how,
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,
Is not the Spirit.

So be angry, sad,
But strive for the Ultimate,
That alone is the Truth.


For those who didn't realize. They are all Haikus.

The Parable of the Prodigal Self

To the many people, who think that they are always right, but might just be Blind Sheep.

Song Dedication : Prodigal by OneRepublic and Let it Be by The Beatles.

Ok, I don't know how many of you have heard the story of the Prodigal Son from the Bible, but before I go on with my rant, you must know it. So here goes copy + paste from Wiki.

The story is found in Luke 15:11-32. Jesus tells the story of a man who has two sons. The younger demands his share of his inheritance while his father is still living, and goes off to a distant country where he "waste[s] his substance with riotous living" and eventually has to take work as a swineherd (clearly a low point, since swine are unclean in Judaism). There he comes to his senses and decides to return home and throw himself on his father's mercy, thinking that even if his father does disown him, being one of his servants is still far better than feeding pigs. But when he returns home, his father greets him with open arms and hardly gives him a chance to express his repentance. He kills a fatted calf to celebrate his return. The older brother resents the favored treatment of his faithless brother and complains of the lack of reward for his own faithfulness. But the father responds:

" 'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.'

So it's broadly about a son, who made his own decisions, went away and eventually came back.

Now what I wanna talk about is, the feeling of going and the feeling of coming back.

The feeling of going. Why did the Son go away? Because that's what his own Self wanted. Why do we stray away from the norm? Because we think it's right. Is our own feeling incorrect simply coz it's not widely accepted? No. Or at least it shouldn't be that way. What I mean is, the Son or even us, are never wrong in trying to experiment, in trying to do what maybe perceived to be wrong or doing the wacky, even though we infringe on so many rights of other individuals. Especially coz that's how mistakes are made. And discoveries found. 

Here is where the distinction must be made between my own mistakes and learning from someone else's mistakes. It wouldn't be incorrect to say that some people know the outcome of actions and that we should learn from them. And that's how you learn from the past. But that learning is purely limited, for times change and also concepts of right and wrong. So if the world largely believes that Pop Musik is crap when compared to Rock, one should get into both and then make that decision independently. And that's not the mistake of believing in Pop, but simply a judgment that should be yours and not someone else's. Same with Religion. You think the scriptures are nonsense, maybe once you read them you'll know for sure. Ascribing to a particular belief system, simply coz it's modern and fancy, is the dumbest thing to do. So if I believe that I don't want to have children, maybe I should spend some time with my young nephew to be sure that this is what I want or not. Of course, somethings like rape and murder are intrinsically bad, so don't commit the mistake of Rape, and say I was just checking.

The feeling of return. Once you've done your research, figured out what you believe is right and wrong, there could be two cases. Either your conclusion matches the world's or it doesn't. In Case One, you're pretty much fucked, coz the world was right all along and you were wrong.  But I personally believe that the feeling of knowing by yourself trumps everything else. So if I concluded somehow that Religion was inevitable in the world, for a moral code of conduct is required and one constructed out of rights cannot operate, and that too is the larger belief, then me knowing on my own, through my own study of society will give me a surety of truth. On the other hand, a mere acceptance of the above would be playing Blind Sheep. And the confidence of truth and it's proof is great relief in the head.

Now the receptive aspect of the feeling of return, The Father or The World. If you look closely, The Father accepted The Son. He had no more qualms, no problems and was just so happy that His Son had finally returned. And that precisely is what The World should be like. Open to forgiveness and ready to hold you in it's arms. However that really doesn't happen. The World, or so I have experienced, more often than not, becomes arrogant and virtually says-->"I told you so!" And it's this feeling that creates fear of experimentation. What if I am wrong? What if the World is the rule and I am the exception? And it's this attitude of The World, that kills many hearts, either by the means of killing the passion of experimentation or by "I told you so!" This is what I call The Prodigal Feeling.

What is worse, is when the world follows a certain belief without concrete proof and when you find that concrete proof by challenging the existing, you become the dumbfuck and The Prodigal Son. So if The World believes in God, and you question the existence of God, and thereby in your research find that god truly exists, you are the person The World will call mad.

Another interesting dimension is this. If you have the courage to go against the norm, then the questions and comments from the norm shouldn't bother you and hence fuck the world. But the beauty is this. You can never be independent of the world. Or so is the case with me. The World is my check and balance and which is why Prodigalness fucks me over so much. The World will always tell me what it believes, by proof or not, and in that check, it will continue to question what I do at every step of my own journey. And that constant questioning troubles me so much. But then of course, I am learning to rationalize it, yet at times I am angry at The World/The Father for being hypocritical and questioning without actual proof or self discovery. I am certain about myself, you may also find something similar.  

In Case Two, when proof is contrary to larger belief, it becomes your duty to propagate the right belief, how you do it, is the matter of later post :)

And that's about it. Prodigal Self is interesting. Our Journey is our own. People can tell me The Beatles are awesome, gift me the Musik of The Beatles, but at the end, it's my own choice to like/dislike them. And if I like them, merely coz The World does, then I am Blind Sheep. And I don't want to live with that.

Two Hindi phrases before I end.

1. Bhed-Chal

2. Subah ka bhoola agar shaam ko aaye, toh usse bhoola nahi kehte.  

Idol. Idle. Ideal.

Ok, this one will include random facts about me to the conclusions I make of the world. So bear with the randomness.

To Gannu :)
For being a good Idol for me.
For never being idle and always on the move.
For being the Ideal Chosen Family.

Idol.

I was reading this book the other day, about Adi Shankaracharya, and this is what it had to say which I thought was awesome. It said that idols were important, or some sort of association, with an object or something tangible to be able to understand something intangible or subtle like spirituality or the Higher Power. It went on to say, that if you had a statue of a judge, then that object would constantly remind you of the beliefs of justice and the steps and measures that that particular judge took to achieve justice. The ideas of justice are present in us, however, they are reinforced only when we meet such an object. We all know Gandhi helped us loads during the freedom struggle, but since we weren't there when he did all that, we don't know the kind of aura he had, or his modus operandi, or his awesome-ness, which is why you have all these externalities trying to achieve the same level of greatness he had or at least trying to project that he was that awesome. The same is with Religion. Just coz you offer flowers to an Idol, doesn't mean that God is actually adorned with all of that. Just coz a statue is guarded by police, doesn't mean that the actual person when he existed had security around him all the time. And therefore, all offerings, all charity and all love that one displays towards a God Idol, is simply there to give some tangibility to a Higher Concept. It exists to give some direction. The underlining truth here is that it is very difficult to conceptualize a higher power and be obedient to it, without actually developing a mode of praying or ritual. The other truth here is, that, ultimately the Higher power will be realized sans an idol association, however that level of understanding is not present in everyone and can be only achieved once this Idol Worship phase has been crossed or at least understood. One cannot achieve the Higher Power without having a holistic view. After all, the essence me, is the essence in you.

There is one Idol I carry with me in my bag, Lord Ganesh. Though my dream, is to have my own house, which would have one really large idol of Lord Krishna playing the flute. I think that's awesome.

And My Idol in life, no one ever qualified that much to have so much influence to guide me in my life. I always choose my own course. Of course I always had my favourite people to guide me.


Idle

That's what used to be my facebook chat status always. Now of course it's never that coz I hardly go online. I sometimes wonder, if idle time is in fact the most productive time. Maybe that's perhaps the only time we think the most. Our entire day, like it or not, is mostly a routine and it's only when we are absolutely free, that we can associate with ourselves and possibly think. Imagine, the time when you are in bed waiting for sleep, or possibly after you've just woken up and are in bed, you're absolutely idle. And that's when you think. About the day that has past or is about to start. And that thinking decides so much of your mood. And your mood affects everything.

On the other hand, we all love idle time. In the past 6 months, I can list so many occasions when I just wanted idle time. No debates, no friends, no family, no work, nothing. Just a break. A vacation. And that could just be sitting in my room doing absolutely nothing. Lazying around. And that idle time, I am sure would rejuvenate me. And perhaps bring back the vigour and "junoon." I don't know when I lost it, but I am certain I have. Maybe lost in the mundane-ness of life.

And that's about it.

Ideal

Now this is something that pisses everyone off. Being the best. And somehow parents always want you to be the ideal child. Don't worry, I won't rant about like a thirteen year old. But this is what I wonder about. Do I want to be perfect? Do I want to be the ideal? Can I be the ideal? I don't know about the third one, but I am certain about the first two. It's a No. I don't want to be the best. I like flaws. I guess it gives me the feel that I am normal. That I am like others. However, of course I don't believe in turning my brain off and walking blindly where the world is headed. To believe differently, doesn't make you Ideal. What makes you ideal then? Adherence to norms? A good citizen? What is it? I don't know. It's strange that I don't know what it is, but I am certain I don't want it. You can call me dumb. But even when Harry Potter had the Deathly Hallows, he gave them up. He didn't want the perfectness. It's annoying.

Ideally, I should run a spell check after I write a blog, but trust me it's the worst formality in the world. Almost a necessary evil. I hate it :/

What are my ideals? What should be anyone's ideals? To do good, whatever good be.

Ideal. It's a scary word.


Bas yaar, that's enough. Thanks to Devna and Ganesh for their contribution of ideas in this. I am certain their brains will spot it.

I think this should do the dramatic ending :

Idol.
Idle.
Ideal.

Coz you're beautiful..

At the very outset, Happy Birthday Blog, it's been two years :)

To the one I love :)

Song dedication : Edge of Desire by John Mayer

He walked down those stairs, one by one, hoping with each step that what he'd been looking for in the entire market, would finally be here. Sale time is just annoying. You enter the market and all you see is big posters glaring into your eyes, red, black, blue, with even more huge numbers being forcefully stuffed into your brain. Yes, that's all. Good clothes are always rare. So yes, Jaimie, went down those stairs, hoping he'd find the jacket he had been looking for. Stripes of two bright colours and a zipper with a hood. It was that precise.

He entered the first shop in the basement market. On the right was a long line of thick sweaters of varied colours. On the other side, was another line of T-shirts. And finally somewhere in the corner of the L-shaped shop, was a line of jackets. The corner was away from the owner's eyes. Jaimie wondered, if people shoplifted here. With a simple glimpse of the eye, Jaimie could make out that the piece of his choice wasn't there. But his eye had been caught by something else. A beautiful girl, with jet black her and sharp features was standing there, holding a white sweater. She was sparkling there among the gloom of winter clothing. Her skin was flawless, her eyes so black and wide, her clothing simply awesome. Jaimie lost his heart right there.

The girl turned to the spectator. She moved towards him. Jaimie's heart started thumbing madly. Did she know? What would she say? Would she slap me? Such thoughts circled Jaimie's mind. Once she was just next to him, she said in her melodious voice, "Hi, my brother is just about your size, do you mind trying this on, so I could see if it would fit him?"

Thank God. That's what kept revolving around Jaimie's mind. He gladly took the sweater. He took off his, revealing his black shirt and a bit of his naked tummy. He then inserted his head into the white sweater, struggled to find the head and sleeve openings and once he did, took his body parts out of them. He then adjusted the sweater to his body type, and finally she could see how the sweater would look.

It fitted him perfectly. It was as if, his grandmother had knitted the sweater to his size. And the white colour matched perfectly with the black collar that stuck out. She then said, "It's so pretty, thanks, I think I'll buy it." She ran her hand down Jaimie's chest feeling the wool of the sweater. And then there was a moment of silence. Both of them kept staring at each other, lost in each others eyes. It was love.

He then felt her cheek with his palm. And then she dragged him into the trail room. And then he kissed her. And she kissed him back. And then love was sealed. And then she took out a pen from her purse and wrote him her number on his soft palm. And he kept smiling.

Jaimie then asked, "Can I keep this sweater?"
And she nodded and moved towards the exit of the shop. Jaimie followed her, and saw her making conversation with the shop owner. That sent chills down his spine. What if they had a hidden camera? What if this was the unseen corner and to curb shop lifting, they kept camera surveillance? What if he was screwed?

But he remained confident. He kept walking, however slowly, towards the gate. He overheard them saying,

"Sorry Bhai, there is nothing nice in your shop."
"There is Little Sister, you just have too high standards."

Fuck. That's what now circled in Jaimie's head. They were siblings. He was now dead. The Brother would surely beat him up. But he still remained confident, and went ahead. She had left by now.

"Yes," said Mr. Brother.
"Just this one white sweater I am wearing," Jaimie said.
"500 please. Do you want me to pack your other sweater?"
"Thank you so much," Jaimie said handing him a 500 note.
"Your welcome," Mr Brother said, handing him the bag with his old sweater.

And then it was over. He didn't know. And Jaimie was happy. Not only did he not know, he didn't even see the number on his palm. That reminded him, he had to call her. After all she loved him too. Why else would she make him try the sweater?